C H A P T E R 70

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69 | Rafael? Eiffel? Falafel?

What now, I'm hallucinating?

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What now, I'm hallucinating?

I dropped my suit jacket on the nearby table and inched closer to the french windows to make sure I wasn't imagining things.

I wasn't.

There was a little girl in my garden, stretching her arm out to touch the water springing from the fountain.

A restful smile formed over my face and I strolled out towards the adorable kid, plucking a fresh rose which was nothing compared to her pretty face.

"Hello there, little angel."

Her dark brown pigtails wiggled as she spun back, her light grey eyes growing wide at my sight and then switch to the rose I had offered her.

"For me?" She said shyly.

"Of course, sweetheart."

"Thank you sir. You are very kind." She took the rose and sniffed the fragrance.

Such a well mannered kid.

"May I ask who this beautiful little girl is?"

"I'm Xenia. My dadda works here." She replied and then gestured me to bend down with her tiny hands. "But don't tell him I was here." She whispered. "He'll scold me if he knew I left the car."

What kind of an idiot asks a kid to stay in the car alone?

"Don't worry about your dadda." I picked her up. "I'd love to have such a pretty girl in my house. Please be my guest."

Marble like grey eyes roamed across the white mansion in fascination. "You own this palace?" She gasped.

"Uh huh. Would you like to see it from inside?"

"Can I really?" She clapped her hands excitedly.

"Of course dear. Anything for you."

On our way inside, we met Jake who quickly hid his gun behind him. He passed her a small smile to look a little less intimidating.

"Don't be afraid of him." I sensed her discomfort as she kept looking at him curiously.

"No. He's cute." She remarked, sliding the rose over Jake's ear and giggling at the sight in satisfaction. "Much better."

"Hmm, I agree, little miss." Jake laughed, pinching her cheeks. "Does this remind you of anything, boss?"

Of course. That's what Vittoria did when she was brought here as a hostage. If Vittoria had a daughter, she'd be like her.

"Who's this pretty lady, boss?"

"Some guard's daughter." I replied, wondering if he knew but it didn't look like it.

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