Every Mafia's Favorite Girl novel Chapter 149

Chapter 149: "Let’s Go Get Changed"

Aren smiled at him immediately, eager to show him how much better she felt.

"Yes, I did. I feel much better now. The drugs took effect really quickly. I’m not even shaking anymore."

Her attention immediately fell to the uniform. With Caio’s help, she slowly pushed herself upright, her movements still somewhat sluggish as she lifted each piece in turn.

"Oh, it’s sleeveless, and all white?" she asked, curiosity flickering across her face.

Jordan nodded.

"Yeah, all white. It’ll make it much easier to detect if any of the three of us takes a cut during the fight."

Then, almost as though he had suddenly remembered something embarrassing, he looked away. A flush crept across his face as he scratched awkwardly at the back of his head.

"I... didn’t know your exact size for your... um..." He cleared his throat, his ears growing steadily redder. "Your undergarments. So... I, uh..." He swallowed. "I picked them based on... well, my measurements of your frame."

Aren, meanwhile, seemed completely oblivious to his embarrassment. Her face brightened as she lifted the panties and fitted sports bra to examine them herself.

"Ah, I think this size is perfect!"

She turned the pieces over in her hands, then briefly held them against herself to judge the fit, entirely unaware that the sight was making Jordan even more flustered.

Once she was satisfied, she beamed at him.

"Thank you, Jordan! I think they’re perfect."

Jordan’s ears looked as though they might burn to coal.

"You... uh... you’re welcome."

Caio was easily the most irritated by the exchange. He raised one judging brow at the thoroughly flustered young man, amusement flickering beneath his otherwise composed expression.

’Turns out this punk acts tough and all, but he’s a complete amateur.’

’He probably doesn’t even know how to touch a woman properly.’

’I’m entirely at an advantage here.’

Amused by his own thoughts, Caio turned toward Aren and deliberately lowered his voice, letting it settle into something quieter and more intimate.

"You’re still not at your peak recovery yet. Shall I help you get changed? It’s about time you got out of those soaked clothes."

Jordan froze.

His head turned toward Caio so quickly that Aren almost looked up in surprise.

’You helping her get changed...?’

’Say what now?!’

’No fucking way!’

He opened his mouth, already prepared to protest, but Aren had nodded before he could get a word out.

"...Okay."

She looked down at her still-weakened body.

"Let’s get changed. I’ve been dying to get out of these."

Every protest died in Jordan’s throat.

He inhaled sharply, forcing down the shout that had nearly escaped, before releasing a long, irritated breath.

’Right.’

’They’re obviously already that close. Who am I to object to that?’

Even so, the irritation lingered stubbornly beneath his forced composure.

’Fucking opportunistic bastard.’

’You just wait and see, Caio Sartori. One day, I’m going to be the one helping her change.’

The moment the thought formed, several distinctly inappropriate images flashed through his mind.

His face burned even hotter.

Unwilling to let the embarrassment — or the jealousy — show too clearly, he stepped aside at once and pointed toward the doors at the corner of the room.

"There are recovery rooms over there," he said, each word sounding strained. "You can... get changed in there. I’ll wait outside. Take your time."

He turned away abruptly and walked straight toward a chair against the wall, his posture stiff with barely contained irritation.

Caio watched him go, a faintly victorious smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Then, without another word, he slipped one arm beneath Aren’s knees and the other around her back, lifting her carefully into his arms along with the uniform resting across her lap.

"Let’s go get changed, then."

─ •✧• ─ ✿ ─ •✧• ─

The recovery room was simple, furnished with little more than a single bed layered with pillows and blankets. A neat stack of towels rested on the bedside drawer, ready for anyone who needed them.

As soon as Caio closed the door behind them, he guided Aren gently onto the bed and shrugged off his suit jacket.

Carefully, he helped her out of her soaked clothes until she was completely naked, then set the drenched garments aside.

Even though Caio had seen her like this many times by now, Aren still couldn’t suppress the self-consciousness that came with being exposed.

She immediately reached for the blanket, intending to hide herself beneath it, but Caio caught her hand before she could pull it over herself.

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