Page 61 of Ruthless Mafia Daddy

She wanted me to remember her. She didn’t want to disappear completely; she wanted to guarantee that I did not gaslight myself into believing she was not real.

And she won.

I didn’t plan to end up like this. When I searched for her and couldn’t find her, I threw myself into my work, drowning myself in business, but it became evident by the time I snapped at Cynthia and broke a man’s shoulder for asking about Arielle that I was neither fit to work nor be seen in public spaces, so I retired to my home. Enzo and Benjamin had to step in my absence.

I got a therapist, as Enzo requested. I tried talking, but it wasn’t fixing anything. It only reminded me of how foolish I had been, how blind I was. What would my grandfather say if he could see me?

I uncorked my new bottle and tossed back another swig. I didn’t like the cold feeling and emptiness that settled over me when I wasn’t drinking. It felt a little too familiar to death.

Eventually, I was asked to pick up a sport to serve as an outlet for my anger. Naturally, I picked boxing and was kicked out on my second day because I punched the lights out of someone and didn’t stop. I didn’t understand my offense, to be honest. It was supposed to be a place where people let out their anger. Surely, no one came there hoping to be pampered.

Anyway, I finally settled for nursing a bottle or two at home while watching the news and hoping to hear of people with livesworse than mine. It didn’t change much, but it helped to know I wasn’t suffering alone.

Some nights I woke up in so much pain, I had to scream till I felt better. I hated it, I hated her, and I hated myself the most. I wished it were a physical pain, broken ribs, or a cracked skull. That would be easier to deal with, but this, I didn’t know what to do with it. I couldn’t even tell where it hurt.

Maya tried to talk me out of the situation. She didn’t know the details of what happened, but she knew there was no Arielle, or should I say, Cara, and my pain was as a result of her absence.

She finally grew tired of me ignoring her and settled for coming around twice a week to clean and stock up the house. She was honestly the reason this house had not fallen apart.

A thought suddenly hit me. I should sell the house. Yes! Every part of it reeked of Arielle. I had fucked her on every surface, and we’d danced on every fucking tile. It’s the only reason I was this miserable. I wasn’t a weak man. It was certainly the house.

Grandma always told stories of how cursed energies never really went away and tended to linger in their previous home until an exorcism was performed. I sure as hell didn’t have the time for an exorcism, but I did have the money for a new house. We’d just add ‘haunted by Arielle Cara Hemsworth Kincaid’ to the selling clause, and everything would be dandy.

I stumbled to my feet, making for the library to find the documents. This was only heartbreak. It happened to people every day, and they got over it. I will get over it, but first, I need to get rid of her.

But will that fix the lies? A small voice in my head whispered, and I was back to square one. It wasn’t just about the heartbreak. I was certain if she had broken up with me, I’d suffer, but not this much.

It was the lies, the deception, the betrayal. She lay next to me, saying she loved me while she destroyed every part of me, brick by brick. Her words about wanting to know my world so she could love me better were all lies! Lies from the burning pit of hell, and that’s what hurt the most. I was mourning a ghost, something that didn’t even exist.

I had done everything right. I changed in ways I could. I bought the flowers, I opened the doors, I communicated, I committed, I bought the fucking ring, and where did that end me?

A sad chuckle echoed through the house as I made my way to the library, still determined to sell the house. I vaguely registered the sound of the front door opening. It was obviously Enzo. He came here every two days to give me shit about my life and try to clear out the alcohol. Too bad he couldn’t clear out the ones in the stores.

“Mikhail!” His voice vibrated angrily across the whole house, but I didn’t reply, continuing my journey to the library. I knocked down a glass vase next to me, a string of curses spewing from my lips as I tried to tiptoe around the broken glass. These people didn’t even make the glasses strong anymore. Everything was as fake as Arielle.

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Not yet, but I’m on it,” I replied, successively making it to the other end without stepping on the glass.

Enzo stormed after me, a Manila envelope tucked in his arms. He seemed to carry those everywhere lately.

“The market cap of your joint company has fallen by two hundred million dollars,” he stated, dumping the first envelope on the table once we were inside the library. “Benjamin says the family needs a better Don, and Kincaid is still out there, fighting your ancestor’s sweat, and you’re here wasting away because some girl turned out to be something other than what you wanted her to be,” he hissed, dumping the second file on top of the first.

I stared at the documents, the weight of his words slowly settling into me. I knew things were slowly going bad, and I kept telling myself I just needed some time to fix myself and get over it, but hearing the numbers spelled out to me was quite the wake-up call.

“It’d be better if you were shot dead or even kidnapped than for this to be how you end,” Enzo continued, “at the mercy of a woman who doesn’t give a flying fuck about you.”

His words had a bitter aftertaste, and if it were anyone else, I would’ve made them eat their words.

“So, I’ve brought them to you. You can watch your blood and sweat and that of your fathers go to waste for a woman,” he said and stormed out of the library. The angry sound of his footsteps echoed through the house, and finally, a distant bang from the front door followed. Silence settled over the house.

I stared at the files for a while before putting down my liquor and picking them up. Everything was either red, shifting to the left or reading in minus. Some of the deals I had just closed acrossEurope were sending in queries, and they did not want to work with anyone that wasn’t the CEO.

Enzo had underestimated the situation of things. There were also few records of Kincaid’s way about, but he has been unnaturally silent. He must know I’ve found him out. Overall, everything was horrible.

Arielle might’ve broken my heart and trust, but this was my doing. I was breaking myself. I was breaking a legacy I fought through blood and sweat to build, and all for what?

CHAPTER 27

---