The Mafia Boss Desired My Love Again

Since the day I started dating Vincent, every year I have baked his birthday cake myself. I always did that with my own hands.

But tonight, it was different. When my eyes turned towards his phone screen, I saw it again.

It was Angelina's profile picture, a little cartoon avatar. Although, deep inside my heart, I knew for whom that cake was for but now it was confirmed.

It was her. I took a deep breath and no words came out of my mouth. Vincent was behaving completely insensitively. He didn't realise what I felt when he asked me to bake that cake.

Meanwhile, his eyes were fixed on me. He was waiting for my reply. Eventually, I nodded my head in agreement and kept my expression neutral.

"Send me the pictures," I said, standing up. "I'm going out to buy the ingredients."

My thoughts instantly went back to our first meeting. Seven years ago, that dark winter night changed everything for me. If Vincent hadn't been there, I wouldn't have made out alive.

It was an annual auction where high-profile mafia bosses were present. Tension was in the air when a sudden argument echoed. Within seconds, guns were drawn.

I still remember the terrifying sound of a gunshot piercing the surroundings. The next moment, a man in his late fifties collapsed, blood pooling around him.

His body was dragged out of that space as if nothing happened. Vincent had shielded me, pulling me away from that chaos.

At that moment, I gave him a long look, one last time and thought, "Once I finish this cake, I will be done with him."

I was taking long steps towards the door, my steps heavy with the weight of my decision.

Before I could press the doorknob, Vincent's voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Scarlett…" he called my name, unsurely.

I stood intact and didn't bother to turn around. "Anything else?" I asked, my voice void of any emotions.

He paused and mumbled, "I'll transfer you the amount."

I shook my head in disappointment and kept walking, not saying a word. As soon as I stepped into the elevator, I pulled out my phone and opened our chat history.

Not 1, 20 or 100 but there were 5363 messages sent by me. And he just replied to 25. A mocking smile adorned my lips.

On the other side, upstairs, Vincent's phone buzzed up with the notification that the transfer of $100 had been rejected.

It wasn't difficult for me to imagine his current reaction after that subtle rejection.

Later that night, around 8 p.m., my phone started ringing constantly. As expected it was Vincent.

"Hey! Where have you been?" He asked, his voice filled with concern.

"Do you need anything?" I asked, ignoring his fake apprehension.

After a long pause, Vincent replied, "Nothing much." And then added further, "I just wanted to say…the cake is delicious. As always!"

For the first time, I didn't feel anything after hearing those words. Was he trying to make up? Or does he want me to forget about what he did?

When none of us spoke, he broke the silence. "I know… you have put in lots of effort."

My facial expression softened. I was letting my guard down for a moment. But Angelina's voice took me out of my trance.

"Vincent told me, you baked this delicious cake for me, Scarlett. Impressive! You're talented. I wish I could be able to do this. But I'm clumsy. Vincent calls me his little troublemaker."

The way she spoke was quite intimate. I could see through her words. Before I could comprehend anything, she invited me to her birthday dinner. I didn't even get the chance to politely decline the invitation and Vincent's voice echoed again.

"Well! Don't need to come here."

Afterwards, he hung up the call. Tears were at the edge of my eyes. But I didn't let them fall.

Minutes later, my phone buzzed again. It was a message from Vincent. It had his location pinned along with the note.

Bring Angelina's favourite perfume. She wants it as her birthday present right now.

I sighed, letting out a sarcastic smile. It took me 20 minutes to reach that location. When I pushed open the door to the private room, I smelled Vincent's strong cologne in the air. All of his bodyguards including Marco were guarding that place.

There he was! In the corner, feeding a slice of cake to Angelina. Her eyes were wide open as she looked up at him.

"I'm sorry!" My sudden apologies grabbed their attention. The moment Vincent landed on me, his expression darkened.

"What are you doing here?"

Before I could say anything, Angelina ran in my direction and greeted me in the most fake sweet tone.

"Scarlett, finally you are here."

Meanwhile, Vincent wasn't liking anything so he said, "Didn't I tell you not to come?"

I knitted my eyebrows together in confusion. Before I could utter anything, Angelina mumbled, "I wanted that perfume. So, I just tricked her into bringing me one."

When Vincent heard that, his expression softened as he ruffled her hair, "You, little troublemaker!"

Exactly he was calling the same name which she told me a few minutes ago.

After witnessing the whole scene, my mind was crystal clear. I knew I wasn't going to get a better time than this. In no time, I pulled out my resignation letter.

"Vincent," I stepped forward. "One of my colleagues has a family emergency, can you please approve this?"

However, he was so engrossed in Angelina that he didn't give a glance at the letter and scribbled his signature.

The moment I was about to take away that letter, his hand grabbed mine. He stared at me with confusion.

"You… came here just for this?" he asked, his tone stern and suspicious.

Without delay, I nodded. His gaze darkened, and as his hand brushed the burn marks on my palm, he flinched.

Angelina was looking at us with interest. "Scarlett! That blue bracelet on your wrist looks familiar." She paused. "Now I remember, I saw that in Vincent's trash can the other day."

Although her words hurt me, I pretended not to notice Vincent, who was covering his wrist awkwardly. "Nowadays these bracelets are common. If you want it, I can bring it for you as well," I said calmly.

Vincent didn’t respond.

When I walked out of the room, I threw the bracelet into the nearest trash can. I was wearing it for seven years but not now when it meant nothing.

As I stood by the elevator, I received another call on my cell phone. It was Mom. "Did you buy your ticket home yet?"

"Not yet," I replied, my voice emotionless. "I’ll book it in a few days."

I had to be very careful. If Vincent would get to know any of my plans, he would end up killing me.

I shivered even at its mere thought. Before I could hang up, Vincent's voice came from behind. "Booking a ticket?" He paused. "For what?"