The Villainess Wants a Divorce Chapter 05
By morning, the lawyer had already sent the papers over.
I stood at the floor-to-ceiling window, pulled back the curtains to a strip of bright sky, and thought: a perfect morning.
Well. A perfect noon.
I scanned the divorce papers and sent them to Renato’s phone with a message to come sign them.
He didn’t reply.
I called him. He ended the call.
I called again. He ended it again.
I called a third time. He turned his phone off.
What kind of Don could Renato be, with such a petty streak?
I drove to the club.
I walked through the front entrance like I owned the place, because technically I still did, went straight down the hall, and threw open Renato’s office door.
Empty.
I sat down in his chair. He’d have to come back eventually.
After a while, the door opened. Noemi’s head appeared around the edge. She came in slowly, carrying a cup of coffee.
“Donna. He’s not here right now. Please, have some coffee.”
I looked at that genuinely pretty, genuinely guileless face of hers and smiled. “You don’t know where he
is either?”
“No, I really don’t-”
She reached out to gesture, forgot she was holding the coffee, and tipped the cup. Scalding liquid poured over her hand. She cried out, face going white.
Those wide, round eyes filled with tears in an instant. She really was hard not to feel sorry for.
She was the heroine of the story. Of course she was.
I picked up Renato’s pen and turned it in my fingers.
“Get him in here. I need to talk to him. And don’t worry, I know what’s going on between the two of you, but I’m not here to make trouble for you.”
Noemi raised her chin. “Donna, I don’t know what you mean. The boss and I have a professional relationship. Nothing more.”
The sunlight fell across her face at just the perfect angle, lending her an air of pure holiness.
Damn the heroine’s aura.
“Drop it. I’ve seen every photo on your private account. You deserve an award for this performance.”
Noemi bit her lower lip, working herself up to something.
I didn’t give her the chance. “I’m right, aren’t I, Renato.”
Noemi spun around. The moment she saw him, her expression went through about four distinct phases in under two seconds: shock, then wounded betrayal, then magnanimous forgiveness, then quiet determined dignity.
Impressive. No wonder she was the heroine.
“Renato…” she said softly. “I’m fine… Donna was looking for you…”
Renato glanced at Noemi, then crossed the room to me.
He took my hand. “What happened?”
I followed his gaze to the back of my hand. A small red burn from the coffee that had splashed over.
I pulled my hand free. “It’s nothing.”
“Tell me what happened,” he said, his voice dropping.
Noemi stepped up beside him, biting her lip. “It was my fault. I wasn’t careful with the cup.”
Renato saw her burned hand then. He cleared his throat. “All right, go get that looked at. Have someone bring you some burn cream.”
Noemi gave him one long, weighted look, then walked out with the measured grace of someone who knew exactly how she moved.
I almost smiled. “She thinks I’m here to ruin things. I’m actually here to let you go.”
Renato shot me a look. “Gianna, did you have to come all the way here for this?”
He looked exhausted. Wronged. Like a man who’d been misunderstood by the universe
A small, unwelcome ache moved through my chest.
The old memories seeped in through the cracks.
A wave of nausea hit me without warning.
“Gianna-are you-”
“Don’t come closer. Don’t touch me.”
I held up a hand, breathed through it, then reached into my purse and produced the divorce papers.
“Sign it. I’ve already signed.”
He looked at the papers. Then at me.
Neither of us spoke. The room was completely still.
Then, quietly, in a way that made no sense: “You’re crying.”
I blinked. Touched my cheek.
Wet.
He picked up the papers. Then, slowly, deliberately, he tore them in half and let the pieces fall.
He pulled at his tie like he couldn’t breathe, undid two buttons at his collar, and said, heavily: “Gianna. We
need to actually talk about this.”
