Every Mafia's Favorite Girl novel Chapter 124

Chapter 124: "Promise You Won’t Yell At Me?"

Jordan learned about the sniper only after he had driven Aren back to the Sartori estate.

The revelation came from a passing guard in the parking lot.

"Young Boss, aren’t you coming to the interrogation of the sniper they caught inside the obstacle course?"

Jordan stopped in his tracks.

"...What sniper?"

The guard blinked, visibly surprised.

"Oh, you didn’t know? Mister Oscar caught the guy when he tried to escape. He’s interrogating him now."

Jordan asked no further questions.

For a heartbeat, all he could hear was the echo of his own memory — a rifle barrel, the metallic glint, the split-second hesitation during his run.

’So it wasn’t an automated turret after all.’

’It was real.’

A heavy weight of guilt settled over him like lead. Without another word, he turned sharply and strode down the corridor toward Security Control.

He never made it.

As he rounded the next corner, Ricci appeared from the opposite direction, looking as though he had rushed straight out of the workshop.

"Young Boss!" Ricci hurried over. "I’ve been looking everywhere for you. We need to talk. Please, give me a minute!"

Jordan barely slowed.

"What is it, Ricci? I’m in a hurry."

Ricci reached for his sleeve.

"No, this is more serious than anything else demanding your attention!"

Jordan frowned.

"What could possibly be more serious than a security failure? There was a sniper hidden inside the First Round obstacle course, Ricci. He wasn’t caught until after Ariana finished her run."

Ricci froze.

"...Well. That... does sound very serious."

Jordan stepped around him.

"It is. So don’t stop me. I’ve got to find out who planted that bastard and get this sorted before tomorrow."

The instant Jordan tried to pass, Ricci darted directly into his path, planting both palms against Jordan’s chest to stop him.

"Hey! Hey, no, wait! I promise you this is every bit as serious. The ammunition box you were supposed to use! It wasn’t dropped. It was deliberately sabotaged!"

Jordan finally halted.

"...What are you talking about?"

Ricci immediately grabbed his sleeve and guided him into a secluded alcove between two storage rooms.

"After you left for your run, I took that ammunition box back to the workshop."

Jordan frowned.

"Why?"

Ricci scratched his beard sheepishly.

"Honestly? At first, it was just curiosity. Lady Ariana insisted the box should be swapped because she’d seen it get dropped. I couldn’t understand it. How could dropping a cardboard box possibly affect the rounds inside? So I scanned one. And I found that the internal core had shifted slightly off-center."

Jordan’s eyes narrowed.

"A bullet’s core shifting because the box was dropped? That’s impossible."

Ricci nearly threw both hands into the air.

"That’s exactly what I thought! So I scanned another cartridge. Same result! Then another. And another. The entire box! Every single round had its core shifted by almost the exact same amount!"

Jordan felt the blood slowly drain from his face.

"...You’re saying... the whole box was defective?"

Ricci almost exploded.

"Yes! God, yes! The box wasn’t dropped at all. Somebody sabotaged it! And somehow — somehow — Lady Ariana figured that out before anyone else!"

Jordan leaned back until his shoulders met the wall. For several long moments, he simply stood there, trying to absorb everything Ricci had said.

Someone had deliberately sabotaged his performance. The realization ignited immediate anger, but beneath that anger lay something that hurt even more:

Ariana had realized the ammunition was compromised, and instead of telling him, she had quietly solved the problem herself.

’...It’s as though she doesn’t trust me enough to tell me something this important.’

Jordan closed his eyes for the briefest moment before looking back at Ricci.

"Do you have any idea where those rounds came from?"

Ricci nodded grimly.

"I ran every test I could. The metallurgy. The machining tolerances. The ballistic specifications. Everything points back to one place."

Jordan already knew the answer before it came.

"Our workshops?"

"I’m afraid so."

At once, Jordan pushed himself away from the wall and headed back down the corridor.

Behind him, Ricci blinked in surprise before hurrying after him.

"Young Boss! Wait! Where are you going?"

Without breaking stride, Jordan answered over his shoulder.

"I need to talk to Oscar."

─ •✧• ─ ✿ ─ •✧• ─

Oscar sat inside the interrogation room with both arms folded tightly across his chest, his lips set in an unmistakable pout.

He was still furious.

’Hmph!’

’I ran all the way back to make sure she was safe, and Miss Lombardi just went home without even saying goodbye!’

The thought only deepened his sulk.

Across the metal table, the captured sniper shifted uneasily beneath Oscar’s glare, his wrists restrained and his wounded shoulder heavily bandaged.

Unfortunately for him, Oscar had no intention of keeping that frustration to himself.

