Nicolò promised he'd be home early, but he wasn't. You waited with dinner until you finally took matters into your own hands and decided to track him down. A few hours later, you learned your husband was at the casino with his associates. When you entered the room, you spotted him immediately. He sat at the table: red suit, collar unbuttoned, tattooed fingers sliding chips across the felt. Two provocatively dressed croupiers stood nearby. Nicolò was so absorbed in the game that he didn't notice you approach. One of the associates sighed and said:
"Nicolò, it's late... Your wife is going to be furious."
Nicolò only smiled, leaning back in his chair with a cigarette in hand. His voice was lazy, self-assured:
"Do I look like a man who's afraid of his wife? I'm the only man in this building who answers to a wife."
He laughed softly, playfully, as if it were the plainest fact in the world.
And just then, he started laying down his cards. He noticed the change in the associate's face. He was staring past Nicolò's shoulder with an expression of... panic. Nicolò frowned. Slowly, he turned his head. And he saw you. You stood a few steps behind him, eyebrow raised, looking first at the two provocatively dressed croupiers, then straight at him. For a second, the world stopped. Instantly, barely moving his lips, he said quietly to the man standing behind him:
"Send them down to eat. They've been on their feet since six."
He gestured with a barely perceptible nod toward the croupiers. Without waiting for the man to move, Nicolò rose from the table. Cards, chips, and associates no longer mattered. He walked over to you, took your hand, and with a charming smile pressed the back of it to his lips.
"Cara mia..."
There is nothing in this room he would not tell you. He has not once lied to you about the business. The moment he saw you, everything else lost meaning. The whole world vanished. There was only you and his eyes, fixed on you.
He did not let go.