Page 19 of Ruthless Mafia Daddy

“Not now, Cynthia.”

“But your meeting—”

“Cancel it.” I gave her a pointed look, and she left without another word of protest. At the center of my frustration was a blonde with blue eyes and feline features. I finally gave up on leaving my chances to fate and had Cynthia find out which office she worked in, and they said she had not been at work in four days. I realized that in all the times I’ve spent with this woman, I’ve been so immersed in the moment I forgot to take her number.

And even if I did get it somehow, I doubt she’d be willing to talk to me. She clearly wanted to avoid me, and she wanted it bad enough to put her job in jeopardy to put ample distance between us. I could hardly fault her. I wondered what she must’ve felt when she saw me covered in blood and strangling a man to death. She already looked at me like I was a monster. That much was pretty evident in the way her eyes widened, and she took a few steps backward before bolting.

I shook my head in an attempt to dissolve the look in her eyes that’s been burned to my brain and failed woefully. Haunted blue eyes have followed me wherever I went. We were almost making progress. I invited her to the club to change her mind about my establishment, and I just had to make things muchworse. The man who groped her weeks ago probably appeared like a saint with a glowing halo in comparison to me.

Growing suddenly tired of waiting around for people to bring me half-assed results, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I grabbed my jacket and texted Enzo to prepare for me. He was the only one who could help with the situation.

“Cancel everything in my schedule for today and tomorrow,” I said to Cynthia on my way out of my office. I had more pressing issues to attend, and the others could wait.

“At this rate, I should probably demand to be added to your payroll,” Enzo said as I walked into his house.

I never quite understood the use of a home that was practically glass. Sure, it worked with clubs and boutiques, but who wanted to be watched 24/7? In his defense, the walls were very high, and the glass was bulletproof and could be dimmed, but even that did not sell me. I swear, sometimes, I’m convinced the idiot had a mental disorder.

“When you’re ready, you can send your CV to Cynthia. Be sure to sneak in your position as my bitch to widen your chances,” I replied as I sank into his sofa, the only good thing about his showcase of a house.

“What was so urgent you had to leave your office?” He handed me a glass of whiskey, watching me like a hawk.

I found myself unnaturally reluctant to divulge the details of my relationship—if it could be called that— with Arielle to him. I was yet to understand what I felt for her. I just knew it was a feeling that made me want to absorb her into my veins.

“Those idiots are yet to find him,” I replied, stalling. I’ll come around it, I just needed to ease into it.

He chuckled, crossing one leg over the other, “Would you want me to look into it myself?”

“No. You have more important things to attend to.” I waved him off. “And I don’t pay them to sit on their asses. They’ll find him.”

We fell into a comfortable silence with Enzo on his phone and my head thrown over the backrest of the sofa.

“There’s someone I want you to find.” I finally broke the silence, my voice calm and steady, not lifting my head from the sofa.

I could feel Enzo’s attention on me as he let out a slow “Who is he?”

“She.” I corrected, lifting my head off the backrest.

A knowing look crossed his eyes before he stood to grab his laptop from the corner of the living room. I gave up figuring out how many laptops he had and how he managed to always materialize one immediately a long time ago. You could be in the wilderness starving and thirsty, and Enzo would still manage to pull out a laptop from the thin air if the need arose.

“And does this mystery woman have a name?” he locked eyes with me.

“Arielle. Arielle Hemsworth.” I rasped out. Even her name made me breathless.

“Does Arielle Hemsworth happen to be the gasping blonde bombshell at the club the other night?” He asked, his handsworking the keyboard at a speed my eyes struggled to keep up with.

I nodded wordlessly, and his lips curled in amusement. “You have something to say, Moretti?”

“Not at all. I just never thought I’d see the day almighty Mikhail Ivanov would be tracking a woman down. Whatever happened to women being the dispensable and unnecessary investment?” his eyebrow raised in question.

“It’s not the same. She is—” I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words.

“Different, special, rode you into a fourth dimension, and now you don’t want her to hop off?” His amusement deepened.

“Interesting. She’s interesting.” That was the perfect word to describe her. While she did set my loins ablaze and turn my blood molten, she was the most slightly intriguing woman I’ve ever met, and that’s what stood out about her.

“Well. Here we go, your interesting Arielle.” His amusement slowly faded and was replaced with knitted brows as he took in the information on his screen.

“Everything okay?” I asked, shifting to the tip of the sofa.

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