Chapter 35

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Word count: 3084

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Gonzalo's POV

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Imagine my wife, my own damn wife, being recorded live while dancing in a club. And she was even drunk!

A whole Rosa Matteo Romano Rodriguez, being recorded while swaying her hips and getting so many idiots watching her and drooling over her.

It was Romeo that sent me the link of the article just now and to say my blood was currently boiling, would be an understatement.

Then I went online and saw that someone already posted a video of it to go along with the article!

I dialed Jim's number immediately. I had no idea why I was surrounded by so many idiots and nincompoops!

"Boss." He stated immediately he picked my call.

"Where is my wife?" I asked calmly.

"She's right in front of me sir."

"Doing what?"

"Dancing sir."

"And being recorded, right?"

"No-" he sounded distracted and I gritted my teeth.

"Keep shut! Who told you to allow her take alcohol? For fucks sake she's just recovering from the accident. What's your usefulness when I have to reprimand you and then do the damn job right? Should I now sign up as her bodyguard and start following her around, huh? Is that it?"

"I-I'm sorry sir. I tried to advise her not to take alcohol but she ignored me boss."

"Let me guess, she also told you to shave off your nuts and trim your sacks so you wouldn't grow some balls and stop idiots from taking her pictures or recording videos of her? Get down to it immediately!" I ordered and ended the call, adjusting my tie.

I hoped Rosa wouldn't be the end of me. I seriously prayed she wouldn't!

She was the one who loved ranting about how she wasn't ready to ever get her name publicized because she cherished her privacy, believing that she would no longer have her own privacy and that the public would be all up in her business whenever she eventually becomes popular.

And in the next second, she found her way to a high end club, got drunk and started shaking those hips.

She had never even danced for me, her own man like that yet those idiots got to see her doing those dance moves.

Those sexy dance moves. Fuck.

But how did the person that took the pictures know she was my wife? Several pictures had been taken from where we attended meetings and conferences together but she was only ever identified as my personal assistant.

Now the word was out.

It meant that she was being followed by someone and the person wasn't just a simple person. Even the workers in our household just got to know we'd gotten married the day I was bringing her home from the hospital and the reason was that so whenever I behaved in some ways with her or whenever they noticed the ring on her finger, they wouldn't curiously whisper around the house.

Also, it hadn't been up to two hours since she went out. Then how had she been easily spotted in a private club, to the extent that an article had already been published online at this time of the night?

I dialed a number, deciding to try and calm myself down.

"Good evening Mr Romano." A deep, aged voice greeted from the other end. But if anything, his words made my anger flare up.

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