The mafia lord’s imposter

Chapter 6

The moment the door clicked shut behind me, the reality of my situation set in. I had no idea how or where to find the damn clown in under four hours. His identity wasn’t known to many—some speculated that he was a rich heir who loved children too much, while others claimed he was a nobody—but still, not everyone could book him whenever they wanted. Even some of the city’s wealthiest men had to book a year ahead for just one clown!

My mind spiraled with ways to find him as I made my way to my room. But I rerouted when I remembered Talia. I asked a few staff where she was, and their directions led me to the small garden near the security houses.

Talia was casually kneeling at the center of the garden, a small bucket of seeds by her side as she carefully dug the ground to plant them. As I walked closer, I noticed the dark egg-shaped seeds — lotus, which made sense since it was early spring.

“Didn’t think we’d meet again so soon,” Talia said, setting the trowel aside without looking up.

“I need your help,” I said plainly. She was, after all, the only person willingly talking to me in this house.

That got her attention. Her brows shot up. “With?”

“I need a clown for a birthday party.” I smiled sheepishly.

A look of confusion crossed Talia’s face. “Why the hell would you need a clown for your birthday?”

“It’s not mine. It’s for Xavier’s kid.”

“Oh,” she said, as though a missing piece of the puzzle had just clicked.

I was still stuck on the fact that her indirect answer meant Xavier probably did have a kid somewhere when she added, “What does that have to do with you?” She eyed me. “I mean, don’t be offended, but you’re just a maid.”

I slumped down on the muddy sand next to her. “The maid thing was just Rosa’s misunderstanding. And I need to get busy to take my mind off things.”

“Things like?”

“My family. My mom.” I said, knowing full well why I was doing all this.

Talia’s small hand rested on my shoulder. “What do you need me to do?”

“First, I need your phone.”

After searching and calling for an hour with Talia’s phone, all I could find out was that the clown was booked for the whole year — as expected. Luckily, on the last call, I learned that he was currently in Toquanto for a child’s birthday party. Talia had to drive me to the address I managed to sneak out of his secretary.

Unfortunately, we were stopped at the entrance. The guards shouted that the party was strictly by invite, even after we explained we were there for the clown and not the party.

Talia and I had to leave, but we remained in the car, hoping to catch him when he left. Talia had sighed so many times I’d lost count, while I kept running the conversation I planned to have with him over and over in my head.

My gaze fell on the watch strapped to Talia’s wrist — it was already 11 p.m. I bit my lip, knowing this was my only chance to convince him.

“Finally!” Talia gleefully screamed.

I quickly scanned the gate, thinking the clown had appeared, but there was no sign of him — not even the guards, who had already gone back inside.

I turned to face Talia. “Where is he?”

“Who?” she asked, looking confused. When I caught a glimpse of her phone, I saw she was playing a game that had just prompted her to move to the next level. So that was why she was cheering.

After waiting another five minutes, I finally saw him. Bunny stood in the foyer, his ridiculous rainbow wig slightly crooked and his red nose tilted. I grabbed Talia’s hand and intercepted him.

“Hello,” I said, breathing heavily from the short distance I’d run, mentally noting that I needed to work on my fitness.

He paused, staring at us like we were crazy. “Hello,” he replied, skepticism clear in his tone.

“I’m Jade, and I’d love for you to come to my boss’s child’s birthday tomorrow. Before you say anything — I know you’re not booked tomorrow because it’s your rest day, and we’d be willing to pay you whatever amount you request for the inconvenience.” I blurted it all out in one go.

“I’m sorry, lady. But there’s a process for everything,” he said, walking toward the car that had just pulled up.

“Please, there’s a life at stake!” I begged, following him to the passenger side.

“Maybe next year,” he said with a polite smile, closing the door.

“But… but…” My hope was crumbling fast.

Before he could roll up the window, Talia slapped her hand against the windshield, stopping him. Her normally chirpy voice turned cold. “Do you have any idea who you’re rejecting?”

“I don’t care how much money your boss has. There are rules for everything, and I’m a man of discipline,” he said smugly.

“You mean to tell me I should go back and tell Xavier De Santos that you — Collin Miller — have rejected his generous offer?” Talia’s words made him freeze.

The driver was about to start the car when the clown quickly told him to stop. He turned to Talia and asked carefully, “Are you really from him?” He said “him” like it was a name too heavy to speak aloud.

“How many people have you seen going around lying with his name?” Talia’s answer seemed to hit home.

After a tense moment, he said, “I still need proof that you’re from him.”

Talia’s lips curled into a sneer. She pushed up the sleeve of her jean jacket, revealing a black tattoo — a scorpion poised above a single rose.

The moment he saw it, the clown mumbled a string of apologies and handed me his phone to exchange contacts.

As we walked back to our car, I turned to look at Talia. She felt… different somehow. The same Talia, yet not at all.