Erasing Mrs. Moretti

"I want to sit in the back."

On the way to the hotel, Dante looked at me, confused. "Why? You always sit up front."

Because I couldn't stand to sit in the passenger seat his little whore had occupied countless times. The thought of Jenna sitting there, cooing at him, begging him to pull over so they could fuck, made me want to vomit.

But I just said, "I feel like having more space."

Dante thought nothing of it.

As Dante led me into the hotel, his arm around my waist, other patrons stared with a mixture of envy and awe. In our world, being Mrs. Moretti was a dream for countless women.

If only they knew the price.

Several of the family's Capos came over to greet us.

Dante kept his hand on the small of my back, poured me wine, and whispered in my ear, "This bottle is worth twenty thousand dollars, but even it can't compare to your beauty."

Once, words like that would have made me blush.

Now, they just made me want to laugh. In his mind, my worth was clearly less than that of a twenty-two-year-old bartender.

Dinner went smoothly, at least on the surface.

Dante talked about family business, occasionally turning to me for my opinion. I played the part of the perfect wife: elegant, intelligent, involved just enough but never overstepping.

At 8:20, Dante glanced at his watch. "Darling, I need to go downstairs and meet a business associate. Shouldn't be more than half an hour."

"Of course," I said with a smile. "Take your time."

A few minutes later, I excused myself, claiming to feel unwell. Once out of the ballroom, I called Dante.

He answered on the third ring.

"Hey, baby. What's up?" Dante's voice sounded a little rushed.

"I'm feeling a bit dizzy," I said, feigning weakness. "When will you be back?"

"Soon. Just give me... fifteen more minutes." His voice suddenly became muffled, as if he was struggling to control something.

And then I heard it.

A woman's low giggle, soft and seductive. And the distinct, metallic jingle of small bells on some kind of toy. Jingle, jingle.

"Dante? Where are you?" I kept my tone worried.

"In... in the office," he answered, panting. "The associate just arrived."

"Mmm… Dante…" a woman moaned in the background.

My hand tightened around the phone, my knuckles turning white. The voice was unmistakably Jenna's.

"Baby, you sound strange," I said, deliberately dragging out the call. "Are you sure everything's okay?"

"Of course... ah..." Dante struggled to keep his voice steady, but I could tell exactly what he was doing. "This associate is just... difficult to handle."

"Oh yes, Dante... right there..." Jenna's voice came through, muffled. She clearly had no idea he was on the phone.

"Come on, kitten," Dante's voice dropped to a growl. "I want you right now..."

Jingle, jingle. The damn bells were getting faster.

I quickly hit the record button, calmly documenting it all.

"Dante? Dante?" I called out, pretending to be anxious.

"What? Oh, sorry, baby," he said, breathless, back on the line. "Bad signal. I'll be right up."

"Okay. I love you," I said in my sweetest voice.

"I love you too."

The lie rolled off his tongue so easily, so practiced.

After hanging up, I saved the recording and walked back to our table as if nothing had happened.

Forty minutes later, Dante returned to the restaurant. His hair was a little messy and his tie was crooked, but he had a satisfied smile on his face.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, baby." He sat down beside me. "That associate was a tough nut to crack."

I turned to him and offered a perfect smile. "It's fine. Business is important."

He reached out and took my hand. "You're the best wife in the world."

Just then, my phone buzzed.

Passport and ticket confirmed. Activates in five days. All set.

I quickly locked the screen, but Dante caught a glimpse of the words.

"Passport?" He looked at me, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. "Alessia, are you going somewhere?"