The Return of the Mafia Boss

"Damn it, Andrès!" Emilia yelled at her husband in a fury.

"What is this, Emilia? What are you getting so worked up about?" Andrès inquired, his voice tinged with confusion.

"Are you actually slow? Or are you just pretending to be slow? She spat, with no remorse.

"I am neither, but I need you to explain what this is about." Andrès requested.

"Oh, Sweet Lord..." Emilia became frustrated and rubbed her tempo.

"My friends always go shopping for nice things and take vacations with their husbands." Here I am, being mocked at every chance they get for being so broke and sticking to your sorry ass." She nagged.

Andrès understood why she was fighting after hearing what she said, but he still did not get her point. She seemed to be trying to insinuate something, but she had not quite nailed it.

Her nagging eventually became an echo in the room, but he still needed her to relax and understand him.

He needed her to understand that not everything that glitters is gold, but how could he possibly explain this to someone who is obsessed with new bags and shoes?

He tried his best in making sure she didn't lack, but it felt like no matter what he does, it was never enough for her. Her eyes would always be fixed on big things.

He took a deep breath in and gently pulled her closer to himself, "I am sorry baby, but everything will be fine soon." He tried to reassure her, but his words went unheard.

"The boss adores you; in fact, you are the employee he values the most. Use this to your advantage and become wealthy. Dummy!" Andrès was perplexed by what she spat out this time.

"Please, my love, stop fighting me." Andrès urged, clutching her tender hands into his.

She snatched her hands away from him and gave him a death stare: "If you truly value this marriage and want it to last, the best advice I can give you is to stay the hell away from me." She warned him and dashed out of the house, picking up her phone.

Andrès remained in the same position, allowing the silence to envelop him.

The slam of the door echoed in his ear, leaving him with the hope that she would be calm when she returned.

Seconds turned into minutes, minutes into hours, and she was yet to return home, which became cause for concern.

The ticking of the clock on the wall filled the air, making his wait increasingly uncomfortable.

He kept pacing back and forth in the living room, checking his phone for messages from her. He buried his face in his hands, overcome with fear of losing her.

In the stillness of the night and the quiet solitude of the house, Andrès was startled by a sudden sound at the door.

"I apologize; the door was open and I let myself in." His best friend, Gael, said to him.

"It is absolutely fine, man. I assumed it was Emilia." Andrès responded coldly.