Free Web NovelChapter 67: "Standard Girl Behavior"
It wasn’t until 2 PM that Caio Sartori was finally released from the prison of yet another mind-numbingly dull meeting for the very company he owned.
The boardroom doors swung open, spilling lines of executives and board members from Sartori Pharmaceuticals into the hallway.
These were seasoned businessmen entrusted with maintaining House Sartori’s respectable public face, yet every one of them wore the shell-shocked expression of men who had barely survived a category-five storm unleashed by their young Chairman.
Caio remained behind, slouched at the head of the massive conference table.
He rubbed his temples with unnecessary force, already regretting how much he had shouted during the meeting. His throat had gone painfully dry.
Pissed off, exhausted, and in desperate need of several heavy shots to dull the boredom of dealing with idiots daily, he fished his phone from the pocket of his tailored suit.
’Let’s check up on her.’
’See if she’s wandered off somewhere without telling me again.’
The screen lit up, flooding him with business notifications, missed calls, and encrypted messages demanding his immediate attention.
Yet among the endless stream, one particular name instantly caught his eye.
Ariana Lombardi.
His eyes widened.
’Aren?’
Without hesitation, he opened the chat.
Ariana: Don Caio, I shall go out with a maid to buy flowers now. Don’t worry! I’ll be back in a few hours. ☺️
The corner of his mouth twitched into a reluctant smile.
’Flowers?’
’Since when is she interested in anything beside cakes, ice cream, or throwing daggers?’
The amusement lasted only a heartbeat before an icy weight settled into his stomach.
’...Wait a minute.’
His eyes narrowed at the screen.
’Don’t tell me she bought flowers for Jordan Marchetti.’
His jaw tightened.
’Wait.’
’Relax.’
’Don’t lose your mind.’
’Maybe they’re just for her bedroom.’
’A basic decoration.’
’Standard girl behavior.’
He exhaled slowly through his nose, deliberately forcing his pulse back under control before typing a reply.
Caio: Text me when you’re back at the estate.
Caio: Don’t wait for me for dinner. Busy day.
His fingers hovered over the keyboard before he typed one final message. freewebnøvel.coɱ
Caio: Miss you.
His thumb froze completely above the send button.
’...No.’
’Is it too early to say that?’
’What if she doesn’t miss me back?’
’What if her brain registers that as a statistical anomaly and things get awkward for her?’
Preserving what little dignity he had left, he furiously mashed the backspace key until every last letter disappeared.
Yet, the moment the screen locked shut, he rested an elbow on the armrest, staring through the windows overlooking the city skyline as though his mind had already wandered somewhere far beyond them.
’Does she miss me too?’
The phone hung loosely in his hand, forgotten.
Several minutes later, a sharp knock echoed against the heavy conference room door.
KNOCK. KNOCK.
The sound startled Caio enough that he shoved his phone back into his pocket with suspicious speed, looking every bit like a man who had just been caught doing something profoundly embarrassing.
Judging by the rhythm and force of the knock, Caio already knew it was Leo.
By the time he spoke, his usual Don-like composure had fully returned.
"Come in."
As expected, Leo entered with his usual calm, unreadable expression.
Tucked beneath one arm was a thick forensic report, which he placed neatly on the conference table in front of Caio.
"Forensics report on the six prisoners, Boss."
Caio snatched up the folder and flipped through it with obvious impatience.
His gaze skimmed over photographs of dissected corpses — bodies cut open and meticulously examined in the laboratory — before he tossed the entire file aside casually.
"Report what’s important," he muttered, sinking back into his chair. "I’m in no mood to read the whole damn thing."
Leo simply nodded. He had long since grown accustomed to this style of command.
"There were no needle marks on any of the bodies. No traces of poison were found in the stomach contents or lungs. This time, the delivery method was entirely different from the previous incidents."
Frustration immediately reignited inside Caio, though surprise never came. He had examined the bodies himself, after all.
"They’re getting creative," he muttered. "And infuriatingly clever."
Leo withdrew several enlarged close-up photographs and arranged them neatly across the table.
"We have strong reason to believe the toxin entered through skin absorption. The laboratory is still conducting chemical analysis, but at present, it’s the only logical explanation." ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com
Caio frowned.
"Through the prisoners’ clothes?"
"Possibly," Leo replied. "Or through the blankets and bedding."
Caio picked up the photographs one by one, studying the victims’ pale skin.
"So..." he said at last, "our list of suspects narrows to the guards responsible for distributing fresh clothing and bedding... or whoever handled the prison laundry."
Leo gave a single nod.
"I’ve already dispatched men to interrogate everyone involved in laundering and distributing prisoner supplies. I’ve also reinforced security around your private laundry."
