Page 219 of Cara & Gian: The Guzzi Duet

“Positive. Say hello to your husband for me. I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“I will. Thank you, sir.”

Gian faced the sloppy drunks in his sitting room once more. “Elena, have your friends leave, or join me in the kitchen. Now.”

“Gian!”

Elena’s mortified shriek grinded on every single nerve that Gian had left. He managed to ignore it, but it was goddamn hard. Not bothering to wait on his wife’s decision, Gian headed for the kitchen, listening to the voices he was leaving behind.

“My, he’s certainly in a mood, isn’t he?” one of the women asked.

“Oh, he’s always in a damn mood,” Elena muttered. “Don’t mind him. He’ll probably head upstairs for the rest of the day. We won’t even know he’s here.”

“We never see him out with you, Elena.”

“It’s better that you don’t, trust me.”

Gian rolled his eyes upward, feeling the tension headache beginning to build in his temples. Fuck no, he would not be staying. Even if that meant coming back to find the entire mansion trashed from Elena’s nonsense.

“What in the hell do you want?” Elena hissed at his back.

Gian had heard her enter the kitchen behind him, but he focused on his task of getting a glass of water. That way, he could resist the urge to put his hands around her throat and choke the fucking life out of her.

“No calls came in from you last night,” Gian noted. “You weren’t concerned when I didn’t make it home?”

He looked back at her, noting her glazed eyes and messier than normal appearance. Drinking before supper could do that to a person.

Elena shrugged. “You come and go, Gian. This isn’t the first weekend, recently, where you’ve stayed away until we have to be seen at church. What does it matter? You told me to fuck off, so I have. Isn’t that what you want, for me to leave you alone?”

Yes, but he needed to believe she was actually doing that, too.

“And where were you, anyway?” Elena asked.

Gian stiffened a bit, but chose to answer partly honestly. “With Cara.”

He decided not to mention the accident, or the hospital. His best defense against Elena’s games—or any that she might be playing—were to let her set a trap, and then subsequently fall into it with her usual lies and manipulations.

Elena sighed. “You don’t have to just … throw that in my face, you know.”

“I didn’t mean for it to sound that way.”

“Well, it does. And that’s kind of awful of you. I’m aware you have a mistress, and that she’s pregnant with your child, you don’t need to add onto it by giving me a play-by-play of your activities with her. It’s embarrassing enough.”

“You asked where I was, and I told you.”

“Yes, for no reason.”

“Actually, there was one. Cara was involved in a hit and run last night. It seemed, from onlookers, that it was very intentional. A man of mine was killed, too.”

“So?” Elena asked.

She didn’t ask about the baby, or Cara, or anything else. She didn’t make one of her haughty proclamations about his whore, as she so affectionately called Cara whenever she got the chance and wanted to hurt Gian. Nothing. Simply a so, as though it had no affect or bearing on her life, because it didn’t. And Elena cared for nothing that didn’t involve her in some way.

That was the only reason why Gian chose to believe—at least, for now—that his wife was probably not behind organizing the hit and run. However, he put Elena on a very short leash where giving her any sort of trust was concerned.

“I’m going to head out again,” Gian said, “I may or may not make it to church on Sunday, it depends.”

“If you don’t come here before church, then can I not go, too?”