Page 10 of Ruthless Mafia Daddy

“Then get to it.”

He heaved a sigh, shaking his head in what I hoped, for his safety, was not disappointment.

“We’ve cleared the container at the Porte of Triste. It remained untouched and sealed as you requested, and it should be in Russia in a month.” He said, handing me a file containingextensive details of the shipment and a picture of its current state as it left the port.

Enzo had majored in software and cybersecurity in college while I took up business. In the course of our friendship, he had come to be the head of my security team, and it was safe to say I trusted him with my life.

“This is the last security check it’ll be going through before it arrives at the port?” I queried, going over the file.

“Yes. I’ve also alerted the team in Russia to keep an eye out for it to prevent it from getting into the wrong hands.”

“Good,” I muttered, not taking my eyes off the files.

There was no such thing as wrong hands once the cargo got to Russia. The port was a family business, and no one would touch a thing unless I gave the order, not even the government officials.

“That settles it then,” He said, getting on his feet.“Will you be showing up on Friday?”

“What is happening on Friday?”

He gave me a ridiculous look before answering, “A fundraiser in your name, where some of your accumulated artworks would be auctioned off for charity. You signed the agreement months ago.”

The mention of the word “art” brought my thoughts to a screeching halt, and only one name echoed in my head—Arielle.

It’s been a week since my night with her, and there was no night I hadn’t gone to bed without the image of her writhing on mysheets, replaying in my head. That was the longest a woman had stayed in my head. I tend to forget these experiences once they are over, and if I needed a repeat for any reason, I made sure not to involve the same girl.

Simply put, I didn’t fuck the same girl twice, but here I was, wanting the same girl again.

My time with Arielle was the only time I’ve felt inclined to go for a second round in one night. She had me totally knocked out like a teenage boy after his first time. It was honestly the best sleep I’ve had in a long time—long, rejuvenating, and peaceful. I found myself oddly anticipating one last round before she left at dawn. Imagine my shock when I woke up to a pillow clutched in my arms and an empty house. She vanished like she was never there, taking every bit of her and leaving me with memories.

It was the most unexpected turn of events. I was used to women finding every excuse in the book to stick around, but Arielle was different. She left. She didn’t try to stay, didn’t even wait for me to wake up, for breakfast, or for any form of compensation for her time. And while I was very confident in my sexual prowess, I found myself wondering if she didn’t have a great time. One night with this woman, and I am left with so many questions and an insatiable hunger for more.

I even tried searching for her. I asked my doorman and the bouncers at the club, but she was like a ghost only I had seen, and that infuriated me the most. And now, the door of opportunity finally opened right in front of me.

“Get me my secretary on your way out,” I called to Enzo who raised his middle finger to me on his way out.

My door opened shortly after Enzo left, and Cynthia, my secretary, walked in, arms clasped behind her. “You sent for me, Sir,” she said, standing in front of me like a statue.

“Yes, Cynthia. Call the charity in charge of the art exhibit, ask them to contact an artist, Xavier. Buy out his collection, old and new for the fundraiser and get him to make a public statement about it before Friday.” I said, scrolling through the artist’s page. He was surprisingly good.

“Yes, Sir,” She answered and left the office.

I couldn’t remember the last time I put effort into a woman. I have always considered them a tasking investment with very low returns and only indulged when necessary.

Arielle had sparked a curiosity in me, and I intend to see it to the end.

***

Friday rolled by in no time, and I found myself bathed in the reflections bouncing off New York’s glass house. The structure was effortlessly one of the few modern structures I appreciated in the city. I especially loved how the floors and ceilings vanished at night, becoming replaced by the reflections of the world around them. The perfect mirror, giving back to the world whatever it threw at it while revealing nothing of what was inside.

The auction was already in full swing when I walked in with Xavier giving a brief history on the piece that was currently up for bidding.

“Ivanov!” a burly-looking man sporting a low bun made his way towards me as soon as I stepped into the bidding area.

“I saw the news. Congratulations on your latest acquisition.” He beamed, holding out his arm for a shake.

“Thank you, Carter,” I replied dryly, not attempting to take his hand.

This was my worst part of societal events, the socializing. Why couldn’t people attend an event and mind their business the whole time? Carter eventually got the message and was out of my sight soon enough. Our little exchange did a marvelous job keeping more people away from me.

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