She Rejected the Mafia Heir, He Went Crazy Chapter 03

She Rejected the Mafia Heir, He Went Crazy Chapter 03

I tucked the form into a folder. “Nothing.”

He was about to press further, but his phone buzzed. He glanced at it, said it was time for his Uber Eats shift, and left.

I picked up the tablet. The messages had synced. Sure enough, the girl had texted him: “Leo, it’s raining. Can you come pick me up?”

He replied: “On my way.”

My fingers tightened. In the end, I got up and followed him.

After going downstairs, he didn’t leave the complex right away. Instead, he turned into the underground garage of the building across the street. A few minutes later, a black Mercedes pulled out. Leonardo rolled down the window to flick out his cigarette ash. On his wrist, a red woven bracelet.

The one I made for him.

My eyes locked on the license plate: VTL·6666. My fingers suddenly clenched my shirt. I recognized this car.

About a week ago, I was biking home in a downpour, soaked to the bone and shivering, a complete mess. I saw this car pulling into the complex. I looked at it and felt genuinely envious. If only I had a car. It doesn’t have to be a Mercedes. Just something to keep me dry.

When Leonardo got home, I mentioned it. Just making conversation. But he looked at me strangely. “You want one too?”

I laughed as I dried my hair. “Of course. It’s a Mercedes. Who wouldn’t?”

He didn’t say anything else. He went to the kitchen to cook. I sensed he was in a bad mood. I asked, but he said he was just tired from work.

That night, in the middle of the night, I came down with a fever from being in the rain. Leonardo got up to take care of me. Half-asleep, he suddenly asked, “Emily, do you want a Mercedes?”

I woke up a little. The Leonardo I knew was an orphan whose parents had died, who’d made it on his own. He valued money but was generous with me. I thought my joke had put pressure on him, so I immediately held his hand and said sincerely, “I’d rather have a boyfriend who gets up in the middle of the night to take care of me.”

He looked moved. He kissed my forehead and said, “Emily, you’ll have both.”

I didn’t take it seriously. I just took it as comfort. Now I know he had the means. He just never showed me.

Maybe that day, when I was drenched and miserable, he watched me from his car. But when I talked about it, he could look me in the eye and act innocent. He could even make me feel guilty for pressuring him.

I really wanted to ask him. What were you thinking then? That I was stupid? Or were you just proud of your brilliant performance?

I thought I could stay calm. But the sting of my nails digging into my palm reminded me I’d overestimated myself.

The tablet’s iMessage had the address the girl sent Leonardo. But I didn’t have the strength to follow. I turned around, went home, and finished the application.

Leonardo came back at ten-thirty. He handed me a bag of pizza. “Customer canceled. Waste not, want not. We’ll share.”

I thought of the post she’d made tonight—Leonardo had taken her to a thousand-dollar omakase. And he fobbed me off with a ten-dollar pizza.

I lost my appetite completely. I said I wasn’t hungry, walked past him, and went to bed.