Chapter 6

Mr. QUINN

 

I clenched my fist as I stepped out of Amelia’s apartment. Not only did her children make a nuisance around me, but she turned my damn offer down. I am sure that I am the most wanted widower in Italy. I had the look, the money, the influence, and even the connections. But wait, did she get wind that I owed a mafia group? I bet there is one thing that no one knows about except the people involved. My grandfather—I don’t know how he did it—made Cassano the most feared name in Italy. 

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I drove back to my penthouse myself, imagining the thousand ways I would have gotten rid of the silly woman who dared to turn me down. I might have killed her right there and then, but as my grandfather would always preach, "timing is everything." And a patient dog eats the — whatever bone he said—I really don’t believe in this last part. 

 

Once I halted my car in front of my house, I quickly walked towards the white penthouse. The door was opened by one of my men, and I stormed in angrily, heading straight to where Mr. Cassona, my grandfather, could be. As expected, he was at the lounge having his best moment with a cold whiskey and music. 

 

“Must it be her?" I mean, why her?” I asked

 

“She turned you down?" Why won’t she? "How could you propose to a woman like that? Do you think you were making a business deal or something? If I were her, I’d as well report you to the cops for harassment.”

 

Grandpa poured me a drink, and I hesitantly took the glass and sat beside him. Most of the time, I admire his charisma because, even with his old age, he still managed our mafia’s business without any flaws. Our conglomerate is the most feared in Italy and so highly connected that we usually get offers from the top politicians. He won’t let me know much about it, claiming that I shouldn’t get my hands dirty. I should rather focus on being a better CEO for Hansel Group, but things didn't work as he planned. I am now the true successor of the Hansel Group; I have taken over and brought the conglomerate to a new height, and my company is now among the world's leading companies.

 

“I will try again; I think I should,” I said, and while he nodded 

 

I don’t have that exact plan for what I should actually do. But then I will always have my way of getting things done that I set my mind to. I stood up and went to the living room. 

 

“Find out everything you can about Amelia Jackson,” I ordered.

 

Although I was still disappointed that my men couldn’t find the lady I have been searching for the last six years,

 

I know right well that their names were Bianca Park and Frankie Jackson. The two of them booked the room, which I unintentionally barged into after I took the spiked drink. I still feel bad, especially when I realize that I actually took her innocence from her. When I woke up early the next morning, I saw myself in the messed-up room and then a few traces of blood on the blanket. Could it be Bianca... or Frankie? 

 

Even with that on my mind, I could not forget Miss Amelia’s triplet boys. They looked so handsome, and my heart almost skipped when they hugged me tightly. I felt like a father, and then the burning desire to have my own child crept into my mind. Looking at the brighter side of it, I will not be at a loss if I marry Miss Amelia; I will, however, gain a lot. Three handsome boys and a pretty lady as my wife

 

I have had this gynophobia ever since I was ten. Yes, therapy didn’t work for me. My grandfather only found out when I was twenty, and I refused to marry the lady he chose for me. He thought maybe I was just young, naive, and immature, but when he found me out, nothing he did made it better. although I still had to marry her to expand our business.

 

I grew fond of "seeing my wife." At a young age, I already had it all—a wife and lots of money to take care of her. But then babies were impossible; we don’t even share the same bed, not to talk of getting her pregnant. The press gossiped that I was either gay or impotent. 

 

However, Sandra didn’t react to all this rumor or attempt to leave me. If I believed in love, maybe she was supposed to be my first, but sadly, I don’t do love. I can’t submit myself to things as foolish as that.

 

Sadly, she had to die in the hospital; I am sure she coldly murdered someone there, but the suicide letter she wrote deceived her family and not me. She wrote that she had leukemia and the pain was unbearable, which is why she had to die by her own hands. She requested that no autopsy be carried out on her. Trash!  The same people who killed her spiked my drink too. 

 

I will soon uncover them all.

 

However, something seems strange. how I was able to get close to that woman without having a panic attack. I wasn’t even intimate with my wife for once, but I was with her. Who could she be? And why only her? I thought it was because I was drunk, but I was wrong. I tried getting myself drunk and hiring a slut, but the moment her filthy hands touched me, I threw up every last bit of my stomach’s content. 

 

I am really going to find her, make up for my mistake, and maybe offer her to be my mistress, since Amelia would soon be married to me. She might be the only one to prove that I am a man...