Chapter 38: Mafia Leader's Power

< Shirley >
"Did you guys have a morning date?" I heard an excited squeal when I entered Dylan's mansion through the front gate to pick up my purse which I left on the couch.
"If me falling asleep in the car while test driving counts as a date, then yes," Dylan responded sarcastically and walked past the enthusiastic celebrity.
"My gosh, you look like you had a rough night, huh," Sienna said with a mischievous look, but she seemed to have noticed something on Dylan's face. He was still shaken up from the dream earlier. "Dylie, is something wrong?" Sienna placed a hand on his cheek.
Dylan brushed away her hand. "It's nothing. I was just thinking about Cordelia." I was furrowing my brows in confusion when Dylan gazed at the ceramic floor beneath my feet with eyes so sad it broke my heart. He squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in a sharp breath. "I need to leave for office." With that, he started making his way upstairs with Sienna trailing behind him asking for elaboration.
I took my purse from the couch and was about to leave when someone caught me. "Why are you in such a hurry?" Xavier questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"I have work," I told him professionally but he started laughing.
"But you were jobless," Xavier stated flat-out without consideration. I glared at him, wanting to throw my heels at him.
"Well, I'm trying to get a job." I gave him a tight-lipped bitter smile. Xavier seemed impressed and clapped his hands for me.
Just as I was about to step out of the door, a husky voice hollered from the top of the staircase, "Shirley!" I peeked over my shoulder at Dylan. "All the best," he wished and gave me an encouraging smile, which made Sienna and Xavier make a shocked face, and I swear, I had butterflies erupting in my stomach. His smile just killed me.
"Thank you," I managed to mumble and ran out of the mansion to hide my cheeks which were starting to heat up into red tomatoes.
Something told me that the interview was going to be awesome because I had Dylan's best wishes. And sure enough, my interview went really well. They would let me know later.
Although the interview went great, many people wanted the same post as me. After all, it was The Dreamweavers, one of the best clothing and accessories companies. Therefore, the post of an assistant fashion designer is highly wanted. People would also try to bribe the interviewers. No doubt about that. Because not everyone is Shirley.
If it were the previous me, I would have bought their whole company with my dad's money.
I reached the parking lot and took out my phone. I called Adrian and told him about the interview. While I was talking on the phone, I had the feeling that someone was watching me.
I spun around to glance at my surroundings. Nothing seemed out of place, yet there was this strange silence that creeped me out as if someone was spreading this silence to hide their own presence.
Geez, I wasn't making any sense.
"Hey, are you listening? Is everything okay, Shirley?" I heard my brother talking from the other side of the phone.
"Oh, sorry, it's just that… I just felt like I was being observed," I let out, still looking around for any signs.
"Is that the person who took you hostage?"
Yes, it could be Mr. Creepy Stalker. But wait a sec—
"How do you know that?" I questioned, and he fell silent for a whole. Adrian couldn't know that. There was no way. I never told him about the hostage incident.
"Sorry, what? Did you say something? Shirley, are you there? I can't hear you. I think the network is very ba—" With that, the line went dead.
"Ady!" I cursed him and stomped my heels, the eerie silence crept in again. With that, came the fear—the fear of being alone in a parking lot.
Ah, good old days. Brought back memories. Note my fucking sarcasm.
I remembered the hazy images of someone getting shot beside me and blood splattering on my face. I closed my eyes, trying to shut down my scattered thoughts.
It couldn't be Mr. Creepy Stalker because his men were—I realized that I had no idea what Dylan did to find out the attacker. Dylan told me he would investigate but I never asked him the results of it.
But if the stalker was observing me from afar, why wasn't he texting me like always? Strange.
I hurriedly shoved my key into my black Mercedes and drove off to Dylan's office which was near.
"May I come in?" I asked in a professional tone while knocking softly on the door of Dylan's cabin.
"Come in," I heard Dylan say from the other side. I grinned to myself and opened the door. Dylan was sitting on his chair, studying a file, but his back was towards me.
I casually walked behind him and covered his eyes with my palms. I deepened my voice and asked, "Guess who?"
"Disaster," he replied in monotone and pinched the back of my palm.
"Ouch!" I winced and shrieked away from him. "How did you know?" I pouted and rubbed the back of my palm.
"I recognized your footsteps," he answered and turned around his chair. A frown formed on my forehead.
"Yet, you could've played along just a little bit," I whined.
