Every Mafia's Favorite Girl novel Chapter 11

Chapter 11: "Okie!"

Aren’s expression turned troubled.

"Ah, the terms... I don’t think it would be right of me to share the details of a private briefing with a third party."

Isidore finally looked up from the tablet. His green eyes settled on her, voice cold and absolute.

"I’m not signing with people I can’t trust."

Aren’s voice grew softer, quiet yet resolved. "Then I’m afraid I can’t sign a contract with you. Loyalty to a client is very important."

"I offered your House the highest bid among three Houses," Isidore countered flatly. "A billion dollars and interest-free loans for future restoration."

Aren stood from her seat and bowed.

"I apologize for wasting your time, Mister Accardi. I shall take my leave now."

One of Isidore’s brows shifted upward by perhaps a millimeter.

A dramatic reaction, by his standards.

’No bargaining.’

His gaze followed her calmly as she walked toward the door.

’No hesitation either.’

"Come on, Biscuit, let’s go," Aren called.

The dog immediately rose from the corner and trotted after her. Just as her hand touched the door handle—

"Signorina."

Isidore’s voice cut through the room with sudden authority.

Aren paused and looked back at him.

"Sit."

He gestured toward the chair.

Aren studied his face for a moment. He no longer looked interested in extracting information about the Sartori contract. More importantly, he looked... reasonable again.

A small smile returned to her face as she returned to the chair.

"Thank you," she said warmly. "I appreciate your understanding regarding confidentiality."

Biscuit, however, shared none of Aren’s optimism. The little dog returned to the farthest corner of the office and sat down, his back pointed toward Isidore.

Isidore gave the dog no mind. He set the tablet aside and brought his hands together atop the desk, fingers slowly interlacing.

For the first time since Aren had entered the room, she had his full, undivided attention.

"My terms," he began.

His words came cold and fast, delivered with the rapid-fire precision of a machine gun.

"House Accardi wants House Ombra eliminated. They hold leverage over every other House through their intelligence network. I want their secrets acquired and their network absorbed. You will be my operative. You will meet me on a scheduled basis. You will address me as Master Accardi only."

He paused for the briefest second, scanning her face for any sign of hesitation before continuing.

"You are serving three contracts. That means divided focus. I am reducing the fee to the baseline of five hundred million. Is that fair?"

Aren listened to every of his word with rapt attention. For the first time since she had woken up in this world, a quiet joy bloomed in her chest.

Unlike the Sartori client, who spoke in confusing riddles of "intimacy" and "memories," this client spoke a language she understood perfectly: mission structures, clear objectives, and a strict chain of command.

Without hesitation, Aren replied with the standard affirmative she had used for a hundred briefings before:

"Okie!"

Then, remembering his requirement, she snapped her spine even straighter:

"Master Accardi!"

She gave him a wide, attentive smile.

Isidore, for his part, flinched on the spot.

"?????????????"

It was a microscopic movement, but his glasses dropped a millimeter lower on the bridge of his nose. Aren didn’t notice.

’Okie?’ his mind recoiled.

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