"Any guess where this particular nerve toxin originated?"
Leo considered the question carefully.
"Not until we confirm it was indeed the murder weapon. Once the laboratory identifies the compound, we’ll have a much clearer direction."
"You’d better," Caio muttered.
He finally pushed himself to his feet, straightening the front of his suit jacket.
"How many meetings are left today?"
"Three, Boss. Two with regional distributors. And one with a major chemical supplier."
Caio closed his eyes for a brief moment.
’I’m going to lose my mind before the first one even ends.’
"Of course," he mumbled, dragging a hand down his face as he headed for the door, looking every bit like a man who would gladly cancel all three meetings if the world would simply allow it.
─ •✧• ─ ✿ ─ •✧• ─
By the time Caio stepped through the doors of his estate, it was already 11 PM.
Warm amber light washed through the quiet corridors as he made his way toward the west wing.
He climbed the staircase leading to his private suite, and the moment he reached the landing, his gaze automatically drifted to the room directly opposite his own.
Its doors were closed. Not a sliver of light escaped beneath them.
’She usually goes to bed early... and wakes up even earlier.’
’She must already be asleep.’
With that thought in mind, Caio crossed to his own suite and swiped his key card.
The lock clicked open.
The instant he stepped inside, a rich, honeyed fragrance rushed to meet him.
’What the...’
His eyes immediately found the source.
Centered atop the coffee table stood a tall crystal vase filled with twelve white peonies.
They had yet to bloom completely. Each blossom remained curled inward, soft clusters of layered ivory petals folded tightly upon themselves, as though shyly hiding from the world.
For one long second, Caio simply stared.
Then, his face darkened.
Without another glance at the arrangement, he spun on his heel, strode back out of the room, and descended the staircase with brisk, angry steps, searching for the first maid he could find.
He didn’t have to search for long.
Two maids stood farther down the corridor, quietly attending to their duties.
"You there."
His voice sliced cleanly through the silence of the sleeping estate.
Both women jumped slightly before immediately turning toward him. Their expressions stiffened the instant they saw his face.
Caio stood with both hands planted firmly on his hips, every inch of him radiating displeasure.
"Come here," he ordered sharply. "I want a word."
Neither dared hesitate.
They hurried over and bowed respectfully, already sensing the storm gathering before them.
"Sir," one of them asked cautiously, "is there something you wish to convey?"
"There is."
His answer came without hesitation.
"The flowers in my room. Did I not explicitly order that no flowers were ever to be placed there again?"
Both maids lifted their heads, their faces draining of color as though they had expected this exact confrontation.
Caio continued before either could speak.
"Flowers can be sprayed with inhaled toxins," he said, voice growing colder with every word. "We’ve already had an incident involving exactly that. Did I not make myself perfectly clear afterward?"
His eyes narrowed.
"So tell me. Who put those flowers in my room?"
The two women exchanged a nervous glance before silently deciding who would answer. At last, the older maid stepped forward.
"Sir..." she said apologetically. "The person who placed the flowers in your room was... Lady Ariana."
All the anger drained from Caio’s face in an instant.
He blinked once.
Then again.
And once more.
"A... Ariana?"
There wasn’t the slightest trace of fury left in his voice. Only disbelief.
The maid nodded quickly.
"We tried to explain that you don’t allow flowers inside your room anymore, sir. But Lady Ariana insisted they were safe."
The younger maid hurried to support her friend.
"Yes, sir. Mrs. Pecora also tried to persuade her otherwise, but Lady Ariana wouldn’t be convinced."
Before either woman could continue, Caio quietly raised one hand.
"Enough."
Both fell silent immediately.
For a long moment, Caio said nothing.
A succession of unreadable emotions flickered behind his eyes until, at last, he spoke with complete composure.
"Return to your duties."
The two maids looked up.
"And from this point onward," he continued, perfectly calm, "do not stop Lady Ariana from putting flowers in my room. Ever again."
Without another word, Caio turned and climbed the staircase once more, leaving behind two utterly bewildered maids staring after him in stunned silence.
By the time he reached the upper landing, he stopped beside the railing and leaned heavily against it.
His chest rose and fell as he caught his breath, though it wasn’t simply from climbing the stairs too quickly.
It was from the realization itself.
’...God.’
’So she went out to buy flowers today...’
’Not for Jordan Marchetti.’
’Not for herself.’
’...But for me?’
A slow warmth spread through Caio’s chest before climbing steadily into his face. Without thinking, his feet carried him across the hallway and toward Aren’s room.
He stopped before her door, drew in a slow, steadying breath, and cautiously reached for the handle.
’Please be awake.’
He turned it gently.
To his surprise, the door unlocked at once.
