Married to Mafia Boss novel Chapter 59

Chapter 59

Alia POV

Marco ignored me, and I felt awkward, standing there not knowing whether to approach

or retreat,

After a while, Marco finally looked up, his eyes cold and calm behind gold–rimmed glasses: ‘Why did you come?”

He was sick, had been unconscious with fever, and his wife still had the heart to go to work, leaving him aside without asking about him–truly a heartless

woman.

Marco’s expression and tone made me feel unwelcome. I felt uneasy and pressed my lips together: ‘Luca asked me to come see you.”

Alia, you only came because Luca asked you? If I hadn’t told Luca to make that call, would you not have come at all?

Marco frowned, his voice becoming even colder and more detached: “Now that you’ve seen me, you can go back to work.”

I froze in place, the soup bowl in my hands feeling heavier by the second. After everything–the worry, cooking, and the humiliation of being turned away earlier–this is what I got? Colder treatment than from his assistant?

“Fine,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

I turned to leave, my chest tight with pain and anger. Each step toward the door felt like walking through quicksand.

Marco watched my retreating figure, his eyes dark, his expression grim, the newspaper in his right hand nearly crumpled.

At the doorway, I suddenly stopped, took a deep breath, turned around, and glared at him fiercely: “Marco, you’re a fucking bastard!”

I had worried about him all morning, and now that I finally saw him, his first words were telling me to leave.

He always claimed to be my husband, but what kind of man doesn’t even let his wife see him when he’s sick?

The more I thought about it, the more heartbroken and angry I became. My nose stung, and two crystal tears escaped from the corners of my eyes.

I wiped them away roughly and bit my lip: “Marco, however you die, it’s none of my business. Let’s just pretend we never knew each other.”

My sudden outburst stunned Marco. Beyond his shock, he noticed the tears falling from the corners of my eyes.

Marco’s heart inexplicably twisted with pain, a feeling that spread through his unprepared heart–a sensation he had never experienced before.

He remembered that when I had angered Gabriel and was taken to the police station, even in that situation, he hadn’t seen me cry, yet now…

“Alia, come here,” Marco’s voice unconsciously softened, and he beckoned to me.

“You tell me to leave and I should leave, you tell me to come over and I should come? What do you think I am?” I was stubborn too, not easily called back.

Marco raised an eyebrow: “You won’t come over?”

I ignored him and rubbed my eyes hard, hating myself for crying in front of this man. When had I become so tearful?

*Then I’ll come to you.” Marco made a move to pull out the IV needle from his hand.

“What are you doing? Trying to kill yourself?” I jumped in fright and rushed over to stop him,

“If I die, you’ll become a young widow, perfect for inheriting my fortune,” Marco said with a serious expression, though his eyes behind the gold–rimmed glasses held a hint of amusement.

“You… I hadn’t known this man could

be

so glib, though he still looked completely serious.

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Chapter 59

Marco raised his hand to my cheek, his rough thumb gently wiping away the tear marks from the corner of my eye! Alt, tell me, why are you trying

I bit my lip and said fiercely: ‘I’m afraid if you die, I’ll really become a widow.”

Marco laughed deeply, pulled me into his arms, and whispered: “Little fool!

You’re the fool! Your whole family are fools!

I wanted to retort, but he held me so tightly, as if trying to embed me into his warm chest.

How could he be so strong? With just one arm, he held me firmly, and no matter how I struggled, I couldn’t break free.

“Don’t move.”

His deep, suppressed voice sounded above my forehead, with a soul–capturing hoarseness,

Those two simple words were like a spell, instantly draining all my resistance.

Marco smiled with satisfaction and rested his chin on my head.

And Alia in his arms, while annoyed at her easy surrender, unconsciously curved her lips into a smile.

His breath brushed against my face, his heartbeat close by, and I felt inexplicably secure.

“Young master, the meal is ready.” The woman responsible for Marco’s meals entered at an inappropriate moment, saw us embracing, and quickly retreated.

Marco released me: “Darling, will you join me for dinner?”

I nodded.

Marco wouldn’t let the nurse help him, so the labor fell to me. I held the IV bag high with one hand and had to manage the stand with the other, while Marco truly acted like a young master, not bothering with anything.

After everything was set up, I finally sat down across from Marco. He beckoned: “Come sit on my side.”

I instinctively glanced at the woman who was arranging the tableware. A woman’s sixth sense told me that this woman didn’t welcome me, so I remained

seated.

Marco’s long fingers habitually tapped lightly on the table, his eyes narrowed, lost in thought. Only after the woman had finished setting out the food did he say: “Mary, there’s nothing more for you to do here. You can go now.”

Mary opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but knowing Marco’s temperament, she nodded: “Young master, young mistress, enjoy your meal.”

The words ‘young mistress nearly made me choke on the water I had just sipped, and my delicate, pretty face flushed red again.

Seeing my embarrassed expression, Marco said: “The lady you just met is the servant who has always been responsible for my meals. You can call her Mary

in the future.

With driver Salvatore, loyal assistants like Luca and Julio, and Mary specifically in charge of meals, he clearly came from what people commonly refer to as a prestigious family.

Marco said he had been doing business abroad before. What kind of business was he in? Somehow, his true identity seemed even more intimidating than being the CEO of Cortez Technology.

Marco beckoned again: “Sit beside me and help me with the food.”

“Your right hand works fine, I said quietly. The IV needle was in Marco’s left hand, and his right hand had just held me so untly. Why couldn’t he use it to pick up food now?

I usually eat with my left hand,” Março’s voice sounded slightly dissatisfied, but his sensual lips held a faint smile.

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Chapter 59

I learned something new–Marco was also first–class at felling blatant lies. When had I ever seen him eat with his left hand before!

But considering he was sick today, I decided to tolerate him. As he said, if something really happened to him, I would besome a young widow

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