Page 56 of The Sicilian Billionaire's Neglected Wife
“Companies endorsing Cannizzaro have been giving hints that they’d ‘welcome conversations’ with any available champion-caliber drivers...”
“How long can even friendship protect a three-hundred-million-euro investment?”
The headlines alone break my heart, but the comments that go along with them are what breaks my heart...because photos of him and Myca have suddenly resurfaced (leaked?), and now everyone thinks he’s out on a secret honeymoon after rekindling his romance with his ex. Everyone thinks they look good together, and that Myca is a much better wife for him because she has all the correct boxes ticked.
I wish I could say I disagree, but...I can’t. She comes from the same world that he does. She was born with wealth and power, while I was born to serve people like them. I know I should stop reading all these comments, stop torturing myself by staring at their photos and mentally listing all the things she’s his pefect fit. I know this isnotwhat God’s asking me to do while He wants me to wait.
I know all of these things, but it’s just so, so hard to tune it all out.
Please, God.
Please.
Help me.
And one day, He finally answers, with Miguel asking me to meet Toby Knowles, a lawyer who specializes in legal separation for married couples.
****
IT’S MY THIRD TIMEto meet with Toby, and I’m not quite sure what to think when this time, we end up meeting at Flavier’s. Even though I still don’t know him pretty well, he’s too detail-orientednotto realize that this is the same restaurant that Aivan and I had our first date. Or at least that’s how I used to think of it. But after everything that’s happened...
I really need Your help, God.
Because with each day that passes, I can feel the broken pieces of my heart hardening, and I’m scared that they’d turn completely brittle and irreparable over time.
Flavier’s has only gotten more popular over the years, with tourists mixing with locals, plus the usual afternoon crowd of old men playing cards and gossiping about everyone’s business. I chose a corner table, hoping to be invisible, but I can feel curious glances. Everyone knows who I am, and worse, everyone also seems to know who Toby is.
“SignoraCannizaro, thank you for meeting with me.”
Toby isnothow I pictured a lawyer forfamigliewould look like. I did imagine him to be dignified, and that touch of silver hair certainly does the trick. But other than that? His aura is more reassuring than intimidating, his looks more...introspective than smoldering. I did wonder how he ended up working with a man like my father-in-law, and the first time we met, Toby had immediately picked up on my curiosity.
“It is because we are the same, signora,”he had explained with a slight smile.
That had only added to my confusion, and so Toby explained how he, too, had been born to a family that just happened to be employed byfamiglia.So, yes, hewaslike me.Notfamiglia, but almost...and I guess that’s why Miguel chose him to handle the “legalities” of my marriage. He knows what’s at stake, once a name is recognized asfamiglia.
“I know your preference for cutting to the chase,” Toby begins soberly as he opens his briefcase. “So if you could take a look at this...”
My hands tremble as I take the document from his hand. It’s a draft of a contract, about a dozen pages that basically spell out what I can expect to receive...if Aivan and I choose to live separate lives.
“I don’t understand...” Does this mean Aivan was really serious about wanting a divorce? In my last phone call with Shayla, she told me she suspected that the divorce—especially since he had even hired Myca to handle it—was Aivan’s knee-jerk reaction to menotcrawling back to him.
He had never been the vindictive type, despite being bornfamiglia,but if there was one thing I’ve learned from being his wife for a decade, then it’s how proud he was. Aivan hated all kinds of failure, and so I could definitely understandhowandwhyhe would try to hurt me that way. It was wrong in every level, but hurt people hurt. That was just how it was in this broken world.
But then this...
I look at Toby. “Who asked you to draft this contract?”
“I’m sorry,signora.I know you think Aivan—”
No. No. No.
I only realize I’ve risen clumsily to my feet when I see Toby lookingupto meet my gaze. “Signora—”
“I’m sorry, I just need...I need time to...”
Think? Cry? Pray?
Words have already failed me, and I quickly turn away to keep Toby’s prying gaze from catching the tears that have already started making my eyes sting.
