The Ghost: Mafia Romance

Chapter 13

It's been a week since I saw a Ghost. After that lovely dinner we had a week ago, he dismissed me to my room. I didn't argue about him dismissing me, I was happy to get the f**k away from that man.

I went into my bedroom with my head high and slammed the door. Once I slammed that door, did the tears I had been holding back poured down my face faster than I could wipe them away.

I woke up the next morning, made sure I was dressed in something appropriate for breakfast and headed downstairs, going to wait for him just as he ordered me to do. It wasn't that I wanted to do as he ordered me, it was simply for the fact that I didn't wish to anger him more than I had the previous night.

He paid millions of dollars to have me as his s*x slave, and I'm not exactly in a rush to become what I was bought for. I want to put that off as long as possible. I don't want his body touching mine, and I definitely don't want his c**k inside me. I didn't even know whether I am a virgin or not.

My memories have yet to return. I have been trying my hardest to remember, I'd lay in bed at night with my eyes closed and pray to the lord that I'd remember even the smallest of details. It didn't happen, though, each night I went to bed disappointed.

Ghost said my father gave me up to settle his debt, but I would like to know why.

Didn't my father love me?

Wasn't my life worth anything to him?

I just want to know who I am and where I come from. Not like it would actually help me in my current position.

I waited in that dining room for twenty minutes, close to storming away from the table and back into my bedroom, when Harold suddenly appeared next to me.

“Ma'am,” he said and bowed slightly. “Ghost wanted me to inform you that he is gone away on business. He will won't be back for a week.”

“A week?” I asked.

It's my second day in this house. He paid millions of dollars for me, and he leaves me behind the second day?

Of course, he did, Aria, you don't mean anything to him, I snapped at myself.

“Yes ma'am. He had to leave the country for a bit to visit his parents, but he will be back shortly, I assure you,” he replied.

I don't really care whether Ghost comes back shortly or not, old man.

I didn't say that out loud, though. I nodded my head and changed the subject. Now is the perfect opportunity to learn more about Ghost from someone who has been with him for years.

“How long have you worked for Ghost, Mr. Harold?” I asked and smiled when he placed the plate of waffles, sausage, and grits in front of me. “Looks delicious.” I said and happily picked up my fork, stabbed it into my waffles and took a huge bite.

After Ghost and my conversation last night, I didn't have much of an appetite, I barely touched my food and went to bed hungry. I'm glad I can now enjoy this yummy, delicious smelling meal without him glaring and snarling hateful things at me.

“Since he was a child. I worked for his father before him.” Harold replied and started walking away.

“Sit down and eat with me, please. I'm still not used to being here. I'm a little scared. “I whispered, hoping he believed me.

“Of course, ma'am,” he stuttered out, looking at me with a strange look on his face before taking a seat on my left.

“No need to call me, ma'am. You can call me Aria. I promise I won't mind,” I told him gently before taking a sip of my orange juice.

Rosie can indeed cook. Every is just as delicious as it smells. No wonder Ghost is so overprotective of her.

“That will not be appropriate, Ma'am. I work here. You live here. Ghost would not like it,” he informed me, a frown on his eyes and still holding that strange look on his face.

Do I have food on my face? I know I'm hungry, but I didn't think I was eating like an animal. I quickly grabbed the napkin off the table and wiped my mouth.

“Well, Mr. Harold, as you know, I don't really live here. I basically work here too, so I don't see any actual need for you not to call me Aria. Do you?” I asked him.

“It's not appropriate, Miss,”

I sighed, gave up and went back to the topic at hand.

“I thought you said Ghost was going visit his parents? Meaning both. Why do you not still work for his father?” I asked, keeping my tone light and innocent.

“I have helped take care of Ghost since he was a baby. He views me as a second father figure, you see. He asked me to come with him, and I couldn't possibly tell the boy no,” he smiled, probably thinking about Ghost when he was a child.

He most likely tortured a lot of puppies.

“How far do his parents live?” I asked. “Does he get to visit them often? Living all the way out here must be very lonely for you and Rosie when Ghost is gone, I mean,”

“His parents live in another country, Miss, so they live far, and he visits them a couple of times a year, usually around his mother and father's birthdays and Christmas, he loves to watch his mother's face open her gifts.”

“Hmm” I mumbled.

Not exactly what I expected to hear. It's hard for me to see a man like Ghost handing out Christmas gifts.

“Thank you for keeping me company, Harold. You must be very busy. I'm sorry to take up your time. Can you send Hannah in here?” I asked while gently dismissing him. I will not get any actual answers from Harold, but I could try again with Hannah. I just need to be a little nicer to her.

“I'm sorry, Miss, but Hannah has gone with Ghost. She is his assistant, after all,” Harold informed me as he got up from the table.

“Oh? Does she normally travel with him to visit his family?”

“Usually yes. Hannah gets along very well with his parents. They love when she visits.” He informed me before talking out of the dinning room.

I sit there trying to remain calm. He brought me here, he kidnapped me, and he leaves me behind and takes her with him. What kind of bullshit is that? Hannah told me she wasn't doing anything with Ghost, but that is obviously a lie. No woman is going to visit a man's family without a good reason.

And Ghost telling me that Hannah is his assistant was a f*****g joke. He was probably silently laughing about how culpable I was to easily believe him.

My appetite once again vanished as I stared down at my three pancakes, and only old had two bites taken out. I sighed, drank another sip of orange juice before heading back to my prison.

Ghost said I could do whatever he wanted while he was gone, but that morning, I didn't feel like doing a damn thing but hiding away, praying that Ghost would never come back.

It's now been a week, since Ghost has left and after three days of holding up hiding in my room, I started to explore. I found a library and have spent almost every day, every hour in it reading and keeping my mind busy, letting those words pull me into another world.

A better world than mine.

It's night six, and I am currently lying in bed, and my stomach growled. I didn't go down to lunch, nor did I go down for dinner on the first day. Poor Harold knocked on my door for twenty minutes each time and I felt had for making that old man stand like, knock and plead for me to eat something, but I just wasn't hungry. I have only been eating one meal a day because I have been so focused on reading that I didn't take time to eat.

Mr. Harold would bring my food into the library for me, and by the time I remembered that, my food was ice-cold and I was too sleepy to eat.

I am now, though.

I flung the blanket off my, slipped my furry black slippers on and headed out the door, making sure I wasn't being too loud, so I wouldn't wake up Harold and Rosie who were just down the hall. The other day, Harold let it slip that him and Rosie were actually married, and then he looked very upset with himself and stormed away.

I tiptoed down the hallway, nearly tripped down the stairs in the dark, and made my way into the kitchen.

I need something sweet.