Page 20 of Ruthless Mafia Daddy

“It’s weird,” he said. “She has very little media presence and an almost nonexistent digital footprint.” He said, handing me the laptop.

I carefully perused the information on the screen. It had a passport photo of Arielle with her security number, date of birth, contact, and home address displayed beneath it. What it lacked,however, was an actual presence. Save for a few photos here and there, there was almost nothing to her.

I handed the laptop back to Enzo. “See if you can find anything else.” It was an era of social media and technology. No one could maintain that little internet image. After what felt like hours but was probably thirty minutes went by, Enzo pulled together a few pictures from all her social media handles. There were not collectively up to ten.

It wasn’t a lot. Even I had more pictures, and I barely used social media. Coming to think of it, she has practically been under my nose all these years without me spotting her, and I’ve never seen her pull out a device or take a picture of anything like other women who had a compulsive need to document everything.

She only had a few vacation pictures with friends, some vacation pictures alone, college graduation pictures, and finally, the only one that brought both smile and relief to me, the artwork we argued about at the fundraiser. Admittedly, when Enzo pulled her up with very little information, I felt myself stiffen a bit, but this eased my tension some.

“She’s a really private person,” I said, handing the laptop back to him.

“I see,” was his only reply as his fingers continued tapping.

“Find anything else?” Curiosity had my fingertips tingling, and I would gladly devour anything.

“Attended NYU, graduated with honors, was a straight-A student from the start, and was her set Valedictorian.” Enzo read off the screen. “Basically, she’s a social media shy woman in an era of social media who barely made any posts about foodor places she’s been. There’s no record of exes and previous relationships, just her.”

I paid attention as Enzo read, not knowing if I found her lack of in-depth information unsettling or comforting, but in retrospect, people were allowed their privacy. The lack of previous or current love interests did warm my heart a bit.

“Was there something particular you needed to find?” He asked.

“Just the contact information and home address, and we’ll be good,” I replied, and my phone pinged immediately with the information.

“You sure you don’t need me to keep digging around?” Enzo asked with raised brows.

Arielle wasn’t a suspect. She’s done nothing to be suspected of, but my compulsive need to know everything about a person won.

“Not exactly, but keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary,” I replied, getting on my feet.

“Well, if you’ll be paying Cinderella a visit, I’ll have you know she has a certain preference for art. Since she didn’t leave a shoe behind, you can start from there.” Enzo teased and I sent him a death glare.

“And Mikhail,” he called out on my way out, pausing my hand on the doorknob. “Our suspect is currently hiding out in a motel in Brooklyn. I’ll send you the information.”

I’ve known the idiot for over ten years, and he has never ceased to surprise me with his skills and efficiency.

I sent a nod of gratitude his way and made my way out of his house.

I stared at Arielle’s contact information for the duration of my drive back, and I finally made up my mind. She already saw all there was to be seen, and it honestly saved me the future stress of ever having to explain myself to her. No cops were knocking on my door, so she was either scared shitless or really smart. Either way, the cat was out of the bag, and I’ve decided I am not ready to let her go just yet. I might be after I’ve fucked her a second time or a third, but till then, I’ll see where this gnawing feeling in my loins leads me.

CHAPTER 9

Arielle

“I really think he’s my husband, Ari, I swear!”

“You think every man that’s above six feet and talks to you nicely is your husband, Viv.” I smiled, carefully whisking my pancake mix.

“I mean it this time, he was so different and nice, and he smelt really heavenly. I almost took a bite off him.” She sighed dreamily.

“Mmmh.” I turned on my phone speaker and placed it on the holder.

I’ve been seeing this new pancake recipe that makes ordinary pancakes look and taste like the Japanese soufflé, and I was all for experimenting. I was a creature of habit and laid down rules, and naturally, I found baking relaxing. Measuring out the ingredients, watching the dough rise, deflating it, and shaping it into whatever you want has the same effect as therapy on me. These few days without work have been the most relaxing, and I’ve been trying out every new recipe in the book.

“I just wish I would run into him one more time and maybe we’d talk and get to know each other.”

“Hold on.” I paused my whisking. “You didn’t even get to talk to him?”

I honestly don’t know why I bother with her anymore. Vivian falls in love faster than a paper man on a windy day. I would’ve been concerned if she didn’t get over them at the same speed she fell for them, but fawning over a man you never spoke to is a whole new level of crazy.

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