Dylan scoffed nonchalantly. I puffed my cheeks and plopped down on the chair in front of him.
"Since you are in a grouchy mood like always, I won't bother you too much. I just came to ask you something really important," I let out and crossed my legs, leaning back on the chair.
"As you can see, I'm kind of busy over here," he said, skimming through the file in his hand and signing it. He was about to start typing something on his laptop but I shut it down. "What the heck is your problem, lady?"
At last, his eyes were on me only. However, to be precise, he was glaring at me.
"If you want to say something, then say it and get the hell out of here," Dylan declared.
I heaved a sigh and said, "Okay, I will be straight since you're fuming like a volcano and I don't want the lava to fall on me. So, the million-dollar question is, did you find the person who planted the bomb in your car a few days ago?"
"Which one?" He furrowed his brows in confusion.
Was this guy even for real?
"What do you exactly mean by 'which one'?" I let out a nervous dry chuckle.
"The one at the restaurant or the one at the office?" Dylan said bluntly. Could someone please tell me how many fudging people were after his life?
Maybe it was about time I started maintaining distance from him. Because I was seeing red flags for myself if I stayed with him. This guy carried death with himself as only one misstep could cost his life. How the hell was he even alive?
"I'm talking about the one at the office," I replied, not questioning his other life risks. Because I knew what he would answer, making me look like a fool. I was ninety-nine percent sure that he would say that it was the power of being a Mafia Leader.
"Yeah, the one where you were taken hostage, right?" he asked, and I nodded.
"What happened after we left?"
"After I took you home, Riley caught a few really loyal henchmen. When I say loyal, I mean, really fucking loyal. They killed each other before my men could extract any information out of them. They also burned down their cars along with themselves." Dylan gritted his teeth angrily. Seriously, why would anyone do that?
"I thought there were only two of them," I let out.
"Some of them were waiting outside the office building. As I was saying earlier, Riley sent the broken cell phone he found to our expert hacker. The phone was so damaged, they couldn't find anything. However, I'm pretty sure that they're not in the mafia."
"How can you be so sure?" A streak of sweat rolled down my cheek. I didn't know why I was feeling anxious, I just didn't want Dylan to find out about Mr. Creepy Stalker.
"Their assaulting style was way too obvious as if they were not targeting me, rather someone else." He gazed into my eyes, and I averted my eyes. "There's nothing to hide. I already know that they were after you," he stated. "Now the question is, why?"
I gulped and looked back at him. "Wh-why would you think that?"
"Shuttering is the sign of being guilty."
"I'm not guilty," I objected.
"Even if you don't agree, I know it too well. It's such a shame I can't tell anyone." Dylan let an exaggerated sigh, leaning against his chair.
"Why?"
"You want to know?" he asked in an intimidating voice. He smirked as I nodded my head. "They will kill you."
I felt goosebumps all over me as my breath hitched as well. My lips parted in anticipation. If Dylan's men got to know that Mr. Creepy Stalker tried to threaten me by using Dylan then they were going to kill me?
"Y-y-you're kidding, right?" I managed to ask.
"Why would I do that? Who do you think I am?" His smirk got wider. "I'm the one who rules one of the most powerful mafia organizations. If some unprofessional dude tries to harm their leader, it would hurt my men's ego. Therefore, if someone poses a threat to me, even though they don't belong to any mafia organization, even if it's my trainee, they're going to exterminate them without any second thought." He paused and smirked at me.
"Fucking creep!" I cursed out loud and banged my head on the glass table, hiding my face from Dylan.
Shit, I was going to die. It was obviously my fault that Mr. Creepy Stalker tried to kill Dylan. How dumb is that guy to plant a freaking bomb in a Mafia leader's car?
"But rest assured. I'm not telling anyone about it. However, I'm sure Riley must have realized it as well. But he won't tell anyone without my orders." I released a sigh of relief as he said that. However, Dylan glanced at me and a sinister smirk took over his lips. "On second thought, maybe I will order him to tell everyone. After all, hiding anything from my subordinates is like betraying them. Don't you think so?"
"Please tell me you are not serious," I let out, my heartbeat fastening once again. If he were to tell them, I was doomed because it was true that my stalker wouldn't think twice before hurting Dylan to put a stop to my dreams.
"When have I ever not been serious, Shirley?"
If Dylan was going to be like that, I had no choice but to use the crooked way, which I would regret immensely later on.