Every Mafia's Favorite Girl novel Chapter 27

Chapter 27: "Pretend This Is A Different Species"

It was not unusual for the staff of the Sartori estate to see their Don return home covered in blood.

The guards at the gates had seen it before.

The servants had cleaned it before.

Caio Sartori stepping out of a car with blood on his hands barely qualified as noteworthy anymore.

Ariana Lombardi emerging beside him with blood soaking through the sleeve of her dress, however, nearly stopped the entire entrance staff’s hearts.

As always, Mrs. Pecora stood at the estate entrance when the car pulled over. The moment she saw the blood staining Aren’s sleeve, her composure visibly fractured.

"My lady—"

She recovered almost instantly. Her head snapped toward the servants nearby, who were all frozen in shock.

"Emergency kit. Now! Someone call Doctor Capello!"

The staff scattered at once, but the sharp slam of a car door cut through the courtyard, stopping everyone cold.

"No need to call Doctor Capello," Caio said as he climbed the stairs.

Mrs. Pecora turned toward him carefully.

"Sir, Lady Ariana is injured—"

"I’ll handle it myself."

His voice was calm. Far too calm.

Mrs. Pecora had served the Sartori estate long enough to recognize exactly what that tone meant:

Caio was seconds away from violence.

She lowered her head immediately.

"...Understood, sir."

Meanwhile, Aren looked mildly confused by the panic unfolding around her.

"It really is minor," she tried to reassure them. "The bullet only touched me briefly."

Several servants looked horrified hearing that sentence spoken so casually.

Caio shot her a sharp look.

"Inside. Now."

Aren lowered her gaze, lips pulling out into a tiny pout.

’Don Caio is under high stress again.’

She followed without another word.

Not long afterward, she found herself seated in one of the guest living rooms near the west wing. Next to her, an emergency medical kit sat open on the coffee table.

Caio sat directly across from Aren, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. Several servants lingered nearby, pretending not to stare as he worked on her wound.

Antiseptic.

Needle.

Fresh gauze.

His hands remained perfectly steady the entire time.

Aren sat just as still.

The antiseptic touched the torn graze along her arm, yet she didn’t even flinch. No reaction whatsoever as the needle dove into her torn skin.

Caio noticed that immediately. His brow tightened further with every stitch.

’Does she even feel pain properly?’

The thought unsettled him more than he cared to admit.

Near the doorway, one maid looked increasingly pale the longer she watched. Another winced on Aren’s behalf every time Caio pulled the thread taut.

Meanwhile, Aren watched him work with quiet fascination. Once he finally secured the clean bandage around her arm, she lowered her gaze to inspect it thoughtfully.

"You’re really good at this."

Caio discarded the bloodied gauze into the tray.

"I’ve had enough experience."

Aren tilted her head.

"Because of the assassination attempts?"

Caio’s hands paused for the briefest second, then continued moving again.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he looked her in the eye, voice tightening with unmistakable authority.

"You are to rest until this heals."

Aren blinked.

"No more events requiring your attendance," he continued firmly. "And absolutely no patrolling around my estate before sunrise."

Aren looked genuinely puzzled.

"This is a minor wound. It doesn’t affect surveillance duty and can easily be concealed beneath long sleeves."

Caio’s patience visibly thinned.

"That is not the point."

His voice sharpened enough to make several servants startle. Aren lowered her gaze reluctantly again, trying very hard to understand what she had said wrong.

Seeing the confused look on her face, Caio exhaled slowly through his nose before abruptly turning toward the room.

"Out. Leave us."

No one hesitated. Within seconds, the room emptied entirely, the doors closing quietly behind the last maid.

Silence settled heavily across the living room. Caio stayed quiet for a moment, trying to gather what little remained of his patience.

’Calm down.’

’She’s a mercenary.’

’She literally said she came from another world.’

’Pretend this is a different species.’

’An alien.’

He forced his voice back under control before speaking again.

"Aren."

She looked up at him immediately.

"You are an asset," he said slowly. "An asset I acquired for five hundred million dollars."

Aren listened attentively.

"I’m not going to let you be reckless with your body," he continued. "And when I tell you to rest, you’re going to listen."

Aren fell quiet.

Caio could practically see the processing happening behind her eyes. Eventually, she let out a thoughtful hum.

"...Hmm."

’Mother of God.’

’Don Caio is very gentle.’

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