The Don's Wife

44 | Reunion

Outside the library door, I exhaled one long breath to lower the gauge of my temper before facing the pathetic excuse of a being on the other side, though quickly learned that such effort was futile when I entered to a smoke-filled room, along with a stench that I personally detest. The reek of tobacco. And the way he just settled there comfortably on the sofa, blowing away toxic fumes with that haughty air of his made the already revolting stench ten times more foul.

It's not that I'm anti smokers. Even though I dislike the smell I tolerate, since most people around me do smoke, including father and my men. I had also tried once, think it's trash, smells like one, tastes like one, not worth corroding my health over, so I simply put it down and never pick it back up til this day.

What I do mind is the place where the smoking happened. Namely my house, this room. Where Rosie and I have our dances, where she likes to spend time in reading, listening to music as she relaxes, might as well call it our sacred chamber. Tsk, Mary should've ushered him to a different room.

"Before we talk I'd like you to put your cigarette out." I demanded in a biting tone. "You may perhaps enjoy blackening your lungs, but I prefer to keep mine clean."

Proving how fat of a prick he actually fucking is, he purposely took a deep drag then puffed the thick, stale cloud of miasma into my direction. 

Fucking dick!

"Aren't you a fun chap? Bet you host fine parties." He said, sardonically.

"My wife, uses this room daily." The mention of her sister magically refrained him from taking another drag. "In fact, it's one of her favorite spots to be. I won't have it polluted with such cheap smell. So either put that thing out, or get the fuck out of my house."

After a brief moment of silently murdering each other with our glare, the bastard finally yielded. He pulled out his pocket ashtray then stubbed out his cigarette in it.

2-0 motherfucker.

*knock–knock.*

The knocking on the door suddenly caught our attention. Before I could ask who or gave permission to enter, it opened, revealing Rosie with a tea tray in hand.

"Pardon my interruption. Please don't be alarmed, I'm only here to drop off some refreshments. I'll be taking my leave right after." Plastering her default smile, she transferred the tea set and a plate of assorted cookies onto the table.

I recognized that smile. It's the very smile my cunning little wife puts on whenever she's plotting something.

What is she up to this time?

"You shouldn't have bother, but thank you." I said to Rosie.

"Yes, thank you, Rose." Lucas added.

"You're welcome." Rosie nodded. "Now then, before I leave, kindly hand in all your weapons onto this tray please." She held out the same tray she used to carry the refreshments with towards us, retaining her dazzling, yet shady smile.

Ah, there it is.

"Do you doubt me so?" I scoffed.

"Sorry to say, but in this particular case yes. Yes I do. Both of you." She glanced over to her brother as well.

I should be offended, but was more amused. That's just how it is now, everything she does is faultless in these eyes. For all I know, she could slap me and I'd be enjoying it.