How I Ghosted My Mafia Wife
As she moved closer, a mixed scent hit me—cigar smoke, expensive whiskey, and… that damn cheap, woody cologne.
Ryan's scent.
She hadn't even bothered to cover it up. Or maybe she hadn't even noticed it was still on her.
A violent wave of disgust churned in my stomach.
I shoved her away, clapping a hand over my mouth as I bolted for the restroom.
"William? Baby?" Madeline's worried voice followed me.
I knelt before the toilet, retching violently. My stomach was empty, but the bitter bile and uncontrollable rage kept coming.
"What is it? Are you allergic to the seafood?" Madeline knelt beside me, trying to help me up. "Or was it the wine?"
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