Page 32 of Thrill Me (Dark Odyssey 3)

As if I had that kind of money, or like I could magically find it from somewhere.

I spent the day looking for alternative buildings. The whole damn day searching one end of Illinois to the other mainly focusing on Chicago because that was where I had my heart set. I found nothing that resonated with me the way the first place did.

I didn’t sleep and when morning came I decided that maybe the way wasn’t to find an alternative.

Maybe I had to find a way to still get what I wanted.

The only person that came to my mind who could possibly, potentially have that kind of money to help me by way of investment was my father. He was always helping our relatives set up businesses in Italy. Always. So maybe he would do this for me.

He would have the money, and no he wouldn’t just cough up that kind of cash to hand over to me but if he looked at it as an investment I figured it would be more enticing.

That was what I told myself as I walked into Cipriani Consultancy a few hours later.

Dad had built this place from scratch.

It was one of the first businesses to work with the Giordanos. He worked with their family way back to Italy and for over forty years.

He handles the new contracts they receive and with their permission he was also able to take on business with some of the other crime families who are part of the alliance.

Dad is the middle man and this business that now takes up a whole building is how he met my mother. It’s a funny story that saw him doing everything he could to get her attention. Mom was at the height of her path to becoming a lawyer. Then things changed when she met him.

She used to tell me how she fell hard for him, and all these amazing stories about him. Of how adventurous he was and full of life he used to be.

But… I don’t know him to be anything like that.

Dad has always been firm with me. Spoiled me rotten, spoiled me worse after Mom died, but he was never there. That explained why I spent so much time with the Giordano boys. And probably why I’m not the princess he expected me to be.

The only time in recent memory that I recall him giving me some kind of parental attention was when he found out I was working at The Dark Odyssey. That came after he wanted to send me away to school in Europe.

He saw that as his way of helping me get back on track to cooking and the culinary arts.

I wasn’t ready to go then and definitely not ready to be so far away from everyone. I can’t stand my relatives in Italy and they don’t like me that much because they class me as a half-blood because of Mom. So I knew it would have been a disaster waiting to happen.

I calmed him down by telling him I was the manager of the club and that I’d be doing some courses, which I did actually do. I made him believe that I was just going to be doing the administration work for the boys and nothing more. Basically just paperwork.

Although he accepted that as an answer he’s still not happy about it and probably right too, since the bulk of my work is actually making sure the club is stocked with enough condoms and lube.

Jesus, I know I’ll most likely go straight to hell for lying the way I do. The thing is though, he knows the restaurant has always been in the cards for me.

He’ll know what it means for me to be taking this leap now. That’s what I’m hoping for anyway. Basically that he’ll have some compassion and help me.

I go straight to his office and knock on his door that’s already ajar. He’s expecting me and told me to get here for eleven sharp because he has a meeting he can’t be late for. I have ten minutes with him.

“Come in, “ he calls out and I push the door open and go inside.

He’s writing something so there’s a delay of about five seconds before he acknowledges me.

When he does it’s the usual part stern face and part father who should be happy to see his daughter he hasn’t seen since last month. Something else comes into his eyes though that I can’t quite put my finger on. It’s a light of wonder which I pray means he’s in a good mood.

“Morning Dad,” I say sweetly and silently rejoice when he gets up and makes his way around the desk to give me a hug. That does suggest he’s in a decent mood.

“Mimi, you look… so much like your mother.” He smiles with a sadness lurking in his eyes.

“Thank you.” I always take that as a compliment because my mother was incredibly beautiful. So of course it’s a compliment to hear I look like her.

“And, you’re dressed for business.” He observes and gives me a curious stare.

I didn’t tell him why I wanted to see him when we messaged earlier, only that I had something important I wanted to discuss.

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