My Second Marriage with the Mafia Kingpin

Lucian tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, deep in thought. He had called the people in the neighborhood and was told there wasn’t any problem.

So, it made him wonder what had upset Nolan so much.

Deep down, he knew it was about Ashley. But for the past few days, Ashley had told him she was busy. Considering she was setting up her own office, Lucian thought he was being considerate by taking on some of the burden regarding himself and Primo.

Pulling up in the quiet neighborhood, Lucian glanced at their home. The lights inside were still on, making him furrow his brows.

"Is she still awake?" he wondered, checking the time.

It was already late.

Stepping out of the car, Lucian was about to make his way inside when he heard some noise across the street. He turned his head and narrowed his eyes, listening to the slurred voices.

"Are those..." he trailed off as he crossed the street, stopping at the pavement before the open gate.

There, at the entrance, six figures were sprawled on the floor by the front door. His brows knitted.

"What I’m saying is, don’t be nice," Red slurred, pointing at Ashley. "You aren’t even nice to begin with! Why are you acting like an angel when you’re a demon! You’re the devil!"

"Man, you’re frustrating," Gin mumbled, eyes almost closed.

"No, the other party is more frustrating," Vodka muttered, hand cupping his face. "What a piece of scum."

Ashley pouted as she huffed sharply, glaring at those who were just as drunk as she was. They didn’t even know how they had ended up like this, but they did remember buying some beer just to loosen up a little.

"Weren’t you listening to me?" she complained, only to pause as she caught a figure from the corner of her eye. "Oh."

She blinked slowly, her vision doubling. At the same time, the guys turned their heads until their gazes landed on the man standing a few meters from them.

"Ah," Red scrunched up his nose. "It’s the piece of trash."

"No, it’s the deadbeat."

"What an asshole — shameless scum!"

"Prick!" Ashley intoned, pointing at Lucian. "Jerk!"

"Ugh... no, no!" Rum straightened and turned to her, waving his hand in frustration. "You should curse him out more. Pricks and jerks are just too easy on the ears."

The rest nodded until Vodka added, like a sage, "Do it like you mean it."

"But..." Ashley frowned, pouting. "...I’m scared!"

All five of them paused, looking up as if thinking. After a moment of drunken consideration, they turned back to her.

"Scared? Why would you be scared of someone like him?" they said in unison. "Just do it. If you’re going to die, might as well die without regrets."

Ashley, for some reason, felt persuaded. She narrowed her eyes and glared at Lucian.

"Hey!" she shouted, finger pointed at him. "You... you’re a piece of shit!"

Then she looked back at them, and they nodded, giving her a thumbs-up.

Gin commented, "That’s not a bad start. Go on."

"Ahem!" she cleared her throat. "Son of a gun!"

This time, they reacted with displeasure. "Come on!"

"But it’s my hubby," she pouted, puffing her cheeks. "I don’t want to hurt his feelings."

"Hubby my ass!" Rum harrumphed angrily, pulling her aside to scold her. The other guys chimed in, reminding her how Lucian was a piece of trash that even a toilet would refuse to flush.

Meanwhile, the husband in question stood there in pure silence.

He watched and listened to his own men—the ones he had entrusted to protect and safeguard Ashley—coach her on how to trash-talk him.

"You can do it!" they cheered, rising to their feet, bodies swaying.

They held Ashley in the middle, pushing her forward to confront Lucian. They cheered quietly behind her, too drunk to even think about the situation they were in.

As for Ashley, she took a step and tried to steady herself. She hiccupped as she stood before Lucian.

"You!" she raised her chin, putting on a brave face.

"Go on, say it," came a tug from behind her, making her click her tongue.

Ashley cleared her throat and drew a deep breath, staring at Lucian. But as her lips parted, she closed them again, forming a deep frown. Her shoulders sagged.

"Never mind," she mumbled as she turned back.

Seeing her fold, the other five looked at her with dismay. "Shit, she’s folding."

"I’m not folding!" she yelled before facing Lucian again. "I’m just... whatever."

A gloomy look settled on her face as she dragged her feet toward him. She scoffed, rolled her eyes, and walked past him. But just as she did, Ashley missed a step.

Lucian reacted instantly, catching her with an arm around her stomach.

He sighed, pulling her close before swiftly lifting her into his arms.

Ashley puffed her cheeks and lowered her head, neither struggling nor protesting. As for Lucian, he glanced at the five drunkards, who were giving him and Ashley a look of deep disappointment.

Seeing them this drunk alongside Ashley was not something he had ever imagined. Even so, Lucian said nothing.

Turning on his heel, he carried his wife across the street and into their home.

*****

Ashley was drunk—there was no doubt about it.

By the time they reached their bedroom, she had already fallen asleep. Lying her down carefully, Lucian studied her face. His hand slowly moved to the corners of her eyes, noticing her eyelids looked more swollen than usual.

Her nose was red, just like her cheeks and ears—probably from the alcohol.

But only one question hovered in his mind.

Why?

"What’s wrong?" he whispered, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand. His eyes softened, his heart tightening slightly.

Lucian exhaled heavily and sat on the edge of the bed, resting his arms on his legs, his expression dark.

He thought about how bright her smile had been earlier that day before he left.

But no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t find an answer. Not because he lacked possibilities, but because he refused to jump to conclusions. If something was wrong, he believed she would tell him.

After a long while, Lucian shook his head and walked out of the bedroom. He dragged his feet downstairs for a glass of water and some medicine she could take tomorrow.

But as soon as he reached the dining room, his steps faltered.

Deep lines formed on his face as he looked at the dishes left on the table. Lucian approached them. The portions were large enough for several people.

Then, very slowly, he could see Ashley seated on that chair, eating all alone. She ate without a word, without even tasting the food, as if she were just filling the silence.

His jaw tightened as a lump formed in his throat.

"They were right," he whispered, focusing on the mirage of Ashley eating. "You are, indeed, the lowest of the low."