Page 64 of Ruthless Mafia Daddy

“Get me on the phone with the hiring officer in charge of the interviews and connect the cameras in the interview room to my office. I want to see and hear everything going on there.” I ordered, not taking my eyes off the screen.

He turned back to me in a flash with a phone in hand. “I’ve got him.”

“A hazel-eyed brunette in a red dress will be coming for an interview any moment from now. You will hire her. I’m going to make a minor adjustment to the hiring clause. Make sure she signs it before she leaves your office.”

“Alright, Sir.”

The response was swift and devoid of questions. I made my way out of the IT room, taking my private elevator to eliminate every chance of bumping into her. Finally, in my office, I shut the blinds, pacing the room as I tried to digest what I had just seen.

I had moved on, there was no doubt about that. I had picked myself from the crevices of hell where she dumped me, dusted off the ashes, and reclaimed my throne like a fucking phoenix. I had bottled up everything about her and disposed of it in a hole so far away I wouldn’t be able to find it if I tried. I was prepared for Henry and any of his rodents to rear their ugly heads again. What I wasn’t prepared for was running into her after three years. In fucking Milan.

Rage clouded my vision, and I curled my fingers into a fist to keep me from breaking something. I should let her go. If there was one thing I’ve come to know, it was that nothing good ever comes from the appearance of Cara Kincaid in a red dress, but I couldn’t.

I felt the pain and unresolved anger from three years ago resurface, and the anger burned like it was just yesterday that she betrayed me. I finally had the chance to return the favor and get answers to questions I never asked, and I wasn’t going to let logic or reason take that away from me.

Our first meeting was on her terms. She was the one who decided how and where we met. She held the steering wheeland called the shots while I was the unassuming passenger. This time around, I would hold the wheels, and unlike her, I wouldn’t resort to deceitful tactics. She’ll know I hold the wheels, she’ll know I call the shots, and there'll be nothing she can do about it. I will give her a taste of her own medicine.

My screen finally came on, and the image of her settling into the seat flooded my monitor. Getting a closer look at her, she looked very different from the woman I used to know, and I wasn’t speaking of the hair and eye color. Her aura was different. She didn’t possess the radiant glow that seemed to be perpetually stuck on her. Her nails were undone, her face was bare of makeup, and her shoulders were slightly hunched. It was probably a disguise for the next unsuspecting victim.

I had Enzo dig up everything on her using her real name and discovered she had been working as a spy for the longest time and had been the secret behind the fall of some of New York’s most influential figures. She must’ve expanded her business to Italy after disappearing, and it was smart of her to pick a brunette. Italians seemed to prefer their women with brown curls in place of the straight blonde hair that ruled America.

“Cara Kincaid.” She said in that breathy tone that used to send thrills of pleasure through me. The thrills were still present, but now, they were born from hate and not desire. At least she had the decency to be honest about her name.

The interview continued with the boring routine questions, and I strained my ears for anything of importance, anything that could prove useful to me in the future.

“I was in an accident, and my spine was injured. It took a while for me to fully recover.”

I let out a dry laugh at her answer to why her resume was devoid of job experience. Everything about her was different as I watched from a new perspective. How she lied with the same ease she breathed. She even had a doctor’s report to back up her lie. No wonder she got away with so much.

I watched the interview with rapt attention, and the joy that lit up her face when she learned she was hired was almost so genuine I would’ve been convinced she genuinely needed the job, but I knew better. She was just a wonderful actress, a fucking green snake in a green grass. In the same way, I knew she had no use for the job and could retire to an island and live a life of luxury with the amount of money she had accumulated and that brought me back to the central question, why was she here?

The officer finally pulled out the document, and I held my breath as she skimmed the paper. She was a smart girl, but I hoped the clause was disguised enough to escape her eyes. Without so much attention, she picked up a pen and signed the paper, and a sinister smile of satisfaction took over my face. Truly, what goes around did come around. There was no difference between her and the piece of paper I held in my palms, and I had the intention of crushing her the same way I crushed the paper and threw it into my waste bin.

I waited till the interview was over before making my way to the elevator. I had no time to play cat and mouse with her. I was going to let her know what she just walked into immediately and enjoy the look on her face when she realized the tables had turned.

******

“That’s not quite the reunion look I was expecting, Princess,” I smirked as I stepped into the elevator.

She looked pale and frozen in place, like she just saw a ghost, and I reveled in the feeling of satisfaction it brought me.

“I don’t get a kiss? Not even a tiny hug?” I pouted, watching as she took a step back with every step I took forward.

“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have come if I knew you worked here.” She muttered, immediately tucking her emotions away and regaining her composure. She was struggling, and I could see a few cracks in her facade.

“Work here? With your success rate at spying, one would think you would do your homework before stepping into an establishment,” I said, and her eyes widened a minor fraction, realization dawning on her.

“In that case, I’ll tender my resignation first thing tomorrow morning, and you’ll never have to see me again,” she said in a calm, robotic voice, and I felt my anger flare.

She walked into my life and almost wrecked it, and she had the nerve to look calm and speak to me like she had no clue what she had done.

“On the contrary, I actually like you working here,” I replied, my initial playful tone replaced with venom.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mikhail,” she reasoned, and I felt my skin bristle at the sound of my name rolling off her tongue.

“You’re not exactly in the position to negotiate, Princess.”

“You can’t force me to work for you.”

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