Every Mafia's Favorite Girl

Chapter 30: "Not In Her Room"

It was 1:05 PM on Sunday when Caio Sartori stepped out of the black sedan and entered the estate’s main hallway.

Exhaustion sat heavily behind his eyes.

He had slept less than three hours the previous night. After that came the morning meetings, the endless phone calls, and the cleanup following the assassination attempt at the restaurant.

Most importantly, he had spent the last several days deliberately avoiding Aren after Wednesday night.

Avoiding her voice.

Avoiding her face.

The memory of her lying beneath him in his bed with swollen lips and confused eyes alone was enough to make self-disgust crawl beneath his skin all over again.

As he walked through the marble corridor, he loosened the knot of his tie with a sharp tug. A servant hurried forward just in time for Caio to shrug off his suit jacket and hand it over without even looking.

Beside him, Leo continued delivering reports in his usual calm tone, clipboard tucked beneath one arm.

"...the eastern shipping route is secured again, but there’s still no confirmation regarding who leaked the restaurant schedule."

Caio rubbed once at the back of his neck. "And Lamon?"

"Still under interrogation," Leo replied. "He keeps insisting he was forced into cooperation."

Caio’s expression hardened another degree. "Everyone says that when there’s a gun pointed at their head."

Leo gave a slight nod and continued alongside him through the corridor.

Before he could continue, Mrs. Pecora emerged from a connecting hallway carrying a stack of folded linens.

The moment she spotted Caio, surprise crossed her face. He almost never returned to the estate this early.

"Sir," she greeted quickly. "You’ve returned."

"I came back for lunch," Caio said flatly, not slowing his pace.

Mrs. Pecora recovered instantly. "Lunch will be prepared immediately."

By the time they entered the main dining hall, Leo had resumed his report.

"...we’re also having difficulties retrieving the surveillance footage from the tower in Accardi District—"

Caio barely heard him anymore. His gaze had already drifted across the massive dining hall automatically — toward the long dining table, toward the tall windows drenched in afternoon light, toward the chair Aren usually occupied for dinner.

It was empty.

No sign of platinum hair, no oversized sweater. No Biscuit circling beneath the table begging for food.

His brow tightened immediately.

He looked toward Mrs. Pecora.

"Where’s Ariana?"

Mrs. Pecora answered quickly, composed as ever. "Perhaps she’s in her suite playing with Biscuit. She doesn’t always require lunch."

Caio pulled out a chair and sat down. "Inform her I’m back," he said. "Tell her I want her to join me for lunch."

Mrs. Pecora inclined her head immediately. "I’ll send a maid to Lady Ariana’s suite at once."

One of the younger maids hurried from the room so quickly she nearly caught her shoe on the carpet edge.

As Caio leaned back in his chair, Leo resumed his report beside him.

"...we attempted to contact House Accardi directly regarding the footage, but communication remains delayed due to—"

"Leo."

"Yes, Boss?"

"Stop talking until lunch is over."

Leo immediately fell silent.

Several quiet minutes passed with the dining settling into quiet. Servants moved in and out of the dining hall arranging lunch.

Water glasses.

Fresh bread.

Silver cutlery aligned perfectly beside polished plates.

Still, no Aren.

Caio’s fingers tapped once against the armrest.

Then again.

Several more minutes passed before hurried footsteps echoed back into the room.

The maid returned, and the second Mrs. Pecora saw her face, the atmosphere shifted.

The girl looked completely terrified.

"What is it?" Mrs. Pecora asked immediately. "What happened?"

The maid swallowed hard, wringing both hands tightly against her apron.

"Lady Ariana..." she stammered weakly.

Caio looked over sharply.

"What happened?" Mrs. Pecora repeated more firmly. "Speak properly."

The maid’s eyes darted nervously between Mrs. Pecora and Caio.

"She’s... she’s not in her room."

Silence dropped heavily across the dining hall.

Mrs. Pecora frowned, concern surfacing beneath her calm professionalism. "Did you check the gardens? The east wing? The rear courtyard?"

"I already sent others to search," the maid said miserably. "She’s nowhere on the estate."

Leo stepped forward. "And the dog?" he asked. "Perhaps she walked him outside the estate grounds?"

The maid somehow looked even more distressed. "That’s the problem," she admitted quietly. "The dog is still inside her suite."

Silence.

The atmosphere in the dining hall changed instantly.

Every trace of fatigue vanished from Caio’s face, replaced by something infinitely colder. Slowly, he turned toward Mrs. Pecora.

"Mrs. Pecora," he said calmly, "she was injured. And somehow you allowed her to disappear from my estate without anyone noticing."

Mrs. Pecora lowered her head at once. "My apologies, sir. I’ll consult security at once and determine whether anyone saw her leave."

"No need," Caio interrupted sharply. "Have someone else handle security. You contact her assistant personally. Find out whether Ariana went to the Lombardi estate or the hotel."

"Yes, sir."

Mrs. Pecora motioned sharply for the maids to follow her. The room emptied quickly after that.

Caio leaned his head back against the chair, fingers pressing hard against his temple.

’Where the hell could she possibly go?’

’Without telling me?’ freeweɓnovel.cøm

Irritation burned hotter beneath his skin by the second.

Across from him, Leo shifted slightly while mentally running through possibilities. Several long seconds passed before he finally cleared his throat.

"Um... Boss."

Caio looked over.

"What?"

Leo reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and withdrew a cream-colored envelope.

"I might have an idea."

He placed it carefully onto the dining table.

"The last time I checked, Lady Ariana’s name was on the guest list."

Caio stared down at the envelope.

"What’s this?"

He picked it up anyway.

The second he recognized the embossed Leone insignia across the front, his gaze snapped dangerously toward Leo.

"You kept this?"

"Yes, Boss."

"Without my approval?"

"At the time," Leo answered cautiously, "I believed the invitation might prove strategically useful."

A sharp exhale escaped Caio. He opened the envelope and scanned the contents quickly.

The Women’s Luncheon.

Hosted by Lady Chiara Leone.

Location: The Grand Heritage Hotel, Leone District.

Time: 1:00 PM.

Today.

Caio closed his eyes briefly.

’You’ve got to be kidding me.’

At that exact moment, hurried footsteps returned. Mrs. Pecora entered the dining hall again, slightly breathless.

"Sir," she said quickly, "Lady Ariana’s assistant confirmed she is not with her. However..." She hesitated. "Several weeks ago, Lady Ariana accepted an invitation to a luncheon hosted today by Lady Chiara Leone."

Caio could physically feel the headache forming behind his eyes.

He rubbed at them.

Hard.

’Chiara Leone’s luncheon.’

’Of all places.’

’What the hell does she even know about those women?’

’They’ll either tear her apart socially within ten minutes... or she’ll accidentally expose herself answering the wrong question.’

An image flashed vividly through his mind: Aren sitting at a table full of Borgata aristocratic women while casually discussing concealed knives, body disposal, or optimal shooting range trajectories.

His eye twitched.

He inhaled slowly through his nose.

When he finally stood, the calmness settling over him was somehow more dangerous than anger — enough to make several servants near the doorway visibly stiffen.

Caio turned toward Leo.

"Prepare the car," he said quietly. "We’re going to Leone District."