The Villainess Wants a Divorce Chapter 04
Renato’s eyebrow lifted, then his face went still.
He produced a cigar from his inside pocket, one of his slim Cohibas, lit it, and let out a thread of pale blue
smoke.
“Gianna.” He tapped his foot once against the pavement, the red ember of the cigar pulsing like a warning light. “Drop it, okay? I don’t find this funny.”
I held his gaze. “I’m not joking.”
He choked on the smoke, bent slightly as he coughed.
When he straightened up, his voice was controlled again. “You actually want to divorce me.”
“Yes.”
He was quiet for a moment, processing. Then, flatly: “Why.”
I took out my phone and opened Noemi’s secondary social media account, the one she hadn’t shared
with anyone at the club, just friends. I’d found it after I woke up inside this story.
I scrolled through the photos without a word.
All of them were of her and Renato.
Hiking barefoot through a mountain stream.
Standing on a rooftop, heads tilted up at the stars.
Driving an off-road truck through open desert, side by side.
So many moments of the two of them measuring out the world together, shoulder to shoulder, no
distance between them at all.
Renato stood like a statue in the pale moonlight, watching the photos scroll past in silence.
“I’ve told you,” he said, after a long pause. His voice had a rough edge. “Noemi and I are just friends.
Nothing happened between us. She knows I’m married. Don’t overthink this.”
I put my phone away. “I know. But what a person shows off in public is what’s missing from their private life. You’re bored with me. She has something that draws you in. I don’t stay for the ending. I’d rather say goodbye at the fork in the road.”
Renato dropped the cigar and ground it under his heel.
“Gianna, I have a limit.” His voice finally cracked its calm surface. “I didn’t do anything wrong. How long are you going to keep this up? Come home. Now.”
“I said I want a divorce. I’m not living with someone who might cheat at any moment.”
“Fine!”
He snapped his head up, and for just a second, something raw and unguarded burned in his eyes. “Then send me the papers!”
He turned and walked.
After a few steps, he stopped. Didn’t look back. But I could feel it, the way he tracked me from the corner of his eye, waiting.
I raised my hand.
His shoulders tensed, as if he were about to turn.
I waved. “Goodbye, Renato.”
He went rigid, then jerked his head forward and walked on without looking back.
