Every Mafia's Favorite Girl

Chapter 61: "Just The Cheek?"

Aren woke slowly to warmth.

For several quiet seconds, she simply lay still, suspended in that hazy space between sleep and wakefulness.

The room remained dim beneath the morning light filtering through the curtains. She found herself tucked securely against a broad chest, strong arms still wrapped around her as though they had never loosened during the night.

Carefully, she shifted her head and glanced over her shoulder.

Caio was still asleep.

His eyes remained closed, his breathing deep and even. Each slow rise and fall of his chest pressed gently against her back in a steady, comforting rhythm.

’Is he not working today?’

The thought surprised her.

’He often leaves very early in the morning...’

What surprised her even more, however, was the absence of something she had quietly come to expect.

The nightmares. The tension that would seize his body without warning.

But last night, there had been nothing. She had fallen asleep in his arms and remained there peacefully until morning.

Looking at him now, she found his expression unusually calm. The perpetual strain she so often noticed around his eyes and mouth seemed absent.

He looked younger somehow. Less burdened.

A tiny smile touched her lips.

’If I could keep Don Caio like this, I would do anything.’

Tentatively, she turned within his embrace. Moving carefully so she wouldn’t disturb him, she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against his cheek.

The instant her lips touched his skin, a deep voice rumbled through the quiet room.

"Just the cheek?"

Aren froze completely.

Heat exploded across her face so quickly she thought she might spontaneously combust.

Her lips remained suspended against his cheek for a fraction of a second before she jerked back in alarm.

"I’m very sorry!" she blurted. "Did I wake you?"

She immediately attempted a retreat.

Unfortunately, retreat proved impossible.

Caio’s arms tightened around her waist before she could escape, drawing her firmly back against him.

A low breath of amusement escaped him.

"You did," he said.

His nose brushed gently against hers.

"Now make up for it."

The casual intimacy of the gesture nearly stopped Aren’s heart. Warmth spread from her face all the way to her ears.

"...How?" she asked softly.

His gaze lingered on her for a moment.

"Just what you’ve been doing."

He leaned forward and returned the earlier gesture with a kiss against her cheek.

"But on my lips."

Aren blinked.

"We kissed a lot last night," she pointed out with complete sincerity. "Were you not satisfied?"

The question earned her a look that immediately made her realize she had perhaps asked the wrong thing.

Caio’s patience, apparently, had already reached its limit. Rather than answering properly, he simply closed the distance himself.

"I’m afraid I’m nowhere near satisfied," he murmured against her lips.

His voice dropped lower.

"Not with you."

What followed left Aren thoroughly incapable of forming coherent thoughts for quite some time afterward.

By the time reason finally began reasserting itself, both of them remained tangled together beneath the blankets, neither displaying any real intention of leaving the bed.

"We should go," Caio finally breathed.

The declaration might have sounded more convincing had his attention not remained entirely fixed on her. One hand was still gripping her breast, squeezing obsessively, while the other dug deep into her ass.

Aren looked up at him.

"You said that five minutes ago."

A faint smile tugged at her lips.

"And ten minutes before that."

A rough laugh escaped him.

"I know."

The response carried the weary resignation of a man losing a battle he fully understood he needed to win.

At last, with visible effort, he withdrew his attention and pushed himself upright, pulling Aren up with him.

─ •✧• ─ ✿ ─ •✧• ─

The mansion had already awakened by the time they descended the stairs. Servants moved throughout the halls carrying trays, linens, and stacks of paperwork.

The moment Caio and Aren appeared together, however, an entirely different atmosphere swept through the estate.

Every maid, every footman, every servant suddenly became extraordinarily interested in anything that was not directly in front of them.

The marble floor became fascinating.

The walls became fascinating.

Several decorative flower arrangements suddenly demanded immediate inspection.

Anything was preferable to openly staring.

After all, the household had spent the previous day quietly anticipating a prolonged cold war between the Don and his lady following the Marchetti heir incident.

Yet, instead, Aren walked through the halls now with pink cheeks while Caio casually held her hand. The contrast had nearly broken several people’s understanding of reality.

Even more alarming was Caio himself.

The perpetually cold expression capable of freezing an entire room had softened into something almost unrecognizable: the corners of his lips seemed permanently inclined toward a faint smile.

Still, everyone considered themselves fortunate for one particular reason. At least Aren had remained in his bed long enough to miss her morning bread campaign.

When they reached the kitchen, Mrs. Pecora was already waiting, as always.

The veteran Head of Staff maintained her professional composure admirably. Internally, however, she was experiencing a personal crisis.

The Don was smiling — not often, not accidentally — but actually smiling.

And he had slept in.

Neither event belonged within normal operating parameters.

