Chapter 49- Ice Between Us
Lucia Morning light filtered through bulletproof glass, painting our kitchen in shades of gold that felt like mockery. Everything gleamed with perfect precision – imported marble counters, professional–grade appliances that cost more than most cars, delicate Italian china set for two at our usual breakfast spots
Two sems. Two coffee cups. Two people pretending this was just another Tuesday
Mrs. Chen moved efficiently around us, placing fresh pastries and fruit with practiced care before disappearing with that professional invisibility I’d come to appreciate. The coffee she’d left steamed gently in my favorite cup – the one with hand–painted roses that Dante had imported from some tiny Tuscan village months ago
1 pushed it aside, reaching instead for a plain white mug from the cabinet. Small rebellions were all 1 had left.
“The Downtown Alliance expects us by nine.” Dante’s voice carried that careful neutrality he’d perfected over three days of arctic silence. He didn’t look up from his tablet, where campaign schedules and security briefings probably demanded his careful attention.
“Tin aware.” I buttered my toast with precise movements, not acknowledging how his jaw tightened slightly at my tone. “James sent the itinerary last |||||might.”
“The speech mentions family values.” Another careful statement, loaded with implications neither of us would touch. “They’ll expect appropriate..”
“Performances? I cut in, letting ice coat each syllable. “Don’t worry. I remember my contractual obligations regarding public appearances.”
His fingers willed on his tablet for just a moment – microscopic tell that would have been invisible to anyone who hadn’t spent months learning to
read him. “Lucia “
“We should leave early.” I stood, gathering my barely–touched breakfast with efficient movements. “Traffic on Fifth Avenue is always worse on council meeting days.”
He watched me cross to the sink, his clark eyes carrying something 1 refused to analyze. Three days of maintaining perfect public unity while private distance stretched between us like a chasm. Three days of remembering contract terms laid out in cold legal language, reducing intimacy to business arrangements.
Three days of pretending my heart hadn’t cracked reading those files
The drive downtown passed in careful silence, both of us absorbed in our phaises while Taylor navigated morning traffic with professional efficiency. I felt Dante’s presence like a live wire, his heat radiating across the careful space between us. Once, that proximity would have made me want to lean closer to bridge the gap with casual touches that had become natural.
Now I pressed closer to my door, maintaining precise inches of distance.
The Downtown Alliance had spared no expense transforming their counyard into a campaign showcase. White roses and patriotic bunting draped elegant stone lumn while carefully positioned photographen captured every moment. The perfect backdrop for a rising political star and Is devoted wife.
Dante’s hand settled on my lower back as we approached the podium – a practiced gesture that once felt natural but now burned like betrayal. I smiled for the cameras, letting my body curve toward his with calculated affection while my mind circled memories of other women doing the same. Other contracts, other arrangements, other perfectly choreographed performances.
“Romano for Progress!” Signs waved as he began speaking, his voice carrying that smooth authority that commanded attention. I watched him work the crowd with practiced ease, noting how his usual calculated charm now felt like confirmation of everything those contracts represented.
How many other women had watched him like this? How many had convinced themselves they were different, special, more than just another careful arrangement?
“My wife represents everything I value,” he was saying, his hand tightening slightly on my waist. “Family, loyalty, partnership
I let my smile warm right on cur, playing my part perfectly while acid burned in my stomach. The crowd ate it up the power couple, the fairy tale
the perfect political marriage. If they only knew how well–rehearsed this particular performance was.
romance,
My phone buzzed in my clutch – a message from an unknown number:
-You deserve better than another man’s careful arrangements. Dinner tonight? Just us, at Giovanni’s on Grove Street. Come alone – no Romano security. We need to talk.”
I deleted it automatically, but something in the phrasing nagged at me. Giovanni’s had been my favorite restaurant years ago, before power plays and political marriages complicated everything. The tiny family–owned place where simple pasta dishes came with genuine warmth instead of careful calculation
“A round of applause for my beautiful wife,” Dante’s voice cut through my thoughts. Right on schedule – fourteen minutes into his standard campaign speech, precisely timed to maximize media coverage while maintaining spontaneous appearance.
I stood, letting him pull me close for the expected kiss. His lips brushed mine with perfect political passion while cameras flashed. Once, that touch would have made heat pool in my belly. Now I just counted seconds until I could step away without seeming obvious.
*Beautiful performance,” someone called as we left the podium. “You two are so natural together
If they only knew.
The drive back fel endless, silence stretching between us like physical weight, Dante worked on his phone, pfpably coordinating the ne
a while my own
Chapter 49- Ice Between Us
campaign appearance with the same precision he coordinated everything else. I stared out the window, watching the city blur past phone stayed dark in my lap.
Another message buzzed – same unknown number:
“Eight o’clock. No security, no Romano control, just trath about what you’re worth”
I glanced at Dante, finding his attention still fixed on his screen. How many other women had sat in this car, maimaining careful distance while playing their contracted parts? How many had thought they could be more than just another arrangement?
“The charity board meets at two,” he said finally, voice carrying that dangerous edge that meant he was controlling something deeper. They’ll
expect..
“The usual show?” I kept my voice perfectly pleasant, the way those contracts probably specified. “Don’t worry, I remember how to play my part.
His jaw ticked – that tiny tell that meant has control was slipping. Once, I would have pressed that advantage, enjoying how he responded when I challenged his careful patterns,
Now I just uumed back to the windone, letting silence till the space where truth should have been
My phone buzzed one final time
*Time to stop being just another contract, don’t you think!”
