CHAPTER SEVENTY TWO – GUT FEELINGS

A cold sweat broke out across Joan's brow as a torrent of suspicion and doubt came crashing down on the warm afterglow of the previous night's passion. Who was this mysterious texter? How long had they been communicating behind her back? Was last night just a desperate attempt at misdirection on Vito's part? No...no, she couldn't let her mind follow that dark path of paranoia and mistrust. Not without concrete proof. Maybe there was a perfectly reasonable explanation - a wrong number situation or a spam bot, even. Joan knew in her heart that Vito adored her. The way he had worshipped every inch of her body mere hours ago could not have been faked. Could it? She glanced over at the sprawled, slumbering form of her lover, his chiseled features now clouded by a veil of insecurity. was she really considering the possibility that this wonderful man was...unfaithful? Swallowing hard against the lump In her throat, Joan abandoned his phone on the dresser and hurried to get dressed, deter