Page 17 of Ruthless Mafia Daddy

“And who is she?” He asked, not moving from his spot on the wall.

“Arielle.” That was the only answer I could give.

Sensing my unwillingness to talk about her, he redirected his attention to the body on the floor. “What do we do with him?”

“Find his address, gather everything information about him, and see if you can find the burner he spoke about,” I ordered, making my way to the bathroom.

“And Enzo,” I paused midway. “If he has any surviving family, old, young, infant, dying, close, or distant, I want them dead. I want anything that shares DNA with him wiped off this earth.

CHAPTER 7

Arielle

A cold feeling settled in the pit of my stomach as I watched as the steam from my coffee mug slowly disappeared into the thin air till there was none left. I used to imagine myself as a magician when I was younger, muttering gibberish at the steam from my teacup and smoke from the chimney, hoping it would take the shape of whatever I willed it to. Some days, it was a chocolate bar. Other days, it was a rabbit. There were times I tried to convince myself I saw a distinct shape form and even tried to convince the other kids to see it with me.

Sometimes, they complied. Other times, they told me I wasn’t Harry Potter, and the steam was not changing. This time, I didn’t need my imagination, and I didn’t need to convince someone to tell me they could see the steam from my mug taking shape. It had an angular jawline, cheekbones sharp enough to slice through paper, and dark onyx eyes. The image of Mikhail squeezing the life out of that man’s neck still haunted me. I wasn’t shocked by any means. I’ve witnessed my fair share of murders and partaken in some, but this was something else.

It wasn’t the way he battered the man’s face that horrified me, nor was it his blood-covered face and suit. It was the way he forced the man’s eyes on him, staring deep into his soul till his movements finally slowed to a stop, and his body lay limp. Eventhen, he did not stop. He squeezed and squeezed till an audible crack echoed throughout the room, and my gasp was both planned and instantaneous.

If I quietly left without a word, his men would inform him I came around, and he’d figure out what happened. I had to make myself known somehow and leave before he could get to me. It was the only way I could use the situation to my advantage. Anything else might’ve raised his brows in the wrong direction.

Letting out a soft sigh, I picked up my mug and made my way to the kitchen, emptying its contents in the sink, and fixed myself a new cup. I hate the taste of cold coffee more than anything. I don’t know how people were able to stomach iced coffee. Beverages should be warm or hot, in my opinion.

The digital clock above my cooker read 11:11 a.m. I had five hours till it was time for my dinner date with Julia, and I wasn’t going to miss it for shit. My new project had taken up most of my time, and I ended up missing her wedding. I felt incredibly bad when she sent me a voice recording saying she would’ve loved for me to give a little speech at the reception since I was there from the start of her relationship to the proposal and, finally, the wedding. I proposed a dinner date when she got back from her honeymoon to properly apologize and explain why I couldn’t be there.

My excuse wasn’t going to be any different from the one I’ve been giving our whole time in college. I was only going to decorate this with a wedding gift and hope it eases her pain. While there were certain liberties and privacy that came with living a double life, the constant secrecy begins to weigh on you, and you start struggling to maintain the balance. There were so many events I had missed in college, alongside importantmoments I had missed in the lives of my friends because I had a different life that sometimes required a little too much effort.

Father also made sure we all went to different universities, with me being the only one in New York. He said it would help us socialize and form better connections with the outside world instead of just holding on to each other, but what difference did it make if you were barely around? All they knew was the sob story I fed them about how my mother left when I was young, and my father was terminally ill and required a lot of care. So, whenever I said I had to go see my father, I could see the look of pity and concern forming in their eyes.

It pained me to lie to them, but I understood how important my job was. Father said to think of it as my little way of protecting them and being their guardian angel because the criminal I fail to put away today might be the cause of a loved one's death tomorrow. It was a fair point, but sometimes I just wished I was a regular girl without the responsibility of protecting others. I grabbed my mug, making a mental note to not let it cool while I opened my laptop and went over my next line of action with Vivian.

I opted to speak over the phone so I could get the time to see Julia. It was honestly the least I could do considering the situation. Her suggestions were the same as what I had in mind: avoid Mikhail at all costs and fall off his radar. Basically, everything a regular girl would do after witnessing such a scene and let him come to me. It could be to threaten me to silence me. It could be to talk things through.

My money was on the first option, and that was the scenario I prepared for. It was very unlikely for a man like Mikhail to be interested in talking things through. He did try to come after meafter he saw me watching, and he could’ve sent his guards after me when I tried to leave if he needed to silence me. Father didn’t feel the same about our new plan and was still on my neck again about progress, and my patience was wearing thin with every new demand.

He has been extremely anxious since he saw the details of the cargo Mikhail was expecting, and now he wants me to do everything within my power to find out every detail about it. I was slowly getting a headache from rehearsing the situation. I slammed my laptop shut and decided to occupy myself with preparing for my dinner with Julia.

Spending some time with someone who was neither a target nor a member of my family was exactly what I needed and would go a long way to refreshing my mind and readying me for the next hurdle. It’s why I bothered making friends in college—to have regular folks who reminded me how to live and not lose my humanity with all the evil I saw in my work.

*****

“Marital glow sure looks great on you,” I said as Julia walked towards me. I had picked out a cozy, high-end restaurant in Hudson. I wanted to treat Julia while at the same time making sure I kept my distance from Manhattan. A blush the shade of her crimson bodycon crept to her face, and a sheepish grin appeared on mine. I couldn’t wait to hear about her travels and her time with her husband.

I’ve always thought marriages to be beautiful and would love to start a family of my own after I’ve retired from my job. But till then, I’ll love voraciously through my many friends.

“You would’ve known all about this marital glow if you maintained contact.”

And there we go. She didn’t even wait to settle into her seat before berating me.

“Don’t I get a hug?” I pouted as I watched her slip into her chair. With a heavy sigh, she got up and pulled me into a bone-crushing. “You’re lucky I love you so much.”

Her little admission tugged at my heart. I cleared my throat, dissolving the tight ball of feelings that had formed. “I love you too, babe.”

“Good.” She released me and settled into her seat. “My apology, let me hear it. And,” she lifted a finger, silencing my next words, “It better be worth it, else I’ll hop on this table and tell the world about how you abandoned me.”

I had no doubt in her ability to do that. Julia was like a bright ball of sun and wore her bubbly, crazy personality like a badge of honor.

“First,” I lifted the wrapped gift I kept under the table and handed it to her. “Happy married life.”

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