Hey Loves,

Here's the eighteenth installation.

Birthday chapter yo! Haha.

Yes, it's Ada's POV but so what? Life doesn't always go as planned. Deal with it!

ENJOY!!! XD

Please

Stay Remarkable Loves!!!!

As a side-note, I know I'm late to the game but as the saying goes, better late than never. Due to the sexual content expressed in chapters 19 through 21 of Italian Coffee House, those chapters will be made private and any such chapter thereafter. All private chapters are viewable only to followers. This is a precautionary measure to protect Italian Coffee House from any bans or removal altogether. Thank you for your observation and patience.

Thanks for all your support. XD

xoxoxoxoxo.

- Ang

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Niccolo's Chocolate House

Chapter 1

*Dari*

It's Monday, one week and two days after my wedding. It's been precisely nine days since I became known as Adaramola Casimiro and I have a marriage certificate to prove it. Yet, I fear that my husband has already lost his interest in me and why shouldn't he. I was just as guilty as he was.

I had ignored my growing attractions towards the man who had singlehandedly given me hope. Well, not exactly so, I believe that God had orchestrated the entire thing, after all, he was all-powerful and I know any other force wouldn't have been successful in bringing together two people from such drastically different worlds together. Yet, I was still as virginal as the day I brought into this world, but who's counting the days? What's worst? I wasn't exactly sure that it was such a good thing that Niccolò hadn't ruined his own wife.

Niccolò couldn't have been the problem. Men like him didn't have problems. He was enough a walking slap-in-the-face to remind me that my life wasn't a dream so much so that every time I thought of him I had to sit and reclaim my breath. Father forgive me!

The man was downright gorgeous and nothing less. His startling blue eyes, whenever he looked at me, stunned me in place. His thick black hair had become the basis for my study as I imagined threading my fingers through it and became overly obsessed with the topic. His square jaw, which was as defined a man as he, was covered in a day's worth of stubble that imagined brushing over my skin. His thick broad shoulders, I imagined sinking my teeth into. His chiselled chest and abdominals, his capable arms, the feel of him, had been burnt into my memory.

No, Niccolò wasn't the problem. God had taken his time making him so much so that he was the closest thing to perfection that I'd ever seen.

I was the problem. Maybe, he realized what a mistake he'd made marrying me after all. I was nothing short of boring, average, a waste of time and resources as he'd so kindly pointed out mere weeks ago. As typical as they come, there was no challenge to overcome ... no excitement ... no incentive, thrill nor was there any desire to be intimate with me. I was certain that that time had already passed, it must have given his unusually cold disposition.

Maybe the challenge in itself was gathering enough strength to look at me in the morning. I didn't challenge him enough, foster the idealistic hope that should have revolved around a union such as ours, yet I thought that he would want me. How silly can one woman be? Being around Niccolò was like treading on thin ice twenty-four seven and not to mention, earth-shattering.

Just the same, I had no clue what the heck man wanted. He was so unpredictable. At one point, I wondered if his mother had even expected him. Probably not. Not even when her water broke and he was being brought into this world on the delivery table. Yet I thought I had the unique skill set to appreciate and predict his every move? Who was I? Exactly, nobody.

The more pressing matter at hand? Today is also Tionnè's day-off. We had this thing where we would spend the day together when we weren't working, even if that meant she would visit me most of the time. However, we decided on something new today. She understood my plight and adapted that's why Tey was more like a sister than a bestie.

We would joke about what stunts my new husband would pull next and usually had a great laugh about it. However, since he was my husband now, there's only really one thing that she could want to talk about and it was no joking matter to me. I knew she wouldn't believe me if I told her I was still chaste. Who would believe me if I had told them with a demanding husband like mine? Wreaking of charisma and wealth as he did in today's world, he definitely wouldn't run into any problems finding a willing woman to bed, and yet he wouldn't take his wife on such an adventure? I tried to ignore my treacherous thoughts and get back to the real world where there weren't cases of magical tales telling of princes wedding maidens once the proverbial shoe fit. The real world where I'd have to deal with the truth for the rest of my natural existence.

I found an old ankle-length pale denim skirt and a white blouse that fell off my shoulders, pairing them as my outfit for today. I didn't feel like being Mrs. Casimiro today and my old clothes were the closest thing I could get to being me again.

