All Chapters of 60 Days Before the Apocalypse,I Divorced My Cheating Husband: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Nobody in the Vitale family wanted to cook. Giada had done it for four years, Teresa's hands had forgotten how, and the thought of a frozen pizza after such a glorious evening seemed an insult to their coming fortune."We're going to a real restaurant," Teresa announced as the family crowded back into Enzo's car, with Matteo yawning in her lap. "A man who will soon have millions should not eat toast.""Bellavista, on Harbor Street." Enzo started the engine, still flushed from the fight at the gate. "Steaks, white tablecloths, the works."None of them had ever set foot inside, and it showed from the moment the host led them to a corner table under a crystal lamp. Sal stared at the heavy silverware as if it might bite, and Teresa lowered her voice to a hiss when she opened the menu."Forty two dollars for a plate of noodles?" She pressed her glasses higher, scandalized. "Who pays that?""People with money, Mama." Enzo waved a hand, grinning like a man already holding the check. "And in a

Halfway through the steak, Giada dabbed her lips and slid her chair back from the table."Order the chocolate soufflé for us," she told Helen with a lazy smile. "I'll be back before it falls."The restrooms lay down a narrow hall behind the wine cellar, and she had barely reached the door when a hand slapped the wall beside her head."Not so fast." Enzo planted himself in her path, his chest still heaving, his tie crooked. "We aren't finished talking.""Oh, Enzo." Giada glanced at his hand, then at his face, and let out a tired little sigh. "Your lawyer would have a stroke if he saw this.""My lawyer isn't here, and neither is yours." He leaned closer and lowered his voice into a hiss. "You planned all of it, didn't you? The restaurant, the table next to ours, the oysters, the lobster, every bit of it, so you could rub our faces in it.""You picked the restaurant, darling. I only picked the seat." Her eyes crinkled, bright with mockery. "Did you think I was following you, or were you h

Enzo came back to the world with a wet paper towel on his forehead and a stranger's voice shouting in his ear."Sir, can you tell me your name? Sir, stay with me." The dispatcher's voice crackled from the phone in Martin's hand. "Is he breathing?""He's breathing, and he's drooling on my carpet." Martin pressed the phone to his chest and peered down at him with a mix of fear and disgust. "Enzo, do you know where you are?""In your office." Enzo pushed himself up on one elbow, his head spinning like a washing machine. "How long was I out?""About forty seconds." Martin lifted the phone again, his voice flat and tired. "False alarm, ma'am, he only fainted. Please cancel the ambulance.""Forty seconds?" Enzo accepted a cup of water from the receptionist and gulped it down, his hand shaking. "I had a dream that she had thirty nine million dollars.""That wasn't a dream, and she doesn't have thirty nine." Martin helped him into a chair and sat on the edge of the desk. "She has more, and tha

Enzo woke on the porch boards with his cheek stuck to a puddle of spilled wine, and the first thing he heard was laughter."Twenty million dollars!" A man on the sidewalk howled and slapped his knee. "I should have asked for a loan before he tripped over his own mouth.""Walt, hush." Mrs. Palmer tugged her husband's sleeve, but her shoulders were shaking, and the plate of cookies she had brought was already tucked back under her arm. "I left the stove on, and we should go.""You didn't leave anything on, Barbara." Walt wiped his eyes with a handkerchief. "You just want to tell Linda before she hears it from somebody else."One by one the neighbors drifted off the lawn, whispering behind their hands, and the crowd that had lifted Teresa like a queen an hour earlier now stepped around her as if she were a puddle. Two teenagers across the street held up their phones, and a boy of about fifteen shouted a joke that made the whole sidewalk burst out laughing."Palace for the Vitales!" He cup

Giada woke with every muscle in her body protesting, and she lay in the soft penthouse bed for a full minute before she dared to sit up."Ow." She groaned at the ceiling and swung her legs over the edge, moving like a woman of ninety. "Brooke Sullivan, I will remember this."She limped to the kitchen, made a cup of black coffee, and opened the trading app on her phone with a thumb that hardly worked. The screen lit up in bright green, and a slow, wicked smile crept over her face as she read the number at the top.Her phone rang before she could finish her second sip, and the name on it was Neil Foster, the broker who handled the handful of stocks she remembered from her old life."Good morning, Ms. Vitale." His voice was breathless and bright, the voice of a man who had been up since dawn. "Have you seen your account?""I'm looking at it right now, and I'm trying not to purr." She leaned on the counter, grinning into her cup. "How much did I make while I slept?""One point five millio