The Odd Wife

The Odd Wife

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing48m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Jul 12, 2020
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Fiction
Romance
I had no intention of entering a relationship, nor do I want to get married. Which is why I am wondering how did I end up sitting in front of a strange English woman, drinking afternoon tea at the back garden of a hotel in Mayfair, going through this arrange 'marriage' meeting. Sandro Balestreri never intended to get married. Besides, finding the right woman was like a needle in a haystack. To him, most women were hell to the soul and are unhealthy distractions. Until he met the odd Tilly McLeod who was not his cup of tea. To him, she looked boring and dry, nor was she able to awaken anything inside him. Which was good in a way as she would not be a distraction. However, he will soon learn that despite his wife being odd, she was not what he thought him to be. He never would've thought that the boring ol' Tilly had psychopathic tendencies...
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𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐚 I downed a shot of tequila, allowing the burning liquid to slide down my throat and settle in my stomach. I deserved to have some fun without boundaries. I poured a second glass and it disappeared as quickly as the first. Then came the third, fourth and fifth. Still I wasn't satisfied. My landlady was a bitch, I was fired and my boyfriend cheated on me. My nerves were shot to hell! My eyes lazily scanned the nightclub as I consecutively downed my sixth shot for the evening. Life's a bitch. 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐨 𝐆𝐮𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐫𝐨 I sat in the VIP section of the club, a glass of vodka in my hand as I watched the woman several yards away drowning herself in tequila. My lips curled in amusement. The red dress she wore showed a generous amount of cleavage, her ass was ripe and full, begging to be groped. She looked to be eighteen. I wondered what a pretty thing like her was doing in a place like this, drinking like there was no tomorrow. Not that it was any of my business. Women came, got laid and wasted in this nightclub every night. Nothing special to see here. "Muori figlio di puttana." I pulled the trigger on my gun and shot the Mexican in the head after he was caught stealing coke from my warehouse. Blood splattered everywhere, staining the walls and my designer suit. I tucked my gun back in my pocket and left the ally. "He killed a guy!" I shrieked as I turned to run away from there as fast as possible. Just as I was about to run back inside, a large hand clamped around my neck and I was pressed up against a rock solid chest. My jaw was caressed by - a gun!? "Going somewhere piccola?" a deep voice whispered in my ear. "Let me go, you sick twisted bastard!" I growled. "Feisty and a foul mouth. I like it," he chuckled. "You killed someone! I'm calling the cops!" I shouted. "Princess I own the cops," he said, stroking my face, "and now I own you. Say goodbye to your ol

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