The Mafia Queen's Obsession

Part 12

Selene slowly takes a seat in the chair opposite Ayla, her demeanor cool and calculated. "You're more resilient than I expected, Ayla. That's a rare quality," she observes, the words almost like a compliment, though the way they're spoken leaves little room for comfort.

Ayla looks up at her, intrigued but wary. "I've been through worse," she replies, though she's not sure whether it's the truth or just the bravado of someone trying to survive in an impossible situation.

Selene's lips curl into a faint, almost imperceptible smile, as if she enjoys the challenge Ayla presents. "We'll see just how far that resilience takes you, then."

Selene stands up with a fluid grace, her movements deliberate and controlled. As she turns to leave, her sharp eyes catch Ayla's, and for a brief moment, the air feels heavy with anticipation. Ayla, not wanting to be left alone in the stillness of the room, hesitates before speaking up.

"Where are you going?" she asks, her voice quieter than usual, tinged with curiosity.

Selene's lips curl into a knowing smirk as she pauses, her back still turned to Ayla. She looks over her shoulder, her gaze mischievous yet confident. "To change my dress," she replies smoothly, her voice dripping with a hint of playful arrogance. "But if you want... I'll stay here."

Ayla watches her closely, her lips curving into a subtle smile of her own. She's not entirely sure why, but the idea of Selene staying in the room, continuing to challenge her, feels oddly comforting in this strange, dangerous moment.

"Stay here," Ayla says with a small, amused smile, her tone casual, though there's an undeniable spark of interest in her eyes.

Selene's smirk widens, but she doesn't immediately respond. Instead, she walks back towards Ayla, slowly closing the distance between them. The way she moves—confident, controlled—seems to make the room feel smaller, the air thicker.

"I was hoping you'd say that," Selene murmurs, her voice low, almost a whisper, as she sits back down across from Ayla. For a moment, the tension between them crackles in the quiet room, both of them aware that something is shifting, though neither quite knows what direction it will go.

Ayla, sensing the unspoken challenge in the air, leans back slightly in her chair, her posture relaxed but alert. "So, tell me, Selene... why do you help me?" The question hangs between them, vulnerable yet daring.

Selene's smirk fades into something more contemplative, her gaze unwavering. "I told you already, Ayla. You're not the only one with a stake in this game."

The door opens softly, and the assistant re-enters, this time with a tray in hand. The room feels a little less tense with the arrival of the drinks, though the underlying currents between Ayla and Selene remain charged. 

The assistant places a glass of scotch in front of Selene, who thanks them with a nod, then hands Ayla a chilled glass of water.

Selene takes a sip of her scotch, savoring the moment, her gaze briefly flicking to Ayla. "Thank you," she murmurs to the assistant, before her eyes settle back on Ayla. "Now, let's make this a little more comfortable, shall we?"

She leans back in her chair, the glass in her hand almost like a statement of control, before turning to the assistant. "Bring us two five-star meals," she orders smoothly, her tone just as cool and commanding as always. "Make sure it's something fitting for the occasion."

The assistant gives a respectful nod, their expression professional but careful. "Of course, Miss Moretti." With that, they exit the room, leaving Ayla and Selene in the thick of their conversation.

Ayla watches the assistant leave before looking back at Selene. She feels the weight of the situation settling on her shoulders, but there's a strange sense of curiosity growing inside her. 

It's one thing to be in this world of power and danger; it's another to feel a strange pull toward the woman who commands it so effortlessly.

"So, what exactly do you want from me, Selene?" Ayla asks, her voice steadier now, her eyes not leaving Selene's. There's something about her that's both alluring and terrifying, and Ayla can't shake the feeling that she's only just beginning to understand the layers of this woman's world.

Selene leans back in her chair, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass thoughtfully. "They want to use you as bait. They know you're digging into the Moretti empire, and they believe you have the leverage to bring us down," she says with a touch of disdain, though her tone is not one of anger—more like she's stating an obvious fact. "They think they can control you, but they're wrong. You'll be far more useful if you're left to your own devices, for now."

Ayla's eyes narrow, trying to piece together what Selene is really saying. "So, what? You're telling me that I'm in the middle of a game where I'm just a pawn?" she asks, her voice laced with disbelief. "If I'm supposed to be bait, why don't you just let the task force have me? What's in this for you?"

Selene's smirk reappears, though it's tinged with something darker, something calculating. "I don't make moves without knowing the outcome. The task force doesn't know what they're up against. They think they have the upper hand, but they don't understand the game they're playing. I'll keep you close, Ayla, not because I need you—but because they'll think you're in my control. And that will be the perfect trap for them."

Selene takes another sip of her scotch, her eyes narrowing as she leans forward, her demeanor shifting from the playful, almost mocking figure she had been to someone who seems more serious, more calculating. 

The air in the room grows thick with the weight of what she's about to explain. 

Ayla watches her carefully, her mind racing with questions, but she knows she needs to hear what Selene has to say.

"The task force," Selene begins, her voice steady but laced with a hidden tension, "isn't just after you because of this one investigation. They've been keeping tabs on the Moretti family for years. Your digging into us, your ability to uncover things about the empire that no one else has, that's just the surface."

She pauses, letting her words settle before continuing, her gaze never leaving Ayla's. 

"You're not just any journalist. You've been sniffing around other sensitive areas. Areas that go far beyond the Moretti family. You've gotten too close to something far bigger than you realize. And that's why the task force is focused on you now."

Ayla feels her pulse quicken. 

The weight of Selene's words is sinking in, and the realization hits her like a ton of bricks—she thought she was investigating the mafia, but it's so much more than that. 

"What do you mean?" Ayla asks, her voice low, her confusion growing.

Selene leans back in her chair, her fingers resting lightly on the armrests as if she's comfortable with the gravity of what she's saying. "There are ties, connections between the task force and certain interests, both governmental and outside of it. You've been digging into corruption on a massive scale, Ayla. Not just the mafia—political figures, underground operations, black market dealings. The Moretti family is only one piece of the puzzle, and you've unknowingly become part of it."

Ayla feels a chill run down her spine. 

She had known there were layers to the things she was uncovering, but this—this was something else entirely. 

She thought her investigation was about exposing the truth, but now it felt like she had stumbled into a web of shadows far beyond her comprehension.