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Ruined Secrets: Part 1 – Chapter 2

Luca

Three months ago
(Luca 35 y.o.)
I lean my elbows on the steering wheel and watch the video playing on my phone.
A pair of black pants and a red dress, obviously discarded in a hurry, are lying on the floor in the middle of the room. A man in a white shirt is sitting at the edge of the bed, while a blonde-haired woman is kneeling between his legs, sucking his dick. The room they are in is . . . my bedroom. And the woman who’s currently choking on her bodyguard’s dick is my dear wife.
I put the phone in my jacket, take my gun from the glove compartment, and leave the car.
It’s half past one in the morning, and there’s no one in the hall. My footsteps echo off the dark marble floor and up the wide stairwell. When I reach the third floor, I turn right and walk down the hallway to my daughter’s room to make sure she’s not home. Rosa is having a sleepover at her friend’s, as she usually does when I have to leave home for a couple of days for work. She and her mother never got along well.
I open the door to Rosa’s room and peek inside. Empty. I close the door, then continue to the other end of the hallway, toward my bedroom.
Simona is still on her knees in front of the bodyguard when I enter. The lamp in the corner is giving off more than enough light for me to clearly see the man’s flushed face above Simona’s bobbing head. I lift my gun, aiming at the center of his forehead, and pull the trigger. The loud bang makes the nightstand rattle, and blood sprays all over the white, satin sheets. Simona screams, then jumps up and away from the body now sprawled across the bed. Her face and hair also bear red splotches, and there are some on her breasts and neck. Seems like some of her lover’s brain matter ended up in her hair as well. She is still wailing when I walk casually over to her and grab her upper arm.
“Let me go!” she yells as I drag her out of the room and down the hallway. “You killed him, you monster!”
Simona keeps shrieking all the way down the two flights of stairs, trying to squirm out of my grasp. I ignore her protests and head toward the wide-open front door. Two of my security guards run inside, but stop at the entrance, their eyes bulging out upon seeing us. A maid comes out around the corner from the hall where staff have their rooms and freezes midstep. She’s clutching her knitted cardigan around herself with her gaze locked on Simona’s naked and blood-splattered body. I pass the guards and drag my screaming wife outside, and down the four stone steps to the driveway.
“You’ll receive the divorce papers in the morning,” I spit out and release her arm.
“What? Luca, please! It was a mistake.” She reaches over as if to take my hand.
“Don’t you dare fucking touch me! Get the fuck out of my house.”
“You can’t do this!” she wails. “Luca!”
I turn and go back inside. For some reason, I’m not even angry. The only thing I feel is disgust. With her, but also with myself for not ending things with the bitch sooner.
“Send a maid to bring her something to put on, and call a taxi,” I tell Marco, who is standing by the door. “She’s not to come inside the house.”
“Of course, Mr. Rossi.” He nods quickly.
“There is a body in my bedroom. Have someone take care of that, too,” I say as I move toward the stairwell. I’m halfway to the second floor when my brother’s voice reaches me.
“Luca? What’s going on?”
Damian is standing on the landing to the second floor, wearing only his boxer briefs. Behind him is a dark-haired girl wrapped in a blanket, peeking over his shoulder.
“Simona and I decided to split,” I say as I’m climbing the stairwell. “She’s leaving.”
“Naked?”
“Yes.” I stop in front of him and cast a glance at the girl cowering behind his back. “Good evening, Arianna.”
“Hi, Luca.” She smiles nervously.
“Does your father know where you’re spending the night?”
“Nope,” she mumbles.
I shake my head and look back at my brother. “Franco is going to kill you.”
“Arianna is twenty-one. I think she can make her own decisions, Luca.” He smirks.
“She’s also engaged,” I say and keep heading up the stairs. “I’m going to crash. I have a meeting at eight tomorrow.”
“Luca?” he calls after me. “Was that a gunshot we heard earlier?”
“Yes.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“Nope. Go back to bed, Damian.”
When I reach the third floor, I drop by my bedroom to collect the phone charger and a change of clothes for tomorrow, then head into Rosa’s room to sleep.

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