Married to Mafia Boss novel Chapter 96

Chapter 96

Alis POV

Before heading home, Marco accompanied me to the supermarket to buy meat and vegetables for lunch,

At the entrance of the supermarket, there was a stall selling tomatoes. I loved eating them and would always buy some whenever I came here.

The tomato seller was a middle–aged woman, friendly with a particularly loud voice. Since I came often, she had come to recognize me.

As she was bagging my tomatoes, she asked, “Young lady, is that your boyfriend or husband behind you?‘

Women love to gossip, especially when they see such a handsome man and beautiful woman together. It’s hard not to stare and wonder about their relationship.

Hearing her question, I unconsciously turned to look at Marco.

Whenever I bought anything, he would wait by my side, carrying bags of all sizes without showing any impatience.

I turned back to the woman and smiled, “He’s my husband.”

As soon as I said those words, I suddenly felt like I owned the entire world.

This was how I wanted to proudly tell others–he is my husband.

The woman continued, “Young lady, many men are willing to accompany you shopping once, but few will accompany you every time. When you find one who does, hold onto him tightly. Don’t let anyone steal him away, or you’ll end up crying.”

“Yes, I understand,” I nodded firmly. “Thank you.”

Indeed, how could I let anyone steal away such a good man?

The way the woman spoke was like an elder speaking to her child, reminding me of my own mother.

My mother truly loved me. When I agreed to get engaged to Gabriel, she had said something similar.

Wiping away tears, she had said, “Alia, your mother doesn’t care if the man you marry is wealthy. I only hope he treats you well, cherishes you, and protects you. But I can’t make this decision for you…”

Sometimes, I really wanted to call my mother and tell her that her daughter had found the person she wanted to spend her life with.

But I still didn’t have the courage…

Perhaps it wasn’t that I lacked courage, but that I feared what treatment my mother might face if I called her.

“Look at her husband, he’s so good, often accompanying his wife to buy groceries.”

As Marco and I walked away, the woman’s loud voice carried to our ears from a distance.

1 looked up at Marco and smiled, “Someone’s praising you again.”

Marco held the bags in one hand and took my hand with the other, simply responding, “Mm.”

I rolled my eyes. Did he have to be so cold? The winter weather was already cold enough–was he trying to freeze me by turning into a block of ice?

Just as I was feeling extremely dissatisfied with him internally, I heard him add, “Not as good as your praise just now.”

Hearing his words, I curled my lips upward, raised my eyebrows slightly, and smiled trappily,

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Chapter 96

Looking at Marey’s straight back, I carefully hooked my arm through his, telling myself again to try taking one step forward perhaps I would see a different sky.

Mr. Vittorio, Mrs. Vittorio, hello!”

With an exceptionally sweet voice, Mifiia, who looked like a doll, came bouncing over, smiling cheerfully as she greeted us.

Where’s your husband?‘ Marco knew that if Miliia was here, Ivan must be nearby.

Milia looked back, pointing to a car not far away, and said in broken Italian, “He sent me to get the dress.”

The car was parked not far from us, with its windows rolled down.

At a glance, I could clearly see the man sitting in the driver’s seat–black hair, brown eyes, with messy hair that looked like it hadn’t been styled for days. His features had the distinctive charm of an Italian man: deep–set eyes and a high nose bridge.

Seemingly aware of my scrutiny, the man turned to look at me, our gazes meeting, and then he curved his lips into an enigmatic smile.

Feeling a bit uncomfortable under his gaze, I quickly looked away and turned to Mifiia, “I should have returned the dress myself. Sorry for troubling you to come get it.”

“It’s no trouble, Mifiia rarely had the chance to leave the villa, so she was more than happy to have this opportunity to go out.

Ivan didn’t get out of the car, and Marco didn’t go over to greet him either. Despite supposedly being good friends, neither seemed inclined to acknowledge the other.

I couldn’t help but glance back at Ivan again–the famous Italian designer Ivan, my idol.

However, this Ivan was different from what I had imagined. In online photos, Ivan looked handsome and sunny, but the Ivan I saw gave off a wild, unrestrained vibe.

Years ago, my biggest dream was to study design under Ivan.

To help me study abroad with my idol, my mother had sold an emerald bracelet that had been passed down to her from my grandmother, gathering a sum of

money.

Mother had said, “Alia, as long as you like it, anything I do is worth it.”

But my father intercepted that money. He chose the medical aesthetics major for me, but I refused, insisting on becoming a designer.

Later, the money from my mother’s bracelet was used by my father to fund Maria’s studies in America, effectively depriving me of my chance to study abroad.

Now, my idol was right in front of me, within reach. The feeling was both exciting and complex.

I wanted to run over and ask Ivan if he was still taking apprentices. If he was willing to accept me, I would work for him without asking for a penny.

I felt this urge strongly, but I suppressed it.

Now, I wasn’t alone. Before making any decision, I needed to consider Marco’s feelings too; I couldn’t selfishly make decisions.

After getting the dress, I escorted Mifiia downstairs.

Because of the small incident that night, I had resewn the dress, so I felt I should apologize to the original designer.

As I approached the car, the man inside spoke, Mrs. Vittorio, your man isn’t very friendly. I’m sitting here, and how can he pretend not to see me?”

After my initial surprise, I replied, ‘Marco is just like that. He doesn’t talk much normally. Please don’t take it personally.”

“Take it personally? I couldn’t be bothered,” Ivan curved his lips into a smile and said, “Considering how beautiful Mrs. Vittorio is, I’ll consider this dress as

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Chapter 96

Jonned to him for a day, free of charge.”

1 smiled. Thank you!

Ivan continued. At least Mrs. Vittorio knows her manners. Look at your Mr. Vittorio–we’re such close acquaintances, yet he always maintains that stern face. Who is he trying to impress with his aloofness?

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