"Sir. My lady."

Mrs. Pecora inclined her head politely.

"Breakfast is ready."

They soon settled at the large table.

Aren chose a seat beside Caio near the head.

Tea, coffee, fruit, eggs, butter, and fresh bread had already been arranged before them. Notably, the bread was made by Mrs. Pecora. A fact the household appreciated greatly.

Caio took a sip of coffee before glancing toward Aren.

"Do you actually plan on opening a bakery?"

"I do," Aren nodded immediately, her expression turning serious. "Only after I manage my way through my current four contracts, of course. I wouldn’t want to neglect my duties."

"Mmm."

He took another sip.

Then another.

After a thoughtful pause, he set the cup down.

"You might want to consider distributing the ice cream you made through Lombardi businesses first."

Aren blinked.

"Lombardi businesses?"

"Resorts. Hotels. Luxury clubs," he counted them off casually. "They all have restaurants, don’t they? Add the ice cream to the menu."

Aren immediately began considering the idea. The more she thought about it, the more she realized she had embarrassingly little business knowledge.

Combat, weapons, logistics — those she understood. But restaurant distribution chains?

Far less.

Apparently Caio had thought much further ahead than she had.

"But..." She leaned closer, lowering her voice so nearby staff couldn’t overhear. "Do you think Don Gian would like the idea?"

Caio leaned closer as well.

"Just bring him the samples you made. Let the old man decide after he’s tasted them."

Aren stared.

"You’d... let me visit him?"

"Why not?"

His expression remained relaxed.

"You are his daughter now, anyway."

A brief pause followed.

"Though Ariana was never exactly a good daughter, you could try mending things with him. Start with this."

The corner of his mouth twitched.

"I’m not exactly a fan of dealing with Gian, but I could take you to the Lombardi estate if you want."

Aren fell silent.

The possibility appealed to her. At the same time, it felt daunting.

She stole a glance at Caio instead.

Part of her wanted to ask him how daughters were supposed to behave with their fathers — how families worked, how reconciliation worked. But then she remembered the bitterness that always surfaced whenever the topic of his own father arose.

His old wound never seemed far beneath the surface.

She didn’t want to cause him pain.

At last, she nodded.

"I will think about it."

She picked up a piece of bread and placed it onto his plate.

"Please eat more."

Caio looked down, then back up.

"What?"

A grin appeared on his face.

"Am I not meaty enough for you?"

Aren immediately shook her head.

"I noticed you mostly drink coffee for breakfast. And you often skip lunch. It’s not a healthy habit."

Caio stared at her for a moment.

She both looked and sounded genuinely concerned.

A smile tugged at his mouth.

’Right.’

’She’s always been worried about me.’ freeweɓnøvel.com

’Even before she ever knew me.’

He obediently picked up the bread.

"Yes, madam. I shall eat."

Aren watched as he took quiet bites, pleased despite herself.

’Don Caio listens to me.’

A small smile spread across her face as she lifted her tea.

Unfortunately, breakfast ended sooner than either of them would have liked.

Leo entered with brisk efficiency, already checking his watch. Although composed as always, something impatient lingered beneath his professionalism.

"Boss." He nodded respectfully. "The car is ready. The meeting with the pharmaceutical partners is at ten. At this rate, we might be running late."

Caio immediately looked annoyed. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

"Of course." He sighed heavily. "Tell them to wait. It’s not like they’re all excited for these meetings."

Despite the complaint, he wiped his mouth and stood, leaving the unfinished breakfast behind.

After taking several steps toward the exit, however, he abruptly stopped and turned around.

Before anyone in the room could process what was happening, he walked straight back toward the table — toward Aren — leaned down, and pressed a gentle kiss against her forehead.

Every servant in the room immediately froze to stone.

The room collectively forgot how to breathe.

"Don’t go hanging out with some heir without me knowing today," he murmured, breathing in the scent of her hair. "If you must, at least send me a text."

Aren immediately turned bright red, the piece of bread in her hands freezing midair.

"I will text you," she promised, her voice coming out smaller than intended.

A satisfied smirk appeared on Caio’s face.

Before she could recover, he leaned down again — and this time, the kiss landed on her lips.

Slow.

Unhurried.

Entirely shameless.

The resulting silence inside the dining hall became profound.

When Caio finally pulled away, he looked remarkably pleased with himself. With that, he simply turned and left the room.

Leo stood frozen behind him for several seconds. Eventually, he remembered his responsibilities and hurried after the Don.

Aren went completely still as she watched them disappear through the doorway. Her heart was hammering relentlessly against her ribs.

She placed a hand over her chest.

’I think I need a medical check.’

’This body might have developed a heart disease.’