The Don and the Wife

(8) rubies rubies rubies ♡

Chapter 8 - rubies rubies rubies ♡

With nothing to truly occupy my time in my new home, I have taken to sleeping at almost every opportunity and for the most part, the rest of the familia leave me alone. So when Francesca, the head of the household staff, knocks on my door telling me it's time to get up, I can't resist glaring at her like she just told me to clean every surface of this godforsaken house.

Francesca is an elderly woman who helped Adriana when she ran the household. Her grey hair, which was once a dark brown, is always pulled back into a harsh bun which looks like it is one hair grip away from ripping her hair out at the temples. The one benefit to her strict hairstyle is it makes her brown eyes stand out, they always shine like her thoughts are deeper than anyone else can ever comprehend.

"Don't glare at me like that, young lady," she snipes as she flings open the curtains carelessly, "you have business to attend to."

Groaning, I fall back into the comfort of my bright blue duvet, "What business could possibly have any relation to me?"

She pinches my toe which sticks out the end of my sheets as she passes the bed and I yelp in response.

"A member of the familia has died, Lyra."

Instantly, I sit up as the gravity of what she stated sinks in, swallowing, I meet her solemn gaze, "Who was it?"

She shakes her head and moves towards the closet to pick out something black for me to wear.

Realising she won't answer my question, I try another instead, "Where is the necklace, Francesca?"

Her faint voice shouts from the closet that it is with the Don and I groan, barely resisting the urge to melt back into the bed at the prospect of speaking to my husband.

My focus is immediately stolen, however, when Francesca comes out of the closet carrying an all black, long sleeved turtleneck that looks like it would swallow me whole. On another hanger, she has a knee length dress which I can only assume was made to fit a horse because it could do absolutely nothing for anyones figure.

I eye the clothes with distaste and know that I am most definitely going to pick out something else to wear. Part of my role as Cavallaro's wife means that when a family member dies for the family (not of natural causes), I am required to wear all black for a week and a golden necklace which has the Donatelli family crest on it. The crest is shaped out of rubies as a symbol of respect for blood lost.

Picking through my closet after Francesca is gone, I decide on a black corset top and black slacks with a matching blazer. I opt for simple black heels and stare at myself in the mirror silently hating the stupid tradition. It's easy enough for Cavallaro who always wears black, only occasionally spicing things up with the odd white shirt. For the women, we have to ensure we look presentable, but not like we have tried too hard. Sexy but not too revealing. It is a fine line and only a few weeks into marriage and I am already exhausted by the tediousness of it all.

Smoothing my hand over the front of the outfit, I shrug and decide that I like it so the rest of the world will just have to deal. I take my time walking to Cavallaro's office, I haven't spoken to him since our last encounter which ended with me on the floor, horny and angry and him storming off...also horny and angry.

Fucks sake.

My internal conflict is swiftly forgotten, however, when I turn the corner and spot a disheveled Esme coming out of his office.

Quickly, I slip back round the corner so I can peak around and get confirmation of what I already know. Cavallaro is having sex with one of the girls from the club.