16 The Mafia Boss’ Precious Glass Doll
As soon as his guard left, Ignatius got off his chair and brisk-walked over to the dining room using the back door of his study. The small storage rooms were beside the dining area, and the janitorial supplies room was one of them.
By the time the mafia boss reached the janitorial supplies closet, his men were already crowding at the small door. Losing his patience uncharacteristically, Ignatius yelled at them to scram before barging into the room. What he saw there tore him apart, tugging his heartstrings and making him feel like an existence beneath a water flea bug.
With her face flushed from the high fever, Leona remained fast asleep sitting on the cold tiled floor. Someone had already propped her up but the sleep marks on the side of her face hadn’t gone away. She must have spent the whole night like this in the uncomfortable room, suffering alone.
The mafia boss knelt down and placed his hand on her forehead. Unsurprisingly, it felt as hot as a boiling kettle. Regrets filled him like a reservoir in the rain. Why did he let her sleep in such an uncomfortable room? Leona was probably stressed and tired as she fought hard to survive. Who wouldn’t fall sick after getting exposed to a cold room without a bra in cold water and made to clean excessively after? On top of not giving her a break, he gave her awful food. It was his fault that she fell sick. Ignatius had nobody to blame for this and clenched his teeth, full of hate for what he did.
"Boss, where should I transfer her?" a newly hired goon asked, making his seniors nervous as they prayed for his painless death. If the boss was merciful enough, it would be a fast bullet through the eyes. If the boss was in a bad mood, maybe the man would have his kneecaps removed first and bled to death with three thousand slashes.
Ignatius creased his brow. After learning that she was gingeromance628, he did not want others touching her. Deciding to take Leona as a captive, Ignatius took responsibility for her. Although his curiosity and playfulness caused her to fall sick, causing her untimely death was not the intention. There was still much that he wanted to learn about her. If possible, gingeromance628 should outlive him.
"I'll do it. Clear the way," the mafia boss declared and scooped Leona in his arms.
The first thing he noticed was how light she weighed. It was obvious that she was not eating well. The dark circles under her eyes indicated a lack of sleep. If he knew she was his favorite author, he would have invited her to eat with him and given her his best room.
Ignatius held Leona's body tightly. Damn it! She had to be okay! Regrets ate away at his insides with every step he took.
The last time he felt like this was years ago. The night before his father died, Ignatius rejected a chess match with the old man because he was in a sour mood. He could not forget how hard he held back his tears in front of the members.
He hated the feeling of losing someone special. He hated feeling remorseful. There was nothing worse in this world than not being able to apologize on time.
As he walked in long strides, his worried fanboy heart continued to mess with his mafia mind. The black walls of the hallway were white in his view as if sending Leona to the emergency room. Unfortunately, for a bigshot like him with a strong reputation, he could not waltz into any hospital. The police wouldn’t hesitate to arrest him if they knew his whereabouts. The only person he could rely on was his doctor brother to check on her.
Deep in his thoughts, Ignatius did not know the expression he was making. The members who saw him wondered why their boss was suddenly acting like a hero. They saw how he left Leona in the fridge-cold room and gave her miserable leftovers for her meals. What changed in such a short amount of time?
Perhaps their mafia boss did not trust the men enough? The new recruits thought it might be the case. However, those who worked under the Teivel boss for more than a decade found Ignatius’ behavior highly unusual.
After confirming that Ignatius had gone down the metal stairs, they huddled together like penguins with determined looks on their faces.
“Why does the boss bother with such a small thing? We can let her get sick. She’s just a lowly captive anyway.”
The other guy hit his comrade’s head with an annoyed click of his tongue. “Stupid! Didn’t you see how he acted? I’m sure the boss is planning something big! He’s only treating her well because the captive’s brother will be the key to eliminating the annoying Polerths!”
Hearing the very convincing argument, the thugs nodded at each other in false enlightenment. Ignatius was great with his tactics and underhand tricks. In their eyes, he was only treating the ginger head well for an ulterior motive. Everything that Ignatius did, he did for the Teivel famiglia. Nobody ever doubted him no matter how strange he sometimes acted.
While his goons made a new pledge to worship their all-knowing and brilliant boss, Ignatius entered his black-walled bedroom. As if treating her like an expensive glass doll, the mafia boss gently laid Leona on his bed.
Seconds later, his phone rang. “Big Brother” appeared on the caller ID which Ignatius immediately answered.
“Nate, listen to me and don’t panic,” Dr Ivan said in a calm tone while waiting for his subordinate to get the motorcycle.
“Yes, I’m listening.” The mafia boss sounded nothing short of collected. However, his brother knew better.
“Get an ice pack and put it on her forehead. Prepare a bowl of water with ice, dip a towel in it and wipe her arms. Oh, Lazuli’s here. We’ll depart now.”
Beep… Beep… Beep…
The call ended swiftly and Ignatius tasked one of his men to bring him what Ivan recommended. His men’s confusion was apparent with furrowed eyebrows but they held their tongues. No matter how curious they were, they could not risk getting branded as nosy as nobody wanted to be fed to the sharks.
The mafia boss stared at Leona as his subordinates placed what he wanted and left the room. On the other hand, Ignatius refused to leave Leona’s side. He placed the ice pack on her head gently as instructed by Dr Ivan, hoping her fever would reduce. As he waited, he dipped the towel in a basin of ice water and carefully wiped Leona’s arms, taking the time to study her fair skin and slender fingers. A faint smile appeared on his face. Gingeromance628 used such small and calloused hands to type and published wonderful stories.
As he watched her breathing regulate, the mafia boss felt burdened. Until when should he hide his secret admiration for her?
If they met at a book signing event, he would have paid Wang Novels and requested an exclusive candlelit dinner afterwards. He would introduce himself as a businessman, then confess that he was actually her top voter and donor. He would offer to pay for all her debts and give her one of his penthouses in Norwich City.
However, he was born a Teivel. There was a line that people like him shouldn’t cross and Leona was a civilian. The mafia boss had to get a hold of himself. Stories were fictional and they couldn’t become a reality no matter how much he yearned for them. For someone like him with blood on his hands, it was better to remain hidden from the shadows behind an anonymous identity to continue supporting her.
While waiting for Ivan, Ignatius wondered how he should treat his captive from now on. Revealing his identity as Gun_Lord1031 was out of the question. He didn’t want her to hate him. Should he let her use his private, hidden swimming pool instead? Maybe he could let her stay in his study and read his action romance collection.
Yet, there was a slight problem. She would definitely find it weird if he changed his attitude towards her overnight. Maybe he could improve the way he treated her gradually and make her believe that they were rewards if she was a good hostage?
Looking at the digital clock, Ignatius realized thirty minutes had passed since he called Ivan Teivel. Was his brother stuck in traffic? He prayed it wasn’t the case. If he does not arrive in the next five minutes, Ignatius will deploy a helicopter to pick him up.
