Every Mafia's Favorite Girl novel Chapter 112

Chapter 112: "An Official Engagement?"

Standing motionless in the center of the sitting room, Aren blinked once in quiet surprise.

’...An official engagement?’

Her gaze drifted toward Natalia in mild confusion. The young woman sat with impeccable poise, lifting her teacup with effortless grace without sparing Aren so much as a glance.

Beside Aren, Jordan had gone rigid. Every muscle in his body strained with the effort it took not to overturn the coffee table separating the two families.

’Giovanni Porto, what the hell are you thinking?!’

The furious outburst remained locked inside his head.

One look at his father’s composed expression told him everything. Eduardo had invited Ariana Lombardi here deliberately, ensuring she would hear this announcement with her own ears.

Drawing a slow, steady breath, Jordan forced every trace of anger from his voice.

"Don Giovanni, with all due respect, I don’t understand why you’ve chosen today to discuss such an important matter. The Marchetti Trials begin tomorrow. Both House Marchetti and I are heavily occupied with the preparations."

"Jordan Marchetti."

Eduardo’s voice sharpened instantly.

"Is that how you address a Don?"

Giovanni answered before Jordan had the chance.

"Hahaha!"

The Porto Don threw his head back with a warm, booming laugh, waving one dismissive hand toward Eduardo.

"It’s fine, it’s fine. We all know our Jordan speaks his mind. Youth tends to do that."

His eyes sparkled with amusement as they settled once more on Jordan.

"Don’t look so tense, young man. I may seem like a conservative old fellow, but I’m more open-minded than people give me credit for."

He gave an easy shrug.

"This discussion has to happen eventually, of course, but the final decision will always be yours. There’s little point in forcing my daughter into a marriage with a man who doesn’t wish to marry her. Isn’t that right?"

Natalia lowered her head with graceful agreement.

"That is correct, Father."

She turned toward Jordan, offering him the same serene smile she had worn since arriving.

"The alliance would certainly benefit both Houses, but I would never wish to force Jordan into such a decision. After all, we’ve known each other forever."

The final sentence carried just enough emphasis to invite a reaction from Aren, yet when Natalia’s gaze shifted toward her, Aren remained perfectly still, her expression betraying not the slightest flicker of emotion.

A flash of displeasure crossed Natalia’s eyes before she smoothly erased it.

Jordan, on the other hand, was far less successful at concealing his irritation. He looked away as though Natalia’s remark had never been spoken and addressed Giovanni alone.

"Don Giovanni, so this meeting was simply to inform me that the discussions are beginning?"

"Exactly." Giovanni chuckled. "Consider it a courtesy. Something for you to think about while your father and I handle the details."

He waved Jordan away with easy amusement.

"You’re preparing for tomorrow, aren’t you? Off you go."

At that moment, Natalia rose elegantly from her seat.

"Father. Don Eduardo. Sofia."

She inclined her head apologetically.

"If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to meet with several Marchetti representatives regarding last week’s shipment."

"So diligent," Sofia remarked with unmistakable approval. "Always attending to important business. House Marchetti could only hope to welcome a woman like you into the family."

Her eyes drifted deliberately toward Aren.

"Rather than... some spoiled heiress who has no idea how to manage her own House’s affairs."

The insult was so thinly veiled it scarcely qualified as subtle.

Jordan knew exactly whom it had been meant for. Without acknowledging Sofia’s remark, he offered a crisp bow to the gathering.

"Then, if you’ll excuse us, Lady Ariana and I should return to preparing for the Trials."

He pivoted on his heel with unmistakable finality and gestured for Aren to follow.

Still uncertain why she had been summoned in the first place, Aren cast the room one last thoughtful glance.

Every face reflected a different emotion, yet none offered any clue as to why she had been brought there. Unable to find an answer, she lowered her head politely and followed Jordan out.

The moment they stepped into the corridor and the sitting room door closed behind them, she looked up at him.

"Jordan? May I ask you something?"

The question sent a rush of heat through Jordan’s face.

He knew exactly how damning the situation looked. He had just asked to date her merely days ago, and now, right in her presence, his family was arranging his engagement to another woman.

"Look, Ariana, it’s not what you think!" The words rushed out before Aren could say anything else. "I didn’t know anything about this before today. There’s nothing between Natalia Porto and me. Absolutely nothing from my end. If there’s anything at all, it’s entirely one-sided. I swear!"

Aren blinked rapidly beneath his barrage of hurried explanations.

"Ah... no."

She looked even more puzzled.

"That wasn’t what I wanted to ask."

Jordan stopped dead.

"...It wasn’t?"

She shook her head.

"It’s just... I’m a little confused because... I thought you and Lady Natalia were already engaged."

Jordan nearly stumbled over his own feet.

"WHAT?!"

The word exploded from him far louder than intended, loud enough to make several heads turn farther down the corridor. Realizing too late how loudly he’d spoken, Jordan immediately guided Aren into a quiet recessed alcove away from the passing staff.

Once they were out of sight, his hands settled gently on her upper arms, his expression more serious than she had ever seen.

’...How do those two things relate to one another?’

’God... why does everyone keep interrupting my time with her?’

’This is exactly why I need to take her on an actual date. There’s zero privacy anywhere in this compound.’

Jordan’s expression softened.

"It’s alright. I don’t want to drag you into something this trivial. Besides, today’s not even one of your scheduled workdays."

He gestured toward the corridor heading back to the gym.

"Would you wait for me in the gym? I’ll finish this as quickly as I can."

"Of course." She nodded enthusiastically. "If you need help after all, just send me a text. I’ll come immediately."

Ricci looked almost relieved to hear the Lombardi heiress agree. He also couldn’t help noticing that the two of them were simply standing there smiling at each other, neither making the slightest move to leave.

Clearing his throat loudly, he interrupted.

"Ahem."

Both of them blinked and finally broke eye contact.

"We’d better hurry, Young Boss," Ricci said. "Otherwise I’ll miss my tea break."

Jordan sighed dramatically.

"Fine."

He looked back at Aren one last time.

"See you in a bit, Ariana."

Aren waved goodbye as Jordan left with Ricci, heading toward the warehouse. Only once they disappeared from sight did she turn and make her way back toward the gym.

The compound had settled into the calm rhythm of early afternoon.

Employees crossed the walkways carrying crates. Conversations drifted faintly through open windows, while somewhere in the distance came the metallic ringing of weapons being tested for tomorrow’s competition.

Aren walked quietly through it all.

One corridor.

Then another.

And another.

Just as she passed an alcove, a hand suddenly shot toward her, reaching for her wrist.

Whoosh!

The hand never reached its target.

The instant Aren sensed the movement, her body reacted on pure instinct. Rather than allowing herself to be grabbed, both of her hands flashed forward and caught the attacker’s wrist.

Using his own momentum against him, she yanked him completely out of the alcove and hurled him hard toward the wall.

"Aaaaaargh!"

A cry of pure terror echoed through the corridor as the unfortunate attacker slammed chest-first into the wall. In one fluid motion, Aren pinned his arm behind his back, already beginning the twist that would dislocate his shoulder.

Sensing the imminent danger, the man immediately began squirming, his free hand slapping frantically against the wall in surrender.

"Wait, wait, wait! It’s me, it’s me, Miss Lombardi! Oscar! It’s Oscar!"