Every Mafia's Favorite Girl novel Chapter 107

Chapter 107: "What Am I To You?"

The next morning, when Aren stepped out of the master bedroom, Isidore was already gone.

The suite looked exactly as it had the night before. There wasn’t the slightest trace to suggest another person had ever occupied it.

A faint sense of loss settled quietly in Aren’s chest, though she couldn’t understand why.

Logically, she knew Isidore Accardi was an exceptionally busy man. It was only natural that he would leave before she woke.

’Is that what kissing does to people?’

’I started feeling strange emotions about Don Caio after he kissed me, too.’

Shaking the thought aside, she wandered into the living room. The moment she stepped inside, however, her attention caught on something that hadn’t been there before.

Resting neatly atop the coffee table was her garment bag — the very one she had left behind in Isidore’s office the previous day.

On top of it lay a small square note, folded with immaculate precision.

Signorina,

Your garment bag.

If Caio Sartori makes a fuss after you return, remember what I told you last night.

— I.

Aren traced the handwriting silently with her eyes.

She read the note again.

For reasons she couldn’t quite explain, a small smile tugged gently at her lips.

Carefully refolding the note into its original perfect square, she slipped it into the hidden compartment of the white clutch he had given her.

Only then did she change back into her own clothes, gather her belongings, and quietly leave the suite.

─ •✧• ─ ✿ ─ •✧• ─

The Sartori estate was shrouded in an oppressive silence when Aren returned that morning.

Servants moved quietly through the grounds, carrying out their duties with practiced efficiency, yet every face wore the same haunted expression.

The moment the front gates opened, however, nearly every head in the courtyard turned.

A taxi rolled to a gentle stop.

The rear door opened, and Aren stepped out carrying a paper bag filled with freshly baked banana bread.

For the briefest instant, absolute silence descended.

Then, the entire estate erupted.

"Lady Ariana!"

One of the maids nearly collided with Aren, relief flooding her face.

"You’re back!"

"My goodness, my lady!" another cried, hurrying over. "Where have you been?"

Even one of the gardeners abandoned his work and rushed across the lawn.

"The entire estate’s been in chaos since last night!"

Aren blinked several times, completely caught off guard by the overwhelming reception.

Every one of the staff looked exhausted, if not outright distressed. A few even appeared on the verge of tears.

Offering an apologetic smile, she bowed her head slightly.

"Good morning, everyone. I’m very sorry for worrying you with my absence. May I ask why everyone looks so... pale?" She lifted the paper bag a little. "Would some banana bread help?"

The response was immediate.

Every expression stiffened.

"No time for bread, my lady!"

"You need to deal with this immediately!"

"The Don mobilized everyone to search the entire city for you last night!"

"You should go to his study right away. He’s been there since early this morning."

Aren quietly absorbed the information, the pieces finally falling into place. Bowing once more with complete sincerity, she said,

"I’m terribly sorry for causing everyone so much distress. I promise I’ll make ice cream for everyone later to make up for the emotional disturbance."

A chorus of desperate objections answered her at once.

"We don’t need ice cream, my lady!"

"We need you to see the Don!"

"Please. Right now!"

Aren nodded obediently.

"I understand."

Excusing herself with another bow, she headed toward the mansion.

Behind her, the staff watched her disappear inside, silently praying for her safety.

─ •✧• ─ ✿ ─ •✧• ─

One step after another carried Aren up the grand staircase.

Caio’s study was one of the few rooms in the Sartori estate she seldom entered. Walking toward it now reminded her of the day they had first negotiated their contract together.

The memory drew the faintest smile to her lips. When she reached the heavy wooden door, she knocked gently.

"Don Caio?" she called softly. "It’s me. I’m back."

No answer came.

Instead, she heard the scrape of a chair across the floor, followed by hurried footsteps closing the distance.

A heartbeat later, the door flew open with enough force to make her blink.

Caio stood in the doorway like the embodiment of winter itself.

