The Mafia Boss's Unwanted Wife

Chapter 12

While he walked towards his office, something on the floor caught his eye. He stopped in his tracks and turned around to see his wife's wedding gown lying on the cold marble floor. He walked closer then bent down in front of the delicate, stained dress and picked it up. He rubbed the silky, lacy material between his fingers and sighed. He caught the reflection of light from his wedding band and for a moment, he just stared at it. He was married now and he honestly couldn't believe it; he'd married Katrina.

 He needed to find out what his wife wanted to do with her wedding dress. Should he send it to the cleaners just in case she still wanted it? He knew that women were very sentimental over things like this. He was simply going to throw his tux away, there were plenty others out there to buy.

 His eyebrows furrowed and his mouth set in a thin line. Would he be able to make Katrina happy? It seemed just as things were going good between them, something or someone had to come in and disrupt things. He felt himself getting a headache. He threw the dress over his shoulders and massaged his temples while walking towards his office. He married the woman carrying his child, to find out the next day that his ex-girlfriend had lost their baby; he hadn't even known she was pregnant. He still needed to find the person trying to kill his wife as well as who had kidnapped her in the first place.

 With every step he took he felt his head beating, was he having a migraine? He kept his head down and followed the movement of his feet; he didn't have to look up to know where he was going. The coldness of the marble floor seeped into his feet and all the way up to his pounding head; he didn't have time for fucking games today. He already had so much that required his attention, and he had questions he wanted answered; Veronica was going to feel his wrath today. Once he saw the brown wood of his office door, he opened the door and walked in to his spacious, plain, cold office. It was beyond cold, unlike his father, he didn't have pictures grace his grand desk. That just seemed too personal to him.

 He had lived in this house for the past eight years and he hadn't put anything of himself into it; he had hired someone to come in and decorate it. The only thing he made his was his bedroom because that's where he lay his head at night. He sighed to himself, he just knew that Katrina was going to come in and turn his life upside down. He'd come home from a business trip to see his desk decorated with pictures and baby toys lying around on the floor. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, he could see her waddling around the house with her growing belly or her chasing after their child with a big smile on her face.

 Thinking of Katrina made his headache calm down and he was finally able to make his way to his walk-in closet; he needed to be dressed in more than boxers, he didn't want Katrina having a heart attack. He walked into the closet and put her dress down on the chair, with his wife heavy on his mind. He wanted to get this Veronica business over with; he didn't need Katrina worrying about this and getting herself all worked up. He cared about her and her health, his heart couldn't afford for this baby to pass too; it just couldn't. He pulled on his black slacks, black socks, and went in search of his black Gucci shoes. He grabbed a black and white polo shirt and pulled it over his head, then ran his hands through his hair; how he wished he were still in bed with his wife right now.

 He walked over to his speaker box and paged the butler.

 "Good morning Mr. Riccardi what can I do for you sir? He heard Charles say in his aging voice. Charles had been his personal butler ever since he could walk and talk, and when he decided to move out of his parents' house Charles followed suit. Charles insisted that he come because no one and he meant no one would be able to take his place. Charles was loyal to him and that's what he liked the most.

"Buongiorno Charles, can you please bring me a glass of water and have breakfast delivered to my wife as soon as she wakes up."

There was a knock on the door, "Come in" Alonzo said as he walked out of his closet and towards his desk. Xavier, Charles’s young son walked in with trembling fingers, making the tray rattle. Alonzo took a deep breath and beckoned the boy forward. It wasn't a bad thing to instill fear in people, but it bothered him when those he held close to his heart feared him. He had told Xavier time and time again not to be afraid of him. People afraid of something or someone always had something to hide. As long as he wasn't hiding something, or didn't cross him, there was no reason for him to be afraid.