◆ The Falco Empire ◆
◆ MILES ◆
"Magnus called me again. He wants your number."
"Why?"
"My guess?" Niccolo sighed on the other line. "He's gonna try to convince you to send Kel's new address and number."
Persistent son of a bitch. "Tell him I'm too busy for his bullshit." I shook my head and put my phone on speaker, sitting alongside stacks of paperwork in front of the wide desk, all alone in my mother's office. Privacy wasn't an issue in here, and she was stuck in another meeting in the conference room upstairs.
"Already did. He badly wants Ilya's money; he's not gonna stop till he finds Kel."
"Magnus tried to bribe you again?"
"Yeah. Twice now," Niccolo replied, chuckling as though he found the whole thing amusing.
"Where's Ilya now?"
"Still in Belgrade. Getting treatment. His liver's shutting down. He needs a transplant this week."
"You called him up?" I grinned to myself. "And said your last goodbyes?"
"Nah. I'm busy with something."
"They find out yet? That Ricchar paid the girl?"
"No. Magnus said one of Ilya's mistresses ran off. Not sure if it's the girl who tried to off him. But the descriptions fit."
"D'you need more money?"
"No." Niccolo scoffed. "I need sleep. And peace and quiet."
"Fine. G'night."
He yawned out loud. "Remind Kel to stop using her real name online."
"Call her. Or just text her. I'm working."
"Whatever."
◆
"They still think I know where he is."
"Why? Who's asking?" I looked up from the thick pile of documents I held.
Fresh from another management meeting I deliberately avoided, Mamma sighed loudly and flumped down in the jet-black swivel chair behind the CEO's desk.
"Zio Mauro?"
"And everyone else," she muttered with a feeble shake of her head, her manicured hand covering half of her smooth forehead.
"Maybe Pappa owes them a couple mil. Or swindled 'em during poker." I snickered.
"Well," she sighed. "Not like it's the first time."
"Archambault and Ricchar's lawyer struck another deal."
"What kind?"
"Dunno. Ask his lawyer."
"I'll talk to Cloe later." Mamma hastily unbuttoned her gilded blazer and slapped it onto her desk. "We need a new COO."
"So hire one." I flipped to another page, yawning and pretending to give a shit about this wordiest contract I'd ever read my entire life. It was for Luxoria's newly hired employees. "Charr loves being the doting daddy," I muttered, forcing a laugh. "Give it a few weeks. Then he's not gonna show up for work anymore."
"I know." Mamma chuckled. "We need to train Artur soon. Or Amara."
"Whoever's more ambitious and less family-oriented," I quipped. Amara would be the better choice, though, my older cousin who's basically Ricchar's female version.
"How're you feeling, dear?"
"Like shit." I tossed the folder of documents onto the table.
Withdrawal from the uppers I used to waste my money on was plaguing me with exhaustion and restlessness. Plus the toddler-like attention span and an insatiable appetite some days. The only upside: I didn't have to stay in a rehab facility 24/7.
"You need pain pills again?" Mamma got up from her chair to comb my hair away from my face.
I used to be ticklish whenever she fixed my hair with her hands. But weaning off the drugs I used to enjoy on a regular basis now gave me another thing to deal with: anhedonia. Probably why I felt like sleeping all day lately. "Not really."
"Get enough sleep?"
"I'll only sleep well if Leandro and Ignazio get life in the slammer. And if your piece of shit ex-husband dies a slow, painful death." Probably not gonna happen in this lifetime, but I still hoped.
The psycho and his creepy uncle of course were backed up by a slew of high-ranking officials. Ergo, both of them might get a very sweet deal for pleading guilty to minor drug trafficking charges. Good thing Enzo agreed to testify against them for their crimes. Only then would those trafficked minors and abused sex workers get the justice they deserved. And all their dirt-poor, murdered drug mules would finally rest in peace.
"Happiness is a cookie that your brain bakes for itself." Mamma leaned on the edge of desk, fastidiously picking some bread crumbs off my wrinkled sleeve. "Joscha Bach, computer scientist."
"Who?"
"Whenever I struggle to get out of bed, I repeat those words to myself."
"Sounds like something Mykaela would say." I sighed and grabbed another thick folder.
"How's she doing?" Mamma smiled, her hazel eyes focused on my face. "Miss her a lot, don't you?"
"Fine. Busy with their clinicals and electives."
"You still talk on the phone often?"
"Often enough."
"Invite her and her family to your birthday. Fetch them before that weekend. Use the jet."
◆
"How'd you find out? Charr told you?" I reclined in my seat and hid my scowl with my fist. "Or Cloe?"
"You really have to ask?" Mamma scoffed and gave me another sardonic grin before returning to her swivel chair.
I just told her about the possibility of Mykaela and I being blood-related. Distant cousins, like Magnus said. Kel's cocky billionaire half-brother seemed convinced it was a matter of fact. I also told Mamma that I broke things off with Kel.
Some nights I just lay awake in bed still thinking about the what-ifs, convincing myself that we're better off as friends. But I knew I chose the right thing to do. At the end of the day, her happiness and future mattered more to me. And it wasn't like I was dying to be in a relationship so I could get married and make babies anytime soon.
No thanks. Besides, Enzo's surely chasing her around by now. He'd better not fuck up the chance I gave him on a silver platter.
"Bambino, things don't always work out as planned. No matter how hard you try." Mamma put on her specs and grabbed a pen, about to start signing some paperwork. "But it doesn't mean you just stop seeking the happiness and contentment you want."
Great. Now we're back to mooting unsolicited relationship advice. I kept my mouth shut and pretended to be busy reading through another contract draft.
"For now, you two just need to work things out by yourselves."
"Right."
"She's too focused on her goals right now. And you need to figure out yours while fixing your health."
Yep. Right on the nose. Like always.
"We just want the best for you, dear." Mamma put on a smile that thinned her beige lips, her silky blouse as slick as her motivational pep talk. "Because we all love you more than you give yourself credit."
◆
