Lahat ng Kabanata ng Running From The Mafia CEO: Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

Maya “Maybe he’s not so terrible after all. I mean…” Andrew clears his throat with an awkward chuckle, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. “I figured there had to be a reason they brought in a relative instead of one of the biological sons.”I purse my lips and let out a small, frustrated breath, wishing he’d learned to read a room. Or a car, in this case.He’s behind the wheel, driving us back to the office, and I haven’t had a single moment of silence since we walked out of the Moretti building.I knew Andrew was easily swayed. I just hadn’t realized it only took one carefully chosen sentence—one gentle stroke to his ego—to completely rewrite his convictions.“I had my suspicions,” he continues, sounding more confident, “that there was something missing. But it was right there—” he taps the wheel, punches it lightly, for emphasis, “—hiding underneath our noses.”Are you saying Moretti is clean?” I murmur, more to myself than to him, my gaze fixed on the passing city beyond th

Maya “Jenna? Jenna?”I blink suddenly, snapping out of my thoughts at the sound of something clicking in front of my face. I shut my eyes for a half-second as my vision doubles. When I open my eyes again, Andrew’s face is inches away from mine, his eyebrows close to being a unibrow. “What?” I ask. He sighs impatiently as he moves away, taking his place on the chair in front of my desk. I had no idea he was in my office. When did he walk in? Oh well, I muse with a half-shrug as I take in his worried expression. I don’t care. I have more pressing issues to worry about, other than the disgruntled opinion that must’ve brought him here. Like—“They’re calling it off.”“Huh,” I mutter absentmindedly, my thoughts going back to the text messages—the words that have taken up my entire existence and haunted my waking mind. “I see.”“You see?” Andrew leans in, hands slapping flat on my desk. I frown, my mouth dipping to one side, but I don’t comment. I’d hate for him to think I’m interest

LucienThe intercom lights up, and a flicker of anticipation tightens in my chest as I glance at it.“Gentlemen,” I say mildly, turning back to the men framed on my laptop screen, “we’ll have to continue this discussion another time. I have more…pressing matters to attend to.”“You should come over,” one of them says with a smile. “My wife would love to host you. Though fair warning,” he adds with a chuckle, “she’s already planning to matchmake you. It’s her favorite pastime.”I don’t let the smile leave my face, even as it threatens to falter. My mouth twitches into a light laugh. “I’ll consider the invitation. Thank you.”The call ends. I shut the laptop, and my expression hardens into a scowl.I have no interest in being matched with anyone or indulging in polite conversation at all.The only reason these men are willing to do business with Moretti is that they believe the terms will favor them, because the man in charge is the son who once went to prison.A son desperate for redem

“You seem to have a preconcieved notion of who I am and what I want, Mr. Black,” she bristles, her posture tightening. “I love my job and I understand what it means to be content, unlike you. The only reason I haven’t left your office or…” she bites her tongue, glancing aside briefly with a tensed exhale. She takes a deep breath, before turning away with a smile that slices across the desk with frigid politeness. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve accepted your offer. I’ll need time, as I said, to turn in my resignation letter and handover my duties.” “I’ll email your office with a list of my requirments to be included in the contract,” she adds as she stands briskly, brushing invisible lint off her dress. “If you have any objections, I’d prefer we communicate them via email, so as to reduce any friction when–” her throat works for a minute, the corner of her mouth twitching as she shakes her head, reluctant to continue.” The twist in my chest returns, with a feeling that is…unexpected. Not

Maya “Miss Carr.”I slow at the sound of my name, glancing over my shoulder. A man stands a few feet away, dressed casually, one hand lifted in a polite wave. As he approaches, his mouth curves into an easy, practiced smile—the kind meant to disarm.It doesn’t.As far as I’m concerned, I’m standing squarely in enemy territory.“Miss Carr,” he says again, extending his hand. “I’m Jamie Torres.”I look at his hand before lifting my gaze to his face, one brow arching in silent question.“Oh.” He lets out a light laugh, shaking his head. “Sorry. I should’ve started properly.”Right.“I’m Mr. Black’s personal assistant.”My shoulders stiffen instantly, my spine going rigid at the name. I offer a tight, noncommittal smile. “I see.”He catches the shift in my demeanor and retracts his hand with a nervous chuckle. “Mr. Black asked me to welcome you to the company. He’s out dealing with…delicate matters, so I’ll be handling your onboarding.”I tilt my head, studying him more carefully now. “I