Unraveling Him | A mafia Story

Bonus Chapter II

"This wasn't the life I planned,
but God,
it's the one I'd choose
a thousand times over."

Natalie's POV

I sank deeper into the leather seat, letting the wind comb through my hair while the music drummed against the speakers. For the first time in forever, I wasn't listening for baby cries or Nikolas muttering about work or cursing Ronald. I was just...alone. Free. God, I'd forgotten what that felt like.

Don't get me wrong, I adore my husband and our ridiculously perfect little boy. But solitude? Time that belonged to no one but me? That had become a myth, just like eight hours of uninterrupted sleep or pants that still buttoned the way they used to. Oh, how I'd missed it all.

My fingers caressed the leather steering wheel as I pressed harder on the gas, savoring the roar of Nikolas's car pulling me forward. My sensible, safe mom-car could never dream of this. Nikolas, of course, got to play with this beast whenever he wanted, no thought spared for baby seats or diaper bags. Men just have it easy, don't they?

Sarah, my friend, god bless her heart, agreed to babysit Nathan for a few hours so I could run errands. And by errands, I meant emergency self-rescue, like laundry, buying new clothes, and getting my hair done, as fast as humanly possible. I caught a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror and winced at the roots peeking through. My hair had only been perfect because I used to baby it religiously, but lately? Motherhood had other priorities.

My frown deepened as I gazed down at my chipped nails. I needed those done, too.

God, I really needed to take care of myself; it was a life-or-death situation now.

I pulled into the driveway of our house, the tires squealing with a protest so sweet it nearly made me high. Ah, to speed up and be reckless. I'd forgotten how addictive they were. Too bad adulthood and motherhood frown on both.

I cut the engine and slumped back, running through my mental to-do list. First order of business was to change my clothes. Nathan had given me a goodbye gift by spitting up milk all over my shirt just before I handed him to Sarah. My baby was his father's son, no doubt, vengeance encoded straight into his DNA, punishing me for daring to leave him.

A pout tugged at my lips. Was it normal that I already missed him? Thirty minutes, and my arms felt painfully empty.

Sighing, I dropped my forehead onto the wheel. Cancel the hair appointment, go pick up Nathan, crawl into bed with him, and call it a day. That was starting to sound like the dream. But no, I had to power through. Self-care, Natalie. Power through.

I straightened, gave myself a little shake, and reached for my bag. Of course, my half-hearted swipe toppled it, spilling half its contents onto the car's floor.

"Perfect," I muttered, bending down to collect my scattered life.

My hand froze mid-grab when my fingers brushed over something that definitely wasn't inside my bag, nor did it belong to me. I tugged it out from under the seat and...blinked.

What the fuck—

It was a...pair of panties.

Red. Silky. Panties.

Not mine, for sure.

My heart did a dramatic thump, skipping two or ten beats in the span of one millisecond. Rational brain knew there had to be an explanation. Irrational, sleep-deprived brain was already picturing myself killing my husband and burying him in the backyard. I had even picked up which shovel to use.