Wanda, Icardi's wife, wearing a black lace dress that cost 5000 euros, walked out of the bedroom, just about to ask her husband for some compliments when she heard a loud bang.
The battery scattered like gravel all over the floor, and the remote was smoking.
"Honey, what's wrong?"
Wanda was scared pale, taking two steps back.
Could it be?
Could it be that this guy has found out about my secret intimate conversations with that rapper?
He shouldn't know, I've been very discreet...
It wasn't until Icardi jumped up and pointed at the TV, cursing loudly at the football match, that Wanda's hanging heart was finally put at ease.
Thank goodness, just a little fool who only understands football, haha.
"Oh, what's the name of that driver, how do you pronounce it?"
"Podolski!"
