36 - I'm going to get fat

"a flower knows, when its butterfly will return, and if the moon walks out, the sky will understand; but now it hurts, to watch you leave so soon,

when I don't know, if you will ever come back."

― Sanober Khan

. . .

ASHTON CREED

I grabbed another book from the shelf and put it in the cart.

"Which else?" Michael asked, he was walking beside me in the large bookstore.

I ignored him. He sighed. "You should have bought Olivia here with you. I'm sure she remembers all the books she had."

"There's a thing called 'surprise' Michael," Zavier said, picking up a book that had a half-naked woman with ropes tied on her wrists on it. "Think Olivia will like it?"

I shook my head. I could not imagine little one reading something dirty. Zavier threw the book in the cart anyway. "I'll make her read it."

I smirked. That would be interesting.

"Stop torturing the poor girl," Michael said, moving away to grab some novel. Michael was our enforcer and a great one at that.

"Nope," I replied because torturing her, making her whine in frustration, was too fucking addicting.

"What else?" Michael asked. "I need to go torture some people."

A woman who was walking by us decided to run away. I chuckled. "Well, you couldn't get shit out of Ariel."

A man. That was all she knew. It was a man, he had threatened to kill her and her family and apparently, he had snipers ready to shoot at her family members.

She was rotting in the woods with other corpses. Famiglia before anyone. She took the oath knowing what bratayal would cost.

Her family members were next in line.

I grabbed a lot more books. I knew every book that had been on her bookshelf. I grabbed a few more I thought she'd like. I grabbed a few for myself. Zavier put a few more books with questionable covers in the cart, smirking as he did. Michael just shook his head at us and grabbed a few books for himself.

I didn't normally buy books myself. The library still had books I was yet to read. But I wanted to get Olivia all of the books she had lost because of us.

I stopped in front of the counter. A small girl was on the other side, looking to be eighteen or something. I looked at the name tag. Rose. Suited her because of her strawberry blond hair.

Before long, the books were in the car, and Zavier, Michael, and I were speeding through the traffic to pick Olivia up.

I stopped in front of the little cafe she loved so much. I had to admit, it was a nice cafe. I had wanted to buy it for quite some time but Cassandra, the old lady who owned it never wanted to sell it. I liked to keep business clean so I didn't push as much as I could have.

I entered the cafe with Zavier.

She was standing behind the counter, handing coffee to some guy who thanked her with a way too bright smile and walked away. I felt my fingers twitch. Fucking asshole.

But Olivia had not noticed. She was smiling at Zavier and me. I walked towards her.

"We are looking for a worker here," I said to her. "This tall." I kept my hand on her head. "Shy as fuck. Brown eyes. Black hair."

"Beautiful smile," Zavier continued. " and happens to love my cooking. Do you know her?"

She made a thinking face. "Nope. Try the next cafe!"

I chuckled, pressing a kiss on her sweet as fuck lips. "Hey, baby. Ready to go?"

She nodded as Zavier pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I just have to take the apron off and wash my hands and grab my bag. Five minutes?"

"Take as much time as you need. We are right here," Zavier said. She smiled again and walked away to the backdoor.

I walked to a table and sat down. I looked around. Five bodyguards were here. I had spotted the other ten outside. Too much protection, perhaps. But I didn't give a fuck.

I looked at the counter. Cassandra was glaring daggers at Zavier as he ordered. He was smirking, probably to piss her off more. We had wanted to buy this cafe for so long, she hated us. The second reason is don't want to

kill her was that she was our grandma's friend and well, killing old ladies was not fun.

Zavier walked to the table with the coffee. "Did Xerxes find out anything?"

"You'd know if you ever keep your phone." He never carried his phone anywhere. It was a pain to contact the fucker sometimes. Even if he had it, he switched it off. I did not know what he had against phones.

"Just tell me."

"We don't know where Georgia is," I said. "She's not at her apartment. There was nothing out of ordinary at her apartment except an alarming about of booze."

"She's in the clear?"

I nodded my head. "Her parents are dead. Killed by some local gang. Her whole file is there but..."

"But?" He asked impatiently.

"Her file is too clean, " I said. "Too perfect. Not even a speeding ticket. Everything is there. You'd expect some bad things from someone who drives a motorcycle like that."

Zavier drummed his fingers on the table. "We need to know more about her."

That we did.

Olivia walked out of the backroom, hugged Cassandra goodbye, and got out from behind the counter by getting on it and sliding to the other side.

She walked towards us. We stood up, grabbed her hands, and walked out of the cafe.

We got inside the car. Michael drove, Zavier sat beside him snd I sat down with Olivia in the back seat. She winched when she sat down, glaring

daggers at Zavier and me. Michael pretended to not notice as he started the car.

I pulled her on my lap, tucking her to my chest. "How was work?"

"It was good," she said. I pressed kisses on her lips. "Georgia came to visit me but she looked tired." She sighed. "They overwork her at her job."

"Where does she work?"

She told me while I pressed kisses to her jaw. She was good enough to eat. People don't get suspicious when you ask them questions while doing something else. I didn't like tricking Olivia, that was reserved for bed but we needed to get some information out of her.

"I ate five cupcakes today." I chuckled. "Did you?"

She hummed, closing her eyes. "I'm going to get fat." "Probably," I said, she'd just get a fatter ass.

She opened her eyes. "You won't mind?" "We'll just have more of you to hold." She smiled. I kissed that smile.

. . .