Carlo’s POV
Carlo’s POV
I was pacing in the master bedroom, where my wife should be, but she wasn’t and many of her belongings were gone. I had called my head staff, Ms. Martinez, and asked her where my wife went. She looked scared as she looked back behind her then back to me.
“Master Carlo, the missus dragged a suitcase down to the guest room at the end of the hall.” Her voice shook.
My head snapped up at her. “What?” My voice was deadly quiet.
“The missus, uh, had a suitcase, uh, and went with it, to the, uh, guest room.”
I had charged past her to the guest room and could hear the television on.
I began to pound on the door yelling at my wife to open the door.
I kept pounding until my butler came to me, looking frantic, as he handed me the spare key for the room.
I used it to unlock the door, turned the knob and pushed, but it didn’t budge.
What the fuck?
I pounded louder on the door, yelling at her to open the door.
“Open the fucking door, Catalina!”
I was fucking pissed.
Fuck!
“I’ll deal with her tomorrow. La perra estúpida!”
I charged past the staff and went back to the master bedroom and slammed the door. I headed over to the en suite minibar and pulled out a glass and my favorite scotch. I poured a glass and threw it back quickly.
I figured she would be crying like a baby about seeing me with Emily and maybe beg me to stop, but I didn’t expect her to leave our fucking bedroom. That wasn’t the plan.
I knew I was taking a risk by having her catch us together, but I needed her to know she didn’t control me.
I could do whatever I wanted. It didn’t help that I was falling for my wife, when I had not planned on that.
At all. She needed to know her place in this arrangement.
Yes we had good sex. Okay it was way better with my wife than it was with Emily.
Emily was okay at sex. Actually, the sex was mediocre at best. But I knew what I was dealing with Emily and she knew the score.
Well, I hoped she did. She hadn’t told my wife about the three other times we had fucked since I got married, so I figured she knew how to keep her mouth shut.
I suddenly felt dirty and needed a shower. I always wanted a shower after fucking Emily ever since I married my wife. On our wedding night we had sex, and it had been phenomenal. Which was probably why I hadn’t reached out much to Emily. In fact, she reached out to me first.
I turned the shower on hot, waiting for the steam to fill the room then charged back out into the master bedroom. I yanked my clothes off, ripping the shirt in the process, as I threw them into the dirty hamper.
Fuck!
I jumped into the shower and started scrubbing my body everywhere. I needed all of Emily off of me. I needed to figure out what to do with my wife. She would have to learn to accept Emily. I wasn’t going to give up everything for this fucking marriage. I never wanted it in the first place!
But I remembered our first night of the wedding, her in a satin mid thigh lingerie dress that showed off her beautiful tanned skin.
She was a little darker than most Italians, and could actually pass for Hispanic.
She had beautiful, silky curly hair that I had learned I loved dragging my hands through.
Then I would slide my hand down the side of her face, gently touching her neck as I moved my hand down to her collar bone.
My cock was getting hard just thinking about my wife.
Even though I had just fucked Emily, just thinking of my wife turned me on completely.
I grabbed my cock in my hand, leaned forward against the side wall of the shower, while it rained down over me, and began jerking off.
It wasn’t long before I was shooting my semen all over the shower wall.
I wore condoms with Emily. Always had. Always would.
My wife? I would take her bare. I needed an heir from her.
But that wasn’t the only reason. I wanted to claim her in every way. She was mine.
But I had a bad feeling about what had just happened. I would let her cool down, then she would get her ass back in our bedroom. I wasn’t playing this shit with her.
After finishing cleaning up, I texted Emily.
Me: You need to stay away from the house for a bit.
Emily: But why, Carlo? I thought we had a good time.
I grimaced. I’m not sure that’s what I would call it. It was okay. And her orgasms were fake as shit. But she served the purpose. She helped me send a message to my wife. I didn’t tell her that, but after we were done I did tell her my wife had walked in on us.
Emily had smirked at me, until she saw the look on my face.
“Well, she just needs to learn that you have needs she can’t fill.” She started to approach me to put hands on me, but I stepped back. I didn’t like that look that had crossed her face when I mentioned my wife seeing us together. She stopped a foot away, hand outstretched, her smile faltering.
“This doesn’t change shit between us, Emily.”
She forced her smile at me. “Of course not Carlo. We will keep doing as we have always done.” And she continued coming to me, putting her hands on my chest. I felt dirty then too. I gently moved her hands away.
“You should head out. I need to go deal with my wife.”
Her smile remained as she shrugged. “Okay. Call me when you need me again.”
To be fair, of all the four hookups I had with her since the wedding, this was the only one where I called her.
I had to refocus back to my phone. I didn’t want to think about that shit that went down earlier. What was done, was done.
Me: I’ll see you at the dinner next week.
Emily: I’m still allowed to come, even with your wife there?
Was this bitch testing me? Did I really want her at the dinner? Yes, because I had to show Catalina that Emily would be in the picture for as long as I wanted her to be.
Me: Yes. You will be my guest.
Emily: I will see you then. ??
What the fuck was that? Fucking emojis. I tossed my phone on the bed, grabbed the remote, and tried to settle in for the night.
I soon realized not having my wife in bed with me would be for a long, horrible night.