Serendipity

Chapter 2

Raffaele

The first thing that went through my head when Luigi called to tell me that the rat Chevalier's daughter is in my building was what the fuck. For a moment, I considered brushing it off. It could be some misunderstanding. After all, Luigi and Antonio are rather incompetent.

But then I looked back at the phone in my clenched hand. I'd just gotten off a call with my search team responsible for finding the evidence Chevalier had stolen from me. Nothing. My best employees are on it, including hackers and men equipped with everything they could hope for, along with a few of my dogs and they have nothing.

It's eating away at me. It's embarrassing enough that there was a mole in our midst for so long, right beneath my fucking nose. Now that he's gone, I need to get my shit back and ensure that no incriminating evidence lands in the wrong hands.

Namely, the hands from Dubois Senior. The leader of the French mafia used to have a bone to pick with my father and since he's gone, the man is coming for my neck. Bastard. He decided to be my enemy before I could even offer to put our differences aside.

Personally, I don't need petty rivalries. I've got enough to do, trying to keep my men in check and our business going.

Either way, that's why I'm standing here now, looking at the fragile little girl that's supposed to be Chevalier's daughter. When I stepped up to the bars of her cell, her brows raised a tad as if she hadn't expected me. I'm not sure if she's aware of who I am. There was no hint of recognition as she saw me which makes me wonder if she truly is as clueless as my men suspect or if the surprise was due to something else.

If she knows who her father worked for and came here purposely, she probably would have expected me to be older. And dressed in a suit instead of my casual fit. Maybe fewer chains. And tattoos.

I stare down at her, my gaze hard and unflinching as I try to figure her and her intentions out. For a few beats, she stares back at me with what looks like a challenge playing behind those dark brown eyes. But then, to my great dismay, her chin starts wobbling, she sniffles and tears up.

I groan inwardly. Please don't let her start crying. Like, what do I do then? Comfort her? Yeah, I don't think so. But yelling at her and getting the information I need would be less fun.

"Why am I here? What are you going to do with me?" she asks, her voice weak as she blinks back tears.

I keep studying her wordlessly, even though her words trigger me. "What are you going to do with me" it sounds like I'm a monster praying on an innocent. I'm not. Try not to be, at least, despite what everyone around me automatically assumes.

Still, despite the small part of me that wants to assure her it's going to be okay, I steel my spine and don't react. So far, she seems harmless enough. Then again, I thought her father could be trusted too, and look where that got me. Nope, I'll keep my guard up around anyone sharing blood with him.

At least until I got some answers.

"Your father is Andre Chevalier?" I ask evenly, acting cold and detached. A behavior I often watched my father uphold growing up.

The girl nods, wiping away tears that have started dripping down her chin as she bites her quivering lip. "He's been missing for two months and no one knows where he is. I came here in the hopes someone might know something about his disappearance," she tells me. Then, even more quietly, "Please, he's all I have."

The urge to comfort her hits me by surprise. What the hell? First off, I'm not a good person. The shit I've witnessed- ordered or executed myself, even. Worst of all, there are times that I don't even feel remorse for the things I've done. Then why the hell do I care if this stranger is crying right now.

I curse my employees for having brought her down here instead of sending her away.

"Interesting. Your father has worked for me for years and I had no idea he had children. Do you have any siblings?" I ask, softening my voice just the smallest of bits. I don't trust her. Call me paranoid but it seems weird that she had been kept a secret by Andre. Now she turns up, two months after I took care of him.

The woman simply shakes her head.

"What's your name?" I demand next.

It takes her two tries to get the words out. She's still crying, her chest rising and falling unevenly with suppressed sobs. Something about it seems wrong to me but I don't react. "Elodie," she tells me.

"And why are you only coming here now, Elodie?" I go on.

"I don't know what else to do. The police refuse to help me and I have no idea how to find him," she answers quickly. Not a bad answer, sure, but the way she said it makes my guard go up. It sounds too scripted, as if she had practiced the answer before.

I take my time taking in her features more closely. Sure enough, I faintly recognize her father in her. Same color hair, almost black, same upturned eyes, dark enough to swallow up her irises down here in the dark, and a jawline as sharp as his.

If she inherited some of his looks chances are the same applies to his personality and ability to trick people. Fuck that, I'm not getting screwed over again. Whatever reason brought her here is secondary, she's the first clue I got in two months. And I have every intention of taking advantage of the situation.

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I feel like starting a new story is kinda rough but trust me, it'll get better lmaoo

I have a lot planned tho so stay tuned and have a great day<3