Flash Marriage: Shrewd Wife, Devious Husband
Chapter 61: News

Chapter 61: News

"You’re smiling," Tony said after ordering desserts.

"Am I?" Marcella raised her brows. Seeing the happiness on his face, she wondered if she’s been frowning a lot for him to be surprised to see her smiling.

"You are very pretty when you smile, Marcella. It makes me whole, seeing you smile..." he said supporting his cheeks in his hands.

"Elbows off the table, neanderthal," Marcella giggled.

She was happy hearing him speak.

"Neanderthal?" Tony raised his brows.

"Should I call you Casanova then? Or Romeo?" she asked. "You’re a smooth talker..."

"It’s called being charming," Tony flicked his lapel. "You can call me Prince Charming."

Marcella’s smile reduced and she wetted her lips. In the past, they used to talk about a lot. Well, she talked a lot and he would listen. Somehow, when the topic of marriage came up, she once said that she wanted to marry Prince Charming.

’You’re no Cinderella,’ Tony replied. ’If anything, you are Princess Charming who will lift some poor b*stard up from the slums.’

She didn’t know whether he remembered that.

"No, I am not Prince Charming," he said leaning forward. "You’re not Cinderella."

Marcella’s heart started pounding. She’s been having this trouble these days. She didn’t remember feeling this way for a very long time.

Well, she felt the same on the night of the prom. When he refilled her punch every time, she finished drinking; when he touched her waist; when she felt his smooth hair on her cheek as they danced; when she asked him to kiss her...

"Who am I, Tony?" she asked leaning forward. She wondered if he would tell her the truth. "Who am I to you?"

Tony interlocked his fingers under his chin and stared at her for some time. "I cannot describe it with words, Marcella. You’re beyond words for me."

Marcella was touched. "Even the great charmer Antony Crawford could be lost for words, huh?"

"I’m not lost for words," Tony replied immediately. His eyes were smiling with loving tenderness. "There is no word in the English language that could accurately describe what you mean to me."

Marcella gulped.

Damn, this guy is just so... dangerous.

"Who are you?" she mumbled. "I thought I knew you."

"Are you disappointed?" he asked.

Marcella sighed. What should she answer? All he speaks are words of affirmation and praise. She didn’t want to be negative around him.

"I am your wife. That word encompasses everything," she smiled. "You don’t have to look for words in the future."

"Hmm..." Tony smiled. "It’s a powerful word, isn’t it? Wife... You are my wife. I can’t believe it..."

"I know you left my father then. But have you heard something about... Did the cops target my dad because of the incident with the superintendent’s son?" she asked.

Tony leaned back. The carefree smile on his face was reduced to a solemn smile. "Back then, a lot went on..."

"Did my father ever contact you? Did he know you were Paul Romano’s son?" she asked.

Tony said her father let Tony inherit his cigars. She didn’t think her father would have made that choice easily. She had a feeling that the one who inherits the keys to his priced cigar humidor would inherit his seat. She thought for sure it would be Mellissa’s husband.

Why did he choose Tony if they didn’t have any contact and Tony wanted to live a life away from the DeAngelo household?

Marcella observed Tony. His shoulders had slouched a bit and although she couldn’t see his hands, the stiffness on his arms revealed that he was holding his hands tightly. He looked extremely uncomfortable with her question.

Or is there more to it?

"Do you know who you were engaged to, Marcella?" Tony asked. "Did you ever find out?"

Tony’s eyes were focusing on her and his voice broke here and there as he spoke. He sounded hurt. It almost seemed like...

No, it can’t be.

"Wha- why is that relevant?" she asked.

Tony let out a deep breath. He was sorely disappointed. "I figured that much," he mumbled.

She can get pretty dumb at times.

"I was pretty drunk that night, Tony," Marcella said. They are married and he needs to know the truth.

That night was like a stain in a pretty white dress that won’t go off no matter how many times she tried washing it. She tried to focus more on the prom night as she managed to somehow shift the blame on Tony for refusing to kiss her. That’s the only way she could cope with the terrible decisions she made on the night of the party.

"I know, Marcella. I was there," Tony said.

Marcella clutched her chest. The wry tone Tony used and the disappointment on his face ripped her apart. "But I~"

She stopped seeing someone else entering the VIP area of the restaurant. She recognized the loud cackle.

Paul Romano.

"It’s your..." She stopped herself from completing the sentence. Tony appeared to be disgusted hearing Paul.

"...what power does Feinstein hold? He’s a spider web and if that guy dreams of building his fort on that foundation, he will fail..." Paul laughed. "It would be like the blind leading the deaf."

The other guy with Paul laughed along. Marcella thought she recognized that voice but she couldn’t quite grab where she had heard it.

She looked at Tony and he was visibly tensed. It was rare for her to see him this tense. His face was contorted with a cocktail of emotions.

Paul was talking about Congressman Feinstein. If so, the other guy he was laughing about is... Tony? He is laughing at his own son?

The waiter brought the desserts. The cabin next to them went silent for some time. They heard some murmurs and loud laughing.

"Red velvet cake is my favorite. And this is the best," Marcella tried to distract Tony. No matter what, seeing him in low spirits made her mood sour too.

"I can see," Tony smiled at her and started eating his dessert. "Want to have a bite of my key lime pie? This is their signature dish," he said.

"Okay," Marcella passed her plate to him as he sliced his pie.

’hahaha... John was smart but even he was misguided by that b*stard! Who will fund him? Do we even know who his father is? Hahaha...’

The laughing continued.

Marcella fisted her hands. Tony pretended to be fine. Seeing his hurt smile, Marcella couldn’t be seated anymore. She stood up.

"Marcella," Tony held her hand.

"I’ll see what they are planning," she said.

She placed her ear to the partition and listened. They were talking about funding for the next election cycle. The other guy Paul was with appeared to be some big donor. Paul was trying to get that guy’s money for...

"Paul is planning on running for senate?" she asked.

Where did he get that idea from?

Tony sat there with his head bowed.

"They are talking about the bill you guys are planning on passing. Is it about something related to the stock market? Paul is trying to lobby him against... Wait, is that guy..."

She walked back to the seat.

"Why is Paul meeting with Gabriel Hemmingway?" she asked.

Tony held her hand. "Finish your dessert, Marcella," he said.

Marcella get out of his hold and listened more. They were badmouthing Tony.

"They’re scared of you. Why?" she asked.

"I’m planning on running for Congress next election cycle," Tony said.

Marcella was surprised.

But he will be thirty by the next election cycle and he would be eligible to run for congress.

"You look surprised. Do you think I don’t have a chance?" he asked. "That’s what they think, right?"

Marcella saw the wry smile on Tony’s face. She let out a deep breath.

"I am surprised. But... Were you this interested in politics, Tony?" she asked. "You never told me. I thought you wanted to be a lawyer. Why did you..."

Tony smiled. "I promised someone I respected dearly..."

Marcella nodded. "Cynthia always wanted to see you in~"

"Not my grandmother," Tony shook his head.

Marcella wondered who else it might be. It cannot be her father because her father had no interest in politics.

Maybe someone else like his mentor?

"Your father. I promised your father," Tony said.

Marcella’s heart skipped a beat. "Dad asked you?"

Tony nodded and held her hand. "He wanted to take you to the white house."

Marcella staggered back.

This was news for her. Why did her father want to jump into politics knowing what kind of place that was?

"Did it contribute to his untimely death?" she asked.

"That’s one assumption," Tony said. There was some proof. But he didn’t want to hurt her.

Marcella walked to the exit.

"Where are you going?" Tony asked.

"To start a war, Tony," Marcella smirked.