Unstable

THREE YEARS LATER.

"Mr. President, is it true that your marriage with first lady Elena Vero was fake?"

"Mr. President, the rumor is that she left because you cheated; how true is that?"

"Mr. President, how would you keep this country successful if you can't even keep your home?"

"Mr. President..."

"Mr. President..."

"Mr. President..."

Nico tightened his fist behind the set in front of him, ignoring the microphone so close to his lips, staring at the press before him; he knew they were paid to do what they were doing.

After all, wasn't the next election this year? All of this had Alessandro Salvo written on it; he was the candidate of the opposition party, and ever since Nico was voted into office, Salvo had made it an everyday thing to attack him.

Setting up the press to ask him questions, he found a way out off

"Mr. President, where are you really from?"

And all of this began when he walked out of the room that night and found the note on the signed papers,

I'M SORRY, SIR, ITS BEEN GOOD SO FAR WITH YOU. THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME THE OPPORTUNITY; I PRAY YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL LIFE. ITALY IS IN GOOD HANDS.

ELENA

He hadn't known how to feel, especially when Matteo woke the following day and demanded to see his 'Mama.'' When he brought Alexa forth, Matteo shook his head vigorously and began to cry, "I want my Mama."

That was when he knew he fucked up.

After then, he felt her demise, which was more painful than he ever thought it would be; the house felt cold and empty and too large, and no eyes were smiling up at him when Matteo did or said something funny.

Making it worse was her picture scattered across the room, and each time Matteo stared at it, he began to wail about wanting his mama.

The boy got sick more often than when Elena was around, and Alexa, who couldn't handle all of it, left again, yelling into his face about Elena being the cause of her son not even knowing her.

But how was he to tell her that neglecting the child from when he was in the womb was the reason he didn't give a shit about her?

After Alexa left too, he became a shadow of himself, trying to work things with his son, who kept repeating that he had been wrong again, that was why Mama left him, or that Alexa told Mama he was terrible.

Nico was helpless. And all he could do was hold onto the boy. He then ordered the servant that the photo frames of Elena should be down from the walls.

But Matteo's wails stopped him, so he had made him a locket with the picture of Elena smiling up at him, and even now that the boy was five, he still had it around his neck day in and day out

He had tried to find her, Elena Vero, but it seemed she had disappeared into thin air. It didn't help that she hadn't even left an account number for him to track her with.

One night she had signed the paper and went with his stability leaving him to deal with the shaky aftermath.

"Mr. President, if you didn't divorce Elena Vero, where is she? It's uncommon for a husband not to know where his wife is."

Good thing the citizens loved him overlooking all of this, but he knew one day they too would want to know what all of this was about and demand it, and he will have to give them an answer.

"Mr. President, will you be running for the presidency next year?"

Nico suddenly had enough, but he was calm about it because he knew Matteo would be curled up on the chair watching him, wanting to hear the excuse he would give next.

He tapped the microphone, placed his lips close, and blew on it; when they stared at him wondering what all of that was about, he flashed a winning smile and joked, "Had to do this so you hear me louder this time."

There was a chuckle from the crowd.

Nikolai Rossi then straightened the blue suit and began to speak, "It pains me to say that this has been the only question sent my way since I got into the seat, Mr. President; where is your wife? What about Mr. President? How did you get the Cartels to stay in place in Rome or Mr. President? How did the country's revenue suddenly increase four times as it was?"

No one spoke.

Nikolai forced a chuckle, "Suddenly, my Wife Elena Rossi became a national treasure, Really Convenient."

Another round of laughter.

"Elena is alive and well; Elena is still my wife and will always be. She prefers keeping a low profile," there were a few murmurs among the crowd, he cut in again, "concerning the question of if I'm still running for presidency; yes, yes, I am."

He turned his back on them and left the podium. A black-suited man appeared behind him, speaking in low tones, "Giving them hope like that, Sir, what if we don't find her?"

Then they'll have to fall back to lying, faking her death, then making sure she never showed her face up again, and no, he didn't mean to kill her; he had made a vow against staining his hands with blood while on Seat.

Nico Xavier was left behind when he decided to cut his path.

He meant to hide her, pay her off to get far away. But he hoped, he hoped to get to her before the press did, and she ended up spilling everything.

He was outside now, and the car was opened for him to climb into, which he did. The window wound down a little, which he knew was risky, but he needed the air.

As the car drove away, he placed a finger on the side of his head, massaging the strains, a lot of questions in his head;

Three years ago, when he was thinking of laying her off and even felt relieved the night she left herself, Nico never imagined he'd need her so much that he would be explaining to Matteo day in and out that she still loved him.

Things kept getting complicated.

Hopefully, he found her before it all get messed up.