Oh No, My Mafia Husband Is About to Lose Control Chapter 04

Oh No, My Mafia Husband Is About to Lose Control Chapter 04

I woke up to my phone ringing.

When I checked the time, it was already afternoon.

The second I picked up, the voice on the other end blared, “Bella! Big bro’s back in New York. Get out here, we’re getting food!”

I quietly held the phone a little farther from my ear.

Lucas Grant. My oldest friend, since we were kids.

He’d been overseas the last few years. We hadn’t seen each other in a long time.

I was a little surprised. “What are you doing back?”

Lucas’s voice was as careless as ever. “Came back just to see you. Aren’t you flattered?”

I rolled my eyes.

This guy never grew up.

By the time I got ready and showed up at the meeting spot, it was already dark.

I scowled, slapping at my neck. “Don’t you know mosquitoes love me? Why on earth did we have to do

open-air barbecue?”

Lucas pressed his palms together, grinning shamelessly. “Sorry, princess. I forgot. I’ll do better next time.”

He held out a beef skewer like a peace offering. “Heard this place is the spot. Try it?”

New York summer nights were unbearable.

I was already covered in mosquito bites and had zero appetite.

Two bites in, I put it down. “It’s not even good.”

Lucas tsked and pointed at the parking spot below. “You have no taste. People who drive Bugattis come

here.”

I followed his finger and looked down.

The car was already pulling away. All I caught was a flash of black.

For some reason, my mind went to Leon.

He drove a Bugatti, too.

Such a shame I’d never gotten to talk him into a scene in the car.

Lucas snapped his fingers in front of my face. “Hey. Why are you so out of it today? Your husband finally pick up a side piece?”

I choked. “Don’t be disgusting. We’re great. What did you really want me here for?”

I knew him. He didn’t show up without a reason.

Sure enough, he grinned and held out his hand. “Loan me money to start a business.”

My eyes went wide. “Don’t tell me your family went bankrupt too?”

“Don’t curse me,” he shot back. “I just want to prove to a certain person that I’m not just some rich kid who

eats and parties.”

I sighed.

After we bickered for a while, I lent him the money anyway.

Lucas was outrageously stingy.

But after my family fell apart, he’d handed over every dollar he had to help me pay off the debt.

I never forgot that.

I’d just turned down his offer to drive me home when my phone rang again.

The caller ID surprised me.

It was the housekeeper who came to clean once a week.

She said Leon was very drunk and she didn’t know what to do.

I drove back to the estate at once. But something was off.

Today wasn’t her cleaning day.

The second I walked in, I caught it: a woman’s perfume,

Jasmine.

Strange. Cold.

So he really had brought Elena home.

A single dim floor lamp was on in the living room.

Light spilled, soft and unsteady, across Leon’s face.

He was leaning into the couch, his usual pine scent buried under alcohol.

The corners of his eyes were faintly red from the drink.

Two of his shirt buttons were undone.

His collarbone showed, just barely.

The exact spot I always liked to bite.

I stood there a long time, just looking at him.

A wave of sadness hit me out of nowhere.

This impossibly broken, impossibly perfect husband-he wouldn’t be mine for much longer. [Elena’s leaving the male lead for the European branch-that’s why he’s drinking himself stupid.] [It’s fine. They’re about to break through. Once Elena admits how she feels, she’ll stay for him.] [Why is the ex-wife staring at the male lead like that?? Don’t tell me she’s still trying to jump him.]

[Don’t touch the male lead. He’s Elena’s.]

I rolled my eyes.

I’m still his wife. Why can’t I touch him?

You don’t want me to touch him? Watch me.

So I slapped him across the face.

Leon’s brows pulled together. He cracked his eyes open.

The second they met mine-still hazy with alcohol-my stomach dropped.

I yanked my hand back. Voice gone dry. “You’ll catch a cold sleeping out here. Let me get you some water.”

And I bolted.

Behind me, I heard Leon’s voice, hoarse and low.

Slumped into the couch, voice almost soft enough to sound like he was begging. “I want tea.”

I froze mid-step.

Tea was our unspoken signal.

If I made him tea, he’d carry me to bed. Press me into him until there was no space between us.

I’d put it down in front of him. He’d know what to do.

But I pretended I hadn’t heard.

I poured him a glass of water instead.

He took it, but didn’t drink.

His eyes were dark, oddly hollow.

He asked, softly, “Did you have fun the past few days?”

I bit the inside of my lip and looked down. “Yes.”

He laughed once, very lightly.

Like something inside him had snapped. Quiet. Small.

He looked down at the glass. His voice was so faint I almost missed it. “That’s good.”