Every Mafia's Favorite Girl novel Chapter 66

Chapter 66: "White Peonies"

Meanwhile, Aren shared none of Jeremiah’s fantasies.

She listened in attentive silence, absently finishing the last spoonfuls of her gelato while sorting through everything he had told her.

’So... I just have to show up, dress nicely, avoid fighting anyone, and answer a few questions.’

’Though Don Caio will probably send someone to answer most of them for me.’

She paused, frowning slightly.

’But... this doesn’t really sound confidential enough to require a private meeting.’

’He practically announced the whole thing to the entire country already.’

Once she had processed everything, she looked up.

"So... was that everything you wanted to discuss with me?"

Jeremiah’s hand froze halfway to his mouth, his spoon suspended above the towering masterpiece of gelato.

A nearly imperceptible twitch flickered at his eyebrow.

’What do you mean, "was that everything"?!’

’I spent one full week planning every detail!’

The silent scream never escaped the prison of his immaculate smile. Instead, it widened by the smallest fraction as his mind scrambled to make the conversation sound more substantial.

"Well, yes," he said smoothly. "And... there’s also information about the first opponent you’re going to face. You’ll be meeting him at the press conference as well."

Aren’s eyes lit up immediately.

"Ah! You mean his name? His statistics?" Leaning forward, she added eagerly, "Do you happen to have recordings of his previous fights too?"

Jeremiah suddenly felt the faintest bead of sweat forming beneath her intense gaze.

"Well..." He cleared his throat delicately. "If you’d like, I can certainly retrieve them and send them to you immediately."

"Wonderful!"

Aren rose from her seat so abruptly that Jeremiah nearly dropped his spoon.

"Mister Castellano, may I make a suggestion?"

Jeremiah blinked up at her.

"W-What... what suggestion?"

"Next time," she said, lifting a finger, "just send an email."

Jeremiah blinked again.

Then again.

Aren continued before he had the chance to respond.

"An email informing me of the date, time, and location, with all the relevant files and footage attached. I believe that would be a much more efficient way to communicate."

Jeremiah stared at her in silence.

Slowly, he lowered his gelato onto the table.

"Lady Ariana."

He swallowed down his pride.

"Of course I could send an email. But don’t you find it pleasant that... you know... we can sit down together and enjoy gelato while discussing business?"

"I do enjoy the time," Aren admitted with a sharp nod. "But I recall you mentioning earlier how incredibly busy you are."

She began counting on her fingers.

"Photoshoots. Spa appointments. And... yoga classes?"

Looking back at him with genuine concern, she added,

"I simply wanted to help you manage your time more efficiently."

With that, she gathered the two pastry boxes into her arms and stepped away from the table.

"If there is nothing else, then I’ll excuse myself now."

Jeremiah remained exactly where he was, blinking rapidly at her.

Completely defeated.

’Fucking hell.’

’I never should’ve made up that excuse just to get rid of that maid.’

He watched in mounting despair as Aren headed toward the exit. Then, just as suddenly, she stopped and turned around so sharply that Jeremiah nearly flinched a second time.

"Wait a moment!"

She marched back to the table with renewed determination.

"There is still something I’d like to ask you."

Jeremiah recovered with astonishing speed. His charming smile returned as though it had never left.

"Of course, my lady," he gestured invitingly. "You may ask me absolutely anything."

Aren wasted no time.

"Do you know a great deal about flowers?"

Jeremiah stalled.

"...Flowers?"

Aren nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes. And the meanings behind them."

She scratched her cheek nervously.

"Earlier I heard you ordering so many exotic flowers I’d never even heard of. I thought perhaps you’re something of an expert."

At last, Jeremiah understood where this was coming from. Leaning elegantly against his hand, he slipped effortlessly back into the role of charming connoisseur.

"Flowers and beautiful things happen to be among my passions. Go ahead, my lady. Ask away."

Aren immediately leaned forward.

"What is the meaning of white peonies?"

Jeremiah frowned ever so slightly.

"White peonies?"

"Yes." Aren nodded eagerly. "The white flowers with lots and lots of petals."

Jeremiah looked at her with open amusement, a smirk tugging at his lips. Of all the flowers she could have chosen, she had asked about one he personally considered rather... conservative.

’Have I completely misjudged her?’

’Is she actually drawn to... boring things?’

Even so, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, making a show of considering the question.

"They’re rather fascinating flowers. I would associate them with shyness, bashfulness, and... unspoken affection."

Aren frowned.

"Unspoken... affection?"

Jeremiah nodded confidently.

"In old folklore, mischievous nymphs were said to hide themselves within peony blossoms."

’I didn’t understand all of that...’

’But... that sounds a little like my situation.’

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