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Alessandra flinched at the possessive way he stressed his wife. Was he jealous she’d spent the day with Noah? She decided to let it go.
She was elated by the romantic ambiance he’d created. Soft jazz played through the speakers, and a candelabra was placed on the table already set for two.
“I’m going to change into something a little more comfortable.”
Alessandra slipped off to her bedroom and changed into the cocktail dress she’d purchased that afternoon. She turned in the mirror, loving how the fabric shimmered under the lights and hugged her curves, which was bound to pull appreciation from Drake.
When she stepped into the dining room, the aromatic smell of garlic greeted her. A bountiful plate of seafood linguine was in her spot, along with a side salad and a breadstick. Drake pulled out her chair as a chivalrous gesture. He whispered in her ear as he pushed her in.
“You are breathtaking. I feel like a fool for not taking you out tonight.”
She shook her head. “It’s the thought that counts, Drake. This is more than enough.”
They discussed their respective days over entrées.
“No matter the verdict, Marcello will be all right, Alessandra. He’s a grown man. I feel like talking about him always upsets you. I’m sorry, but I must uphold the law. If you let me, I can be here for you in the private moments.”
Alessandra almost choked on her wine. Drake’s sincerity stirred her anxiety, and she blurted, “You need to divorce me!”
Drake appeared like he’d been slapped. She braced herself for the fight that would ensue.
“Ma che cazzo, bella! What the fuck? We can’t have one pleasant conversation without you bringing up a fucking divorce. I don’t know what else to do to prove that I’m in this marriage.”
Alessandra’s chin wobbled, “I’m sorry, Drake. You need to sign the papers. Please, we can’t live this charade any longer.”
“Give me one damn honest reason.”
When she opened her mouth, she gaped like a fish. Words failed her when waves of hurt and anger rolled off Drake. She’d already prolonged this conversation, and there was no time left for delay. The plates rattled as Drake pounded on the table, demanding her attention.
“Answer me, damn it!” he roared.
“My father named Luca the heir to the Russo family even if Marcello is acquitted. They want me to marry Luca to strengthen his claim as head of the family. He said he'll kill you if you don’t sign the papers. I don’t want you to get hurt, Drake. I’m sorry, there is no other choice.”
“When?”
“The other day in court. He said you had one week to sign the papers, or he’d make me a widow.”
“What the fuck is the matter with you? Why would you wait so long to tell me? How can I protect you if you won’t let me, Alessandra?”
“I’m sorry, Drake. I really am. I asked you multiple times to sign the papers.”
“That excuse doesn’t hold water, Alessandra. You should’ve told me! Fuck—”
“Please forgive me.” Tears flooded her face.
Drake pushed back from the table and left her sitting there flabbergasted. She knew all their progress didn’t matter anymore in that moment of broken trust.
Not being able to sit still and wait any longer, Alessandra began to clear the table. Tendrils of smoke swirled from the extinguished candles when Drake stalked toward her and threw the papers at her feet.
“There… signed… Get the fuck out of my home!”
“What?” she gasped.
“You wanted them signed so badly. It’s the last thing I’ll ever do for you.”
Alessandra bent to the floor, humiliated, and picked them up. She quickly leafed through and saw every line initialed and his scrawled signature on the last page. Even though it was an impossible situation, some of her hoped Drake would fight for her. It was a fool’s dream, and she was heartbroken.
“Please, Drake, you must know that this isn’t what I really want. If there was another way, I’d want to stay married. You must know by now that I care for you, and I’m fairly certain you feel the same.”
