The moment Rocco left, his mother and sister grew even bolder, their mocking laughter filling the room.
“See? Because you can’t have children, Rocco doesn’t even care about you anymore.”
“Do us all a favor and leave. If you can’t give him what he wants, don’t waste his time. There are plenty of women now, eager to have his children now that he’s caught the eye of a big boss.”
I didn’t respond to their taunts. Instead, I emptied my glass of wine in one long sip, stood up, and offered them a faint smile.
“Don’t worry. You’ll get exactly what you want.”
They wouldn’t have to wait long; someone had already stepped into the role.
I turned and left, retreating to my home to organize the years of data I had gathered, preparing to transfer it to the organization’s database. Only four days remained.
Meanwhile, Rocco’s mother and sister, mistaking his silence for indifference, believed he was tired of me. They wasted no time in calling him, pushing for a divorce, suggesting that my lack of resistance meant I, too, wanted to end the marriage.
But Rocco’s response was nothing like they expected. His fury erupted. He pushed Avery off his lap, hastily dressed, and stormed out in a blind rage.