Page 27 of Ruthless Mafia Daddy

He turned to give me an incredulous look, which I responded to with an equally confused look. “Happy Birthday Sweetheart.”

Happy birthday!

I blinked twice and quickly grabbed my phone from the bed stand, powering it. On my screen, bold and bright, was the 18th of July. And beneath the date were a gazillion notifications from Vivian, a few from Julia, and a single Happy Birthday text from Father.

Shit! Shit! I was so lost in this web I had completely lost track of time. And Vivian—I opened her most recent text and was assaulted by multiple stickers and questions about my whereabouts. A second glance at my taskbar revealed the time to be eleven a.m.

“Is everything alright?” Mikhail asked, watching as I dropped the food tray and started putting on my clothes.

“Everything is not fine, babe. My friends requested to host me a birthday brunch, and I totally lost track of time,” I lied through my teeth, turning my back to him to do up my zipper. It amazed me how good I’ve become at lying. I can cook up the most convincing lie on the spot, no matter what the situation is, without blinking or stuttering.

“Woah. You could just text and tell them you’ll make it up to them. I made plans for us.” He murmured, kissing my neck, and I practically squirmed from him.

“That would be cruel. They made plans to make me feel special, and the least I can do is show up. I can always see you later in the day,” I smiled softly at him.

Sometimes, I found it hard to reconcile the Mikhail I was seeing with the Mikhail I knew. If I hadn’t seen his file before the meeting, I wouldn’t have pegged him to be the cold-hearted killer he was. Granted, he did possess this air of dominance that clung to him like a second skin, setting him apart from most men, but it was nothing compared to the sinister being that lurked beneath.

“Peter will drop you off, and I’ll pick you up at seven,” he said, placing a soft kiss on my lips. I could only muster a nod, thefamiliar cold feeling of disgust crawling over me as the reminder of his true identity reclaimed my memory.

****

“Where in the name of God have you been, Ari? I sent a surprise gift to you at dawn, only for the delivery guy to call and say you weren’t home,” Viv exclaimed the moment I stepped into her house.

“I’m sorry, Viv. I spent the night at Mikhail’s,” I said, sinking into the sofa.

“Oh,” Her body visibly relaxed. “You should’ve texted. I was worried, and your phone was off. I sent you a million texts.”

“More like a billion,” I smiled. “But you’re right, I should’ve texted. Sorry about that.”

When she didn’t reply, I turned my head to find her staring at me, a look of worry etched on her face. “Let it out, Vivian.”

“Does he scare you? Has he tried anything inappropriate with you? I know you have to get him to trust you and all, but Ari we know how dangerous this man is and if he’s making you do—?”

“Hey, hey. Breath.” I said, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her eyes on me. “There’s nothing to worry about. He has not done anything mildly inappropriate or scary. At least for now,” I added.

“Are you sure? I know how passionate you can get with these things, especially when children are involved. Promise me you’lltell Father or me if things ever get out of hand,” she said, holding my hands.

I would be the biggest liar if I said I didn’t understand her fears. Mikhail was a dangerous man, and anyone threading with him should do so with caution.

“I will,” I promised. “But for now, I need to get rested. Mikhail said he would be picking me up at seven. I think he has something planned.”

“He’s making plans for your birthday?” The look of worry on her face was replaced with that of disbelief.

“I’m as shocked as you are, girlfriend. This is progress. He should be all trusting and let me in on his deepest secrets in no time,” I smirked and stalked off to the bedroom.

CHAPTER 12

Mikhail

The last time I made plans for an event was my grandfather’s burial. Even then, I hired people to do most of the planning. I only gave the important details, told them what I expected, and abandoned the rest. Even with the Bratva, I delegate all of the planning and organizing to Enzo. I preferred the hands-on duty and the numbers, not mundane things like color themes and guest lists. But tonight was different. Everything had to be perfect to a ‘T,’ and the only way I could ensure that was by taking most of the planning into my hands.

Arielle had a very particular taste and a lot of irks. Even her hobbies were particular. She could love a part of a project and want nothing to do with the other side of it. Details as intricate as those were not what you can leave up to a total stranger who claims to know what they’re doing. They’re details that could only be executed by a person who had a deep understanding of who she was. So, here I was at the gallery at six p.m., making sure everything was set and ready for her arrival at seven.

When she mentioned her birthday was on the 18th during one of our question and answer nights, a weekly routine she liked to organize that consisted of questions about each other that should help us get to know ourselves better, I knew I had a very short time to come up with something.

I could’ve easily sent her flowers, taken her on a shopping spree, and even sent her some money, but she wasn’t just any girl, and I was aiming for something different. Our three-week agreement was slowly coming to an end, and I found myself thinking of something more stable, something more permanent.

She has made me happy in a way no woman has, and in loving her, I’ve come to discover new versions of myself I was loving. There was no way I was going to let her slip from my hands. So, I got to work immediately, and how better to go than through the one thing she loved the most, Art?

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