Besides me, only Josie and papa remained in this big ole house at the moment. Krysta had left for school earlier and she had been thoroughly excited to start the new semester while Niccolò went to work as per usual and I was stuck here doing nothing, but not for long.

I made my way down the marbled path to the foyer, intent on seeing my papa before I left. I guessed that he must have been sleeping because it was the case as of late. Josie kept him on a tight schedule which often meant that he was physically spent from doing basic muscle movement exercises which in turn often left him exhausted.

I entered papa's room, careful not to make any sudden movements that would prise him from his sleep. His room was nice with a view of the forest that managed to take my breath away every time I came to visit. The healing powers of nature, I supposed.

It was a while before I noticed Josie reading quietly to herself, a novel by Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre I think. She looked up from her book in the corner of the room, acknowledging my presence with a friendly wave as well as offering a smile briefly before returning to the pages of her latest read.

"One, my heart dost love the light." I allowed my hand to roam briefly near his temple, causing him to stir. Papa taught me to love God and put Him first and all good things would follow me. Careful not to disturb her as well, I moved stealthily across the room to papa's bedside. He looked more at ease every time I saw him and I couldn't help but feel relieved at the revelation.

"Two, the light that guides my heart." My heart, the one thing within my chest which housed emotions. The one thing my papa taught me to guard jealously. Yet, it was on the verge of being crushed ... in limbo ... hanging in the balance, by a thin thread.

"Three, when day turns to night, my heart amongst the shiny stars." Whenever clarity of thought was hampered by doubt, Papa would always tell me to look up call to the heavens ... fret not ... because my help comes from God. I needed all the help I could gather if I was going to survive this.

"I love you, Papa," I kissed him lightly on his forehead.

About thirty minutes and countless sighs later, one of Niccolò's driver's pulled up in front of the bistro and I thanked him before I got out of the car. He left shortly after and I was thankful because I wanted my mind to be void of anything that reminded me of my husband. Alas, there was no way that would be even humanly possible now.

Earlier on, I'd told him to go bide his time however he'd like so long as he didn't mention me to Niccolò. I met Tionnè at one of the tables outside on the patio, she'd ordered two glasses of tropical punch already and was working on finishing the last when I'd arrived.

She dressed fashionably in a black tee and pair of fitted jeans paired with combat boots. As always my best friend was beautiful though she looked to be dressed for a mission of sorts, which ironically reminded me of my situation.

"Hey, partner glad you made it," She smiled, grinning ear to ear while continuing to drain the contents of her glass.

"I wouldn't miss time with you if Channing Tatum was at my door." I giggled and she scoffed.

"I don't know if I agree with you on that babe." Tionnè chuckled and my cheeks grew warm as her meaning dawned on me. "So how is my princess bride doing?"

"She's not doing great," I mumbled before taking the seat beside her. Tey eyed me intently.

"What do you mean?" All humour, gone, vaporized into thin air scary fast, replaced by a solid expression I could only compare to Niccolò's. I had the sudden impression that she may be bipolar.

"What if I made a mistake?" I asked, witnessing as she visibly relaxed despite the eruption raging within me. "What if I did the wrong thing, but for the right reason?"

"Spill, Dee," Tionnè ordered, folding her arms together, leaning forward against the table in piqued interest probably sick of me speaking in riddles.

"There's nothing to spill Tey and that's the problem," I confessed, whispering so that only she heard me, conscious of our surroundings.

"What do you mean nothing happened?" Tionnè's face contorted in confusion and she looked at me like a curious dog with her head tilted to the side.

"We kissed but that's it and sure he's affectionate but I really don't think he wants me like that." Tionnè looked a little sad at my confession.

A waiter suddenly appeared sporting a good-natured smile a notepad and a pencil.

"Do y'all have vodka tonic?" She asked, obviously joking though the guy looked helpless to be put on the spot like that.

"Tey!" I chuckled, winning a wounded look.

"What? Fine, my friend here will have a pineapple smoothie and I'll have another tropical punch, please and thank you." She smiled her thanks before looking my way again.

"You mortified the poor guy," I couldn't help the smile, she managed to put it there despite her dramatic antics at coping with the ills of my love life. Tionnè was the only other person I knew who wanted my best interest at heart so I would cut her some slack.

"So on less depressing matters, how's my best friend doing?" Felt like a long time since we'd been able to talk this, just us girls, sipping on tropical smoothies and filling our faces while we talked about the better things in life, sounds like a dream especially given my recent past.

