Every Mafia's Favorite Girl novel Chapter 86

Chapter 86: "Ride Together"

Jordan sat alone on one of the sofas in the sitting room, his gaze drifting absently beyond the tall windows.

Outside, the mellow afternoon sun bathed the estate grounds in warm golden light, but none of it reached the heaviness settled inside his chest.

The past week had been miserable.

Ever since the incident at the restaurant last Monday, every accidental encounter with Sofia around the Marchetti estate had been painfully awkward.

If that wasn’t enough, Eduardo had continued lecturing him at every opportunity about coming to the Sartori estate personally.

In the end, Jordan had still managed to escape the Marchetti compound today, armed with a collection of perfectly reasonable excuses that he’d invented on the spot.

Even so, the more he thought about the mystery called Ariana Lombardi, the more other questions refused to leave him alone.

’Is she really who she seems to be?’

’Is she truly worth turning against my own family for?’

Every rumor that had reached his ears over the past miserable week — every whispered story involving her, Isidore Accardi and the scandal at the Accardi Tower — had answered with ruthless consistency.

’No.’

His fists tightened against his knees.

’God, I don’t even know anymore.’

’I have to ask her about that damned rumor today.’

The storm in his mind lasted only until the sound of approaching footsteps echoed down the corridor. Then came the unmistakable crunch of enthusiastic chewing and a warm, familiar voice he recognized instantly.

"Jordan, good afternoon."

Jordan stiffened.

When he turned, the first thing he noticed was Biscuit nestled comfortably in Aren’s arms, blissfully occupied with a dog treat and looking as though he hadn’t a single worry in the world.

Trailing closely behind them, one of the younger maids carried an entire pouch of dog treats against her apron.

Somewhere during the unexpected delay, she had secured emergency rations before Biscuit could escalate his growing hunger into a full-scale strike.

For the briefest instant, the corner of Jordan’s mouth almost lifted.

Then his gaze rose to Aren’s face.

Or rather...

To the angry bruises blooming across her cheek.

The healing cuts.

The grotesque swelling that distorted one side of her jaw.

Every trace of warmth vanished from his expression.

’...What happened?’

His heartbeat lurched violently.

Before he even realized he was moving, he had crossed the room in long, urgent strides. Both hands seized Aren’s shoulders with enough force to make her stumble back a step.

"Ariana, what is this?" he demanded, panic and fury colliding in his voice. "Who did this to you?"

Aren blinked up at him in confusion.

"...Hah?"

Jordan’s gaze immediately snapped past her shoulder until it landed squarely on Caio.

The Sartori Don stood only a few paces behind her, his expression already dark enough to promise bloodshed. His narrowed eyes conveyed a single, unmistakable message.

’Take your hands off her. Right now.’

Unfortunately, Jordan interpreted that murderous glare as confirmation rather than warning.

His own expression hardened.

"Did he abuse you?"

Aren barely had time to process the accusation.

Jordan had already released her shoulders and stormed past her, closing the distance to Caio in an instant.

Around the room, every servant felt their stomachs drop as Jordan seized Caio by the collar with startling speed, yanking him forward.

"You bastard—"

His fist exploded toward Caio’s face.

Every heart in the room seemed to stop.

Mrs. Pecora, following right behind Caio, felt it most of all.

"Wait— Mister Marchetti!" she cried. "It’s not what you think!"

She rushed forward alongside the maids, but none of them were fast enough.

Caio moved first.

His hand shot upward, catching Jordan’s punch squarely in his palm before it could travel another inch.

At the same time, his free hand clamped around Jordan’s throat — not choking him, but leaving absolutely no doubt that the younger man’s life rested entirely upon Caio’s restraint.

"Calm your shit," Caio said, cold eyes narrowing. "You really think that little of me, brat?"

Jordan ground his teeth, forcing the fist down with all his strength.

"If it wasn’t you, then who would’ve dared?!"

"It wasn’t me," Caio said flatly.

"You seriously expect me to believe that?!"

"It really wasn’t the Don!" Mrs. Pecora insisted desperately.

"Please, calm down!" several maids pleaded at once.

The staff hurried forward, trying in vain to separate the two men, but it was a thoroughly hopeless effort. Neither Jordan nor Caio looked remotely interested in yielding so much as an inch.

Only then did Aren finally understand what Jordan had assumed.

Before either man could escalate matters even further, she hurried directly between them.

"Wait, Jordan..." She pointed a finger toward her bruised face. "If you’re talking about these, Don Caio didn’t do this."

Jordan hesitated.

Some of the fury drained from his expression, replaced by confusion as his attention returned to her.

"Then... what happened?"

"I was kidnapped," Aren explained simply. "The kidnappers tortured me to pressure Don Caio." She gave a small shrug, as though recounting little more than an inconvenience. "That’s all."

Jordan stared at her.

"...Kidnapped?"

His voice rose sharply.

"Tortured?!"

The words struck him like a lit fuse.

His anger only reignited with even greater intensity as he rounded on Caio once more.

"So this is Sartori security?! You let her get kidnapped? You let someone beat her until she looked like this?"

Caio’s jaw tightened.

"She was on her way home to visit her father. Was I supposed to assign an army to escort her?"

The words left his mouth before guilt caught up with them.

’...No.’

’I should have.’

A flicker of self-reproach crossed his eyes before disappearing beneath his usual composure.

"...Fine. It was my oversight. But it’s never happening again."

His voice hardened.

"Ever."

"That’s right, Jordan," Aren added, trying to smooth things over. "I won’t be so careless again."

She offered him a reassuring smile.

"And don’t worry. I’m still perfectly fit to fulfill my contract with House Marchetti today. These are only minor injuries. I barely feel them."

Jordan looked at her as though she’d lost her mind.

’That is completely not the point!’

’No... calm down.’

’I still don’t know if she’s telling me the truth.’

’I don’t even know whether both of them are telling the truth.’

’I need to observe her instead of blindly believing everything she says.’

’For now... just accept the explanation.’

’Damn it.’

"But she’s riding in my car."

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