“I have a class.”
“Can you skip it?” He eyes me pleadingly.
“I’ve missed a lot of classes lately.” My teeth sink into my bottom lip. I want to just sayto hell with itand go with him. But I also don’t want to miss any more school.
“Okay, let’s go to your class first. Then I’ll show you what I want to show you.” He holds out an arm, gesturing for me to walk ahead of him. “Lead the way.”
“You can’t seriously be coming to class with me, Carlo,” I hiss as I walk past him.
He doesn’t let go of my hand. Instead, he matches my steps. “Why not?”
“Because you’re not even a student here.” I sigh. “It’s not allowed.”
“I dare someone to try to tell me I can’t escort my wife to class,” he grunts.
I roll my eyes. Of course no one in their right mind is going to tell Carlo Bianchi what he can and cannot do. “Fine, but you have to be quiet.”
“You won’t hear a word out of me,” he says, zipping his lips with his fingers.
Ten minutes into the lecture, which the TA has started because the professor hasn’t turned up yet, Carlo leans over. His arm wraps around the back of my chair. “Is this actually interesting to you?” he whispers.
“It’s not bad,” I whisper back. “And you’re not supposed to be talking.”
“Right, sorry. Carry on.” Carlo points to the front of the room.
Not long after that, the professor walks in and apologizes for being late.
Carlo straightens in his chair. “That’s your professor?” he asks. “Is he even old enough to be teaching you?”
“Yes, and yes,” I reply.
“I just uploaded the grades for your last paper. Good work. Most of you. As you are all aware, there’s a position open for a spot on a trial with me for one of Nevada’s biggest cases. The person I’m giving that spot to is Miss Marciano. Please come and see me after class.” Professor George looks right at me.
“It’s Mrs. Bianchi,” Carlo growls out loud enough for the entire room to hear.
“I’m sorry? Who are you? You’re not one of my students,” Professor George says to Carlo, who pushes up to his full height. I tug on the arm of his suit jacket, trying to get him to sit back down.
“Carlo Bianchi, her husband,” he says, gesturing to me. “And I’d appreciate you using my wife’s actual name when addressing her.”
“Carlo, sit down,” I hiss under my breath. I can feel the heat on my face. I bet it’s red.
“Right, my apologies, Mr. Bianchi. I didn’t realize. The change hasn’t been submitted to the college,” Professor George says.
Carlo finally sits down. He looks at me. “You haven’t changed your name?”
“I’ve hardly been here,” I remind him. “It’s not a big deal. It’s just a name.”
“It’s a big deal to me.”
“Let’s go.” I pack my books into my bag and storm out of the class. I don’t know if I can ever return after today. Or if I can actually take that spot on the legal team with Professor George.
I don’t wait for Carlo to follow me. I know he will. I stomp out of the building. Carlo catches up without saying a word. He takes hold of my hand and leads me over to the parking lot, where I silently climb into his car when he opens the passenger door for me, all while fuming on the inside.
How dare he come and embarrass me like that! Doesn’t he realize I have to face those people every day? Doesn’t he care that my professor probably thinks so much less of me now? I just let my husband speak for me in front of the entire class. What kind of lawyer will I be if I can’t even speak up in front of my husband?
Chapter Twenty-Three
Antonia is furious at me. I have to control my smile, which isn’t easy. I fucking love it when she’s mad. So does my cock. “What’s wrong?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
