Every Mafia's Favorite Girl

Chapter 81: "Say Ah"

At a subtle snap of Caio’s fingers, a group of soldiers stepped forward carrying what looked less like an emergency meal and more like a banquet prepared for royalty.

Plates of slow-braised beef short ribs rested beside bowls of steaming lobster bisque.

Creamy truffle risotto released rich clouds of aroma into the air, while a basket overflowing with warm brioche rolls sat at the center of it all.

Every dish had clearly been selected with care. Soft foods. Gentle on a bruised jaw.

Aren stared at the feast.

Then stared some more.

Her mouth fell wide open despite the protest from her swollen face.

"That’s... a lot."

Caio glanced at the spread.

"It is?"

"I was talking about a few pieces of bread. This could feed my entire squad. I don’t think I can finish all of this."

A flash of disappointment crossed Caio’s face.

"Hm."

Several yards behind Aren, another team of soldiers had just arrived carrying an enormous box filled with backup desserts: caramelized crème brûlée, molten chocolate cakes, premium macarons, and the exact strawberry panna cotta she had been obsessing over during recent dinners.

Without a word, Caio raised a hand.

The soldiers halted instantly.

Confused looks passed between them, before they silently turned around and retreated with impeccable discipline, privately relieved that they would now be enjoying the macarons themselves.

Turning back to Aren, Caio’s attention softened once more.

"Can you even chew?"

Aren nodded.

"I can."

Yet instead of reaching for the food, Aren found herself studying him in silence.

A note of concern entered her voice.

"But... are you alright?"

The question caught him completely off guard.

"Why wouldn’t I be?"

"Well..." She hesitated. "Because I told you five minutes ago that your aunt and cousin are behind the assassination attempts, but you didn’t react." fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

She searched his eyes carefully.

"You also didn’t get angry. You didn’t look surprised. You didn’t say anything at all. You just... kept checking my injuries."

For a long moment, Caio said nothing.

She wasn’t wrong.

The truth was, when she’d started speaking, the information had scarcely registered. All he’d been capable of seeing were the bruises scattered across her face.

Now, forced to confront it, the emotions arrived all at once.

’How am I supposed to explain this?’

’What exactly am I feeling?’

’Betrayal?’

’Disappointment?’

’Grief?’

’Or have I suspected it for so long that hearing it out loud changes nothing?’

’But how am I supposed to sit here talking about myself while she’s still bleeding because of me?’

The answers remained hopelessly tangled somewhere beneath decades of family loyalty, resentment, and wounds he’d rather not examine.

In the end, he chose not to unravel them.

Instead, he picked up a spoonful of lobster bisque, blew gently across its surface, and held it toward her lips.

"Say ah."

Aren narrowed her eyes.

"You’re distracting me."

Her lips remained stubbornly closed.

A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of Caio’s mouth.

"I’m not distracting you."

The silence lasted less than two seconds before he released a long, defeated sigh.

"Fine. I am."

His gaze dropped.

"But I think... I’m still processing everything."

Aren’s voice softened.

"...Processing?"

"It shouldn’t surprise me," he admitted quietly. "I know exactly what kind of person my aunt is. But somehow..." His jaw tightened. "It still did."

A heavy silence settled between them.

Aren immediately felt a stab of guilt. The hurt beneath his composure was subtle, carefully concealed, yet unmistakably there.

Wanting to offer some comfort, she reached over and placed her hand over his, then opened her mouth obediently.

"...Ah."

A surprised laugh escaped Caio.

Some of the tension drained from his face as he guided the spoon to her lips.

"Good girl," he murmured.

Around them, dozens of hardened Sartori soldiers suddenly discovered fascinating things to stare at elsewhere.

The sight of their feared Don warmly feeding his lady in the middle of a massacre scene was somehow even more surreal than the massacre itself. Especially when the lady was still half-covered in blood, yet smiling as brightly as the sun.

A few minutes later, just as Aren finished the last bite of a brioche roll, Leo returned.

"Boss, we’ve got a few hours before the midnight deadline. Gael’s men might have spotted us by now. How do you want to proceed?"

Caio immediately shifted back into command mode.

"Send a small team to Liviana’s residence. Small enough not to attract attention. I don’t want Gael getting spooked. Secure her quietly and bring her back to the estate."

Leo nodded sharply.

"Understood. What about this location?"

A dangerous smile spread across Caio’s face.

"Prepare the main force," he said simply. "We’re going to visit that meatpacking plant now."

"Understood, Boss."

Leo pivoted immediately, already issuing instructions as capos gathered around him and began coordinating the operation.

Caio also rose, intending to join them, but a sudden tug stopped him. Looking down, he found Aren’s hand wrapped firmly around his.

"I’m coming with you," she said, her fingers tightening.

A mixture of affection and frustration crossed Caio’s face.

"My men can handle this." He brushed a hand gently through her hair. "You let the medics treat those wounds. Then you go home. I’ll send an escort."

"You hired me as your bodyguard," she argued. "I’m supposed to go with you."

"Not tonight." His voice softened. "Tonight, you’re off duty."

"But—"

"Aren."

The frustration in his voice lasted only a heartbeat.

The truth was painfully simple.

He would rather die than let her stand anywhere near his enemies tonight. Not after what had happened. He simply didn’t know how to make her understand that.

After a long pause, he lowered himself onto one knee in front of her, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"I promise I’ll come to your room when I get back."

Leaning forward, he pressed a soft kiss against her bruised cheek.

"Let the medics treat you properly. Seeing these injuries..." His voice roughened. "It makes me want to tear people apart."

Heat instantly flooded Aren’s face.

The kiss alone was enough. The look in his eyes made it worse.

It was the most vulnerable, pleading expression she had ever seen from him.

’But...’

’Should anything happen to him tonight, I’d regret it.’

’Better agree for now. Then deal with the consequences of his inevitable rage later.’

Quietly, she placed both hands on his shoulders. Without another word of protest, she leaned forward and kissed him.

Softly.

Directly on the lips.

"I promise I’ll let them treat everything properly," she whispered against him.

For a second, Caio simply stared at her.

Before long, a deeply satisfied smile spread across his face.

He slipped an arm around her waist and kissed her back, slower this time, pouring into it everything he couldn’t quite bring himself to say aloud.

"Don’t wait up for me," he murmured. "When you open your eyes tomorrow morning, I’ll be there."

Reluctantly, he pulled away from her to join his men, while several medics hurried over to begin treating her injuries.

Aren allowed the medics to tend to her swollen face, waiting until Caio disappeared through the doorway with the rest of the strike force. The moment he was gone, she waved a hand at one of the Sartori capos Caio had left behind to escort her back to the estate.

The older man hurried over, his expression respectful and attentive.

"Yes, my lady?" he asked. "Is there anything you need?"

Aren leaned closer, lowering her voice until only he could hear.

"Excuse me, mister," she said politely, "do you happen to have a spare sniper rifle with you?"

The composed look on the capo’s face vanished instantly. Alarm and outright disapproval flashed across his features.

"My lady, we were given strict orders to escort you safely back to the estate. The Boss would never allow it. I’d lose my rank... if not my head."

Aren remained calm, though no less stubborn.

"If anything happens to your Don, Gael Sartori and his men will seize control of House Sartori. Then you’ll lose both your rank and your life."

The man’s lips pressed into a thin line.

The logic was perfectly sound, but it didn’t ease his reluctance or concern. He leaned forward, making one last attempt to change her mind.

"But, my lady, you’ve already endured enough today. What if something happens to you? How are we supposed to explain that to the Don?"

A confident smile bloomed across Aren’s face.

"That’s precisely why I’m asking for a sniper rifle."