His palm slammed onto the steel tabletop with a deafening crack.

BANG!

The sniper nearly jumped out of his chair.

"Speak!" Oscar barked, pointing dramatically at him. "Who planted you inside the course? Who gave you the job?"

The sniper kept his mouth firmly shut.

Oscar leaned forward.

"Oh, so we’re playing the silent hero now?"

He folded his arms again, squinting suspiciously.

"...Do you eat pineapple on pizza?"

The sniper blinked.

"What?"

Oscar jabbed an accusing finger at him.

"Aha! You answered that one! So you can talk!"

Several Marchetti soldiers standing along the walls quietly lowered their heads.

One pinched the bridge of his nose. Another stared very intently at the opposite wall, pretending he had heard absolutely nothing.

The sniper looked utterly bewildered.

"I... I..."

Oscar slammed the table again.

"Wrong answer!"

"I didn’t even—"

"Exactly! You didn’t even say anything yet!"

The soldiers exchanged helpless glances.

’Mister Oscar...’

’That’s not how interrogations work...’

Before Oscar could launch into another line of questioning, hurried footsteps echoed outside.

The door burst open.

"Mister Oscar! The Young Boss is here to see you."

Oscar immediately straightened.

"Perfect! I was just about to go find him anyway."

Without another glance at the thoroughly confused sniper, Oscar strode toward the door.

The moment the interrogation room door opened—

A hand shot forward.

Jordan grabbed Oscar by the collar.

’...Oh, no.’

’Did he figure it out somehow?’

"Look... it all started yesterday when Miss Lombardi and I were heading to the gym. We accidentally overheard Natalia and Nazario talking. Natalia handed Nazario the sabotaged ammunition. She said she’d already arranged for the inventory tags to be mixed up as well, so nobody would notice him swapping your box."

He hesitated before quietly adding,

"Natalia also admitted she’d planted the sniper. Her plan was to ruin your performance... and kill Miss Lombardi."

For several long moments, Jordan said nothing. One piece after another quietly settled into place until everything finally began to fit together.

While Nazario’s involvement barely surprised him — he and Nazario were never close to begin with — the truth about Natalia pierced him deeper than he cared to admit.

He should have seen it coming. The motivation behind her actions was plain to see.

Yet, a part of him still quietly mourned the version of her that lived now only in his memory, back when he had actually considered her a friend.

Unwilling to let the tangled emotions pull him under, he exhaled slowly through his nose.

"...Ariana knew all of this?"

Oscar nodded.

"Yeah. She came up with all the plans to stop them."

"And neither of you thought to tell me?"

Oscar immediately threw both hands into the air.

"Like you’d have believed us! We had zero evidence! Even now, if we went to Father, how would we prove any of it?"

Jordan fell silent.

His father had been pushing for his marriage to Natalia for years. Without proof, any accusation against House Porto’s heiress would ignite a political disaster.

Oscar sighed.

"See? No chance."

Jordan rubbed thoughtfully at his chin.

"What else did you hear? The rest of Natalia’s plans. I know her well enough to know that if she prepared something for the first round, she’s already prepared something for the second."

Oscar shifted awkwardly.

"Well... it’s... kind of risky. You promise you won’t yell at me?"

"I’m already yelling at you."

Oscar took a deep breath.

"...Fair enough. We think Natalia’s going to have Nazario work together with several soldiers who qualified. They’ll corner you inside the Dark Room and force you out. So Miss Lombardi came up with another plan."

His expression turned slightly guilty.

"I’m supposed to take a few guys we trust, go through the maintenance tunnels, and sneak into the maze. We’ll knock out as many guys as we can and then retreat as fast as possible."

Jordan stared at him.

"...Oscar. Are you completely insane? What happens if you’re caught?"

Oscar shrugged.

"Go complain to Miss Lombardi. It was her idea. She said it’d be pitch black inside for the first ten minutes. If nobody talks, no one will know who anyone is."

For several moments, Jordan considered the proposal.

’...Logically speaking...’

’It balances the ambush.’

At length, he gave a single nod.

"...It’s not a terrible plan. On one condition."

Oscar’s eyes widened.

"What is it?"

"The moment you’ve neutralized whoever’s attacking us, you leave the maze immediately."

Oscar grinned.

"Deal."

"Good."

Jordan paused before continuing.

"But there’s something else I need you to do."

Oscar blinked.

Jordan almost never entrusted him with serious responsibilities. The realization instantly brightened his face.

"What is it? I’ll do anything!"

Jordan looked directly into his eyes.

"I need you to investigate Natalia Porto. I need to know how she gained influence over so many Marchetti soldiers and how she obtained access to our workshops."