"I'm contemplating leaving the restaurant, looking for something better." Tionnè looked around before her eyes settled on me again.

"I would expect nothing less," It hurt that she was thinking of leaving but I wanted the best for her. Not just for her to stay afloat but for her to flourish ... to really prosper. If the restaurant was a hindrance, then it deserved to be in her rearview mirror. I just want our friendship to flourish as well no matter where Tey's next endeavour carried her.

The waiter returned with our drinks, placing them on the table just as Stephen appeared out of nowhere and approached our table. Tionnè didn't know about the incident which had occurred the evening of Krysta's birthday and it was a good thing because she might have pounded him into fairy dust.

It was better that she didn't because she may unknowingly remind me of the feelings that I had for him which surprisingly was beginning to fade after he'd almost cost me everything. I stared him dead in the eyes as he pulled a chair, joining us. Stephen was dressed in a plain t-shirt and a pair of black slacks as though he had just worked a shift. He still managed to look irresistible regardless of how hard I tried to put out that fire.

"Hey, ladies," He began, nodding at Tey who began sipping on her third glass. "Adaramola, I haven't seen you at work for a while. I hope everything's ok."

"It's fine," I said simply, acknowledging his ambiguous statement. "How about you? How are you doing?"

"I'm alright," He replied just as Tionnè stood, excusing herself probably to use the bathroom facilities considering she'd been drinking well before I arrived. "Ada, please accept my apology for being such a dumb jerk."

"Please don't call me that," For some reason, it didn't feel right when he said it. Not like it felt when Niccolò did. Not only that but he shouldn't address me that way given that we were already skating on thin ice.

"I'm such an idiot. Could you ever forgive me?" Stephen put his hand on mine and I immediately pulled my hand away just as a knot began to form in my stomach.

I heard the protest of tires skidding across the asphalt, drawing my attention there momentarily before I noticed the hulking man, stalking up the sidewalk. His presence needed no introduction. The flight of steps didn't seem nearly as long as it took him one-quarter of the time to climb the stairs and to make way to us.

"Nice to see you both so cosy at this very special reunion," Niccolò said too calmly. "Boy, don't ever touch my wife again. Leave."

Stephen looked at me with a worried expression. I wondered if they planned this. Their timing seemed to synchronized so well. "NOW!"

His voice was enough to scare the devil himself. Stephen stood in shock, stepping backwards and away from our table without so much as another word. I noticed that the chatter that I'd begun to familiarize myself with had all but died. The sound of a pin dropping would've been like a thunder-clap right now considering how quiet the atmosphere had become.

I felt Niccolò's cold gaze on me and didn't give him the satisfaction of my gaze. I had done nothing wrong though I admit it seemed otherwise. Why did he suddenly care anyway? I was nothing to him. An insignificant stain to be washed from his white sleeve. It didn't matter whether I was a waitress under his payroll or his wife living under his roof, it meant no difference to him. I meant nothing to him.

"Were you going to spread your legs for him, darling?" Niccolò asked accusingly. "A man whispers sweet nothings to you and suddenly you're in the palm of his hand."

Tears began to form in my eyes at his words. Had it been any other time, I may have barely recovered but we were in full view of the entire bistro and I couldn't help that I began to crumble under the embarrassment.

It hurt that he thought so low of me and I couldn't fathom why if he meant nothing to me. It hurt that he made me sound so cheap that I would give away my virtue to anyone who showed me the slightest interest. Forget that he was Niccolò Casimiro, he was my husband and would be known as such, first and forevermore. If that was something a husband said to his wife then I would rather die alone in the cold beastly wilderness of the Himalayas mountains than live another day with this man.

"Maybe you should switch your profession sweetheart or maybe not. Even the oldest profession in the world demands more class about what they're selling." I couldn't help the tears any longer.

His words crushed every cell in my body, unleashing an onslaught of pain and grief that I had managed to keep buried after my mother had abandoned us. When I finally looked into his eyes, I noticed the lonely cold staring back at me.

I stood abruptly, clutching my belongings, moving past him with such haste without offering a word of the defiance, even ignoring him as he called after me.

I left the bistro in a hurry to nowhere in particular just to get away from him. I didn't know how I found the strength to run even when I felt my legs giving way to collapse but somehow I did just that. I ran.

*END of Chapter Eighteen*