Dark circles shadowed his eyes. His hair was slightly disheveled, and the exhaustion etched into every line of his face made it painfully obvious he hadn’t slept.

His jaw was locked so tightly that every muscle stood rigid beneath his skin, as though he were restraining something so overwhelming that the slightest crack in his composure might unleash it entirely.

The smile faded from Aren’s face the instant she saw him.

"Hi... good morning," she greeted quietly, her voice shrinking. "I’m very sorry our phone call ended so abruptly last night... it wasn’t within my control."

Trying to lighten the mood, she lifted the paper bag with both hands.

"But... look what I brought. I bought you banana bread for breakfast."

Those simple words, paired with the innocent offering, only seemed to darken Caio’s expression further.

He didn’t say a single word.

Instead, he seized her wrist and pulled her inside.

"Ah—"

The door slammed shut behind them with a sharp kick.

Still holding her arm, he led her directly across the room to his desk before pressing her down into the large leather chair.

Aren gasped in surprise. When she looked up, both of Caio’s hands came down on the armrests to either side of her, caging her neatly between them.

His face hovered just above hers.

Each word sounded as though it had clawed its way out of hell itself.

"Did that fucker touch you?"

Aren blinked rapidly.

"...Who?" she asked reflexively.

Then understanding dawned.

"Oh... Mister Accardi?"

Caio’s jaw flexed violently.

"Who else?!"

Aren startled slightly at the sharp rise in his voice. Her gaze drifted away almost at once as memories of the previous night resurfaced.

’...He did touch me.’

’But that was training for our operations.’

’I can’t tell Don Caio that.’

After several long seconds, she looked back at him with quiet apology in her eyes.

"I... can’t discuss any details of what happened last night. They’re all related to my contract with House Accardi."

’It’s not just about your safety!’

Her gaze wandered thoughtfully.

"...my client."

The answer struck him like a blade.

Client.

Just...

A client.

Every muscle in Caio’s body tightened until it ached.

Before he could force out a word, Aren spoke again.

"But... you’re also someone I care about very deeply."

A sad smile touched her lips.

"And it doesn’t make me happy to see you looking this distressed, whether it’s because of me... or because of something else."

Something inside Caio quietly gave way.

The jagged ache tearing through his chest softened all at once, dissolving beneath the sincerity in her eyes.

His heart still ached.

Not from jealousy.

From guilt.

Very slowly, he leaned back just enough to give her room to breathe.

"Then... don’t do that again," his voice softened. "Don’t spend another night with Isidore Accardi."

Aren looked genuinely troubled.

"But... that isn’t really within my control. I wasn’t expecting the extra work hours either."

Caio closed his eyes for a brief moment.

Of course.

To her, they were simply work hours.

Nothing more.

"So..."

A humorless laugh escaped him.

"I’m supposed to accept you disappearing without notice... and spending the night somewhere else with him?"

Seeing the hurt return to his face, Aren moved without thinking. She slipped both arms around his shoulders and gently drew him into a hug.

"Please don’t worry," she whispered softly near his ear. "Think of it as my work schedule. When you leave for work... I sometimes feel a little lonely here at the estate too. So... I think I understand how you felt."

Caio stiffened in complete surprise.

Several long seconds passed before the meaning of her words truly reached him.

’She feels lonely... when I’m gone?’

’There were really times when she...’

’...missed me?’

Before he could find any certainty, a faint blush spread across Aren’s cheeks.

"But now that I’m home... would you please kiss me?"

Caio didn’t need to be asked twice.

Without another word, he slipped one arm around her waist and lifted her effortlessly from the chair.

Sheets of paper fluttered into the air.

Pens and folders skidded across the polished desk as his forearm swept everything aside.

Before Aren fully realized what was happening, she was seated atop the desk.

"Caio, what are you—"

The question never reached its end.

He leaned down and captured her lips in the hungry kiss he had been craving from the moment she vanished from his sight the day before.