Flash Marriage: Shrewd Wife, Devious Husband
Chapter 87: On To Something

Chapter 87: On To Something

Marcella picked up the groceries on her way home. She decided to prepare an elaborate dinner. She was planning on preparing the traditional Sunday dinner, but she couldn’t cook in the morning, she decided to do it in the evening.

Sunday dinner was a big thing in her house. That was the only day her mother cooked. They all wore their best dress and sat around the dining table. Her father would tell them stories of their childhood and about their grandparents they never got to meet. Those were good times.

Mellissa followed it too. Marcella though, never cared for it as she lived alone. Now that she was married, she wanted to keep the tradition going.

It’s odd she never wanted to keep the tradition going when she was with Aiden. Granted, she never stayed home with him but she had plenty opportunities to spend Sunday afternoons with him. She never took it. She chose to stay home. Also, Aiden preferred to be with his buddies on Sundays.

It was odd; the feeling bubbling in her heart. She’s not someone who enjoyed cooking much, but she couldn’t help but get excited thinking about cooking for him.

Carrying the heavy bags, she walked home. She loved walking. Just as she was nearing her apartment building, she sensed someone sneaking behind her. All her senses became aware and she walked in a faster pace.

But the looming presence she felt behind her brushed against her sleeves and in a fell swoop got her bags from her hands.

"Emerson?"

Marcella looked at the tall figure in front of her.

"Marcella DeAngelo," John Emerson smiled widely. His broad shoulders blocked the evening sun from her eyes as he covered her. "Good to see you!"

"Good to see you too, John Emerson," Marcella smiled back to be polite. She got her bags from the guy.

She hasn’t heard about this friend of Rudolf Hemmingway in a while. He was one of the guys who regularly made her life hell through high school. She didn’t know why he was talking to her as if they were old friends.

Oh, right... He used to be Mellissa’s boyfriend for a month or so before dad scared him off.

"You live around here? I can help," John tried to get her bags, but Marcella refused.

"I’m fine by myself, Emerson."

John’s smile faltered a bit but he walked alongside her.

"What are you doing these days, Emerson?" she asked. She didn’t know why he was sticking to her like a gum.

"I’m in law enforcement. Come to me if you get into any troubles," he chuckled.

Marcella looked at him blankly. She couldn’t understand how all her bullies think that they could come and chat her up as if they did nothing wrong. It leaves her with a difficult choice.

If she acknowledges the damage they did to her, she would be relenting her power to them. She did not like others to think that they hold that sort of power over her. But if she doesn’t address what they did, they will never know that they’ve hurt her.

She has another choice here. Wait like an eagle for a chance to get back at them.

Thinking of the third choice, a smile bloomed on her face.

"That’s pretty broad, Emerson," she smiled. "Law enforcement..."

Why can’t he state his position clearly? Is he just an officer and finds it embarrassing to mention it?

"Well, technically I work for the FBI. But... I cannot say more..." he leaned to her ear.

"OOOh, that sounds... interesting..." Marcella stuffed her bags into his hands.

John smirked and walked alongside her. "We are not investigating you, if you want to know."

"Oh, I never thought that. What’s there to investigate about me? I left home ten years ago and my entire family is dead," she said looking dead in his eyes.

John let out a scoff not expecting her to answer so straightforwardly. "You really didn’t contact anyone?"

"My mother talked to me, and I kept my contact with Mellissa... Dad..." she sighed and looked in the distance. "He never liked to see me. I had to beg him to attend my mother’s funeral..."

"What happened to Mel was terrible. It shouldn’t have happened..." he bowed his head and fiddled with his fingers.

Marcella obsesrved him. He appeared to be affected by Mellissa’s death.

"The cops are not finding out who did it. Can’t your bureau take charge? It was a brutal murder of a young mother. Wasn’t that enough~"

"She was a mobster’s daughter, Marcella, tough luck..." John sighed. "Tough luck to you too in case something bad happens to you. You are on your own."

What an asshole!

Marcella looked at him.

Mobster’s daughter? How long will they be remembered as such? Wasn’t Mellissa married to an influential family in the city? Was that not enough to wipe her slate clean and to not be referred as a mobster’s daughter?

And this comes from the mouth of the man who claimed to love her sister in the past. He said he will do anything for her. Good thing her father split them up! What a coward!

Marcella fisted her hands.

His eyes were focused on her but she didn’t see concern in them. FBI, huh? Screw them!

Those who are in "law enforcement" are worse than politicians anyway. Screw all of them.

"Hey, Marcella," he placed his hand on her shoulder. "I have this... You were the best shooter in our school. I remember the principal asking you to participate in competitions but you~"

"It was a long time ago, Emerson," Marcella interjected him. She hid the rage bubbling in her heart with a gentle smile.

In a way, he was not wrong. She is a mobster’s daughter—a very successful mobster’s daughter. And she is getting humiliated for that.

She would bow her head and accept it if her father was an awful person. He was not. He was a good man. She couldn’t accept everyone trashing him as if he was some sewer rat crawling in the subway lines.

"No, no, you don’t understand... How about having a go at our gun range?"

"Really?" Marcella’s eyes widened. "Are us plebs allowed in your training range?" she asked.

She wanted to ask him why he wanted to spend time with a "mobster’s daughter" and that too in his sacred FBI gun range. But she didn’t think the meeting was accidental. Everyone thought she was naïve to not know what her father did. She was to some extent but she was nothing but naïve. She pretends to be one when it suits her.

Her lady-like facial features help her give an unassuming innocent look.

"I knew you’d like it," John smiled seeing her smile. "I’ll make the arrangements. Wednesday, at six in the evening, dinner afterwards. What do you say?"

"I’ll confirm it on Tuesday," Marcella smiled.

"Ah, yes..." John quickly passed her his card. It had his name and his phone number. She wondered if he already had a desk if he had his own phone number. He must be in a high position in the bureau if that was the case.

To rise that high when he is just thirty... something must be going on.

Is there nepotism involved? She recalled Emerson’s uncle being a decorated war hero. But miliary is different from the FBI. Or is it?

What would she know?

"We’re here," Marcella stopped in front of the apartment building. "Thanks for carrying my bags," she got the bags. "Bye."

"I’ll be waiting for your call on Tuesday," John shouted behind her.

Marcella turned and smiled before walking inside the building.

The moment his back turned; her smile vanished. She climbed the stairs and before she knocked on the door, Tony opened it for her.

She let out a sigh and placed the bags on the dining table.

"What did he want?" Tony asked.

"I think he’s on to something..."

Tony saw the perspiration on her forehead. He poured her a glass of water and offered it to her.

"He wants a date with me," she said.

Tony raised his brows. "Date?"

Marcella shrugged. "After calling me a mobster’s daughter and telling me that my sister’s death is not worth an investigation... after telling me that I am on my own... he... Tony, I don’t think it’s accidental he met me today. He must know that I am married to you. Why did he talk about dinner with him? And no mention of you..."

"It was not an accident," Tony agreed.

"Could he be investigating you, Tony? You are planning on running and... Emerson... Who got him in? He was not that smart as I recall," She asked.

Tony shook his head. "He is particularly smart at certain things, I’ve heard. He used to investigate drug cartels and I heard he was recently transferred. He must have gotten close to something he mustn’t have..."

"He is on his own then?" Marcella asked. She passed him the business card he left with her.

Tony took a look at his card. "They must have promoted him to shut him up."

Marcella rubbed her lips. "I am sick of referred as a mobster’s daughter, Tony. I’m sick of it," she buried her head in her hands.

She was in a pretty good mood and all got ruined by that guy.

"Are you going to meet him?" Tony asked.