Random One-Shot

His - A Mafia King

♛┈⛧┈ ༶ Enjoy theread, LilyButterfly ༶ ┈⛧┈♛

That evening, Mahesa was in his luxurious office. His fingers held a photo of Fay that had been printed several times. His eyes, which usually looked cold and emotionless, were now fixed on the green-eyed girl.

“Call Rangga,” he ordered briefly over the intercom. In less than five minutes, Rangga—his most reliable and loyal assistant—entered with quick steps.

“Find her for me. Gather all the information about Fay: her address, her workplace, her close friends, her family, and her daily routine. I want it all on my desk by tomorrow morning.”

Rangga swallowed hard. In the ten years he’d worked for Mahesa, he’d never seen his boss ask for information about a woman. “Got it, Boss.”

--

That same evening, Mahesa was sitting in his black car, parked a short distance from a small café on the outskirts of town. He gazed at the café window where Fay sat alone, engrossed in a book with a cup of tea in front of her.

“That can’t be called normal,” Rangga whispered from the driver’s seat.

“I’ve never even heard that word before,” Mahesa replied flatly.

He watched every one of Fay’s movements—the way she flicked her black hair, the way her lips pursed slightly as she concentrated on reading, and how her green eyes sparkled softly. After 35 years of living with the conviction that nothing in this world was worth anything, Mahesa had just discovered the one thing that shattered that belief.

“Starting tomorrow, station someone at every corner she passes. I want to make sure not even a single fly dares to approach her without my permission.”

“Got it, Boss.”

Two weeks have passed. Mahesa already knows everything about Fay.

Her full name is Fay Adelina Putri. She is 20 years old and is currently in her fourth semester at a leading private university. In addition, she also works part-time as a freelance model. She lives alone in a small apartment because her parents are in a different city. She doesn’t have much access to the outside world. Her life seems simple, with no connections to anyone.

Mahesa never approached her directly. He simply waited, observed, and studied her. It was as if he were a predator patiently biding his time.

That moment finally arrived on a rainy night.

Fay left the campus library later than usual. Her umbrella couldn’t shield her from the heavy downpour. She ran toward the deserted bus stop, but unfortunately, the bus had already passed.

Without Fay realizing it, a black car slowed down and stopped in front of her. The window rolled down slowly, revealing Mahesa’s handsome yet intimidating face.

“Get in,” he said firmly.

Fay was stunned. “Who—”

“I won’t say it again.”

There was something in the man’s gaze that made Fay feel as if her feet were moving on their own. She got into the car. The scent of expensive perfume and the man’s presence immediately enveloped her.

The car began to move. Rain pelted the window. Silence enveloped the atmosphere; only the sound of the engine and the falling rain could be heard.

“Do you know who I am?” Mahesa asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

“No.”

Mahesa took a brown envelope and placed it on Fay’s lap. With trembling hands, Fay opened the envelope. Inside were all her personal details: her address, photos, daily routines, and even her cell phone number.

Fay took a deep breath. “You... have been following me?”

“Mahesa,” he replied.

“What do you mean?”

“My name is Mahesa, not ‘you’.”

“Mahesa...” Fay repeated his name softly. “Why are you doing this?”

Mahesa finally turned around. His gaze immediately met Fay’s green eyes. In his eyes, Fay sensed something unusual—not malice or a threat, but... a hunger. A hunger that had long been buried.

“Because you are the only reason I feel alive.”

Fay was stunned.

“And I’m not asking for your consent,” Mahesa continued. “I just wanted to let you know.”

The next morning, Fay found herself waking up in a bed that wasn’t hers.

The high ceiling was adorned with gold ornaments. The bed was incredibly soft. This room was larger than her entire apartment. She ran to the window and held her breath, looking out at the vast garden with its beautiful fountain. Behind it stood a three-meter-high iron fence, guarded by armed sentries on alert at every corner.

“This is a mansion...”

The bedroom door swung wide open. Mahesa stepped inside, looking sharp, carrying a tray with a special breakfast he had prepared.

“You’re awake,” he said.

“What do you mean by bringing me here?! Let me go!” Fay backed up until her back hit the wall.

Mahesa set the tray on the bedside table. Then, carefully, he raised his hand and touched Fay’s cheek with the back of his finger—a touch so gentle it stood in stark contrast to the image she’d always known of him.

“Let me go?” Mahesa stepped closer. With his tall frame, he completely blocked Fay’s view. “Fay… I’ve been watching your life. You live alone in that small apartment. Working part-time until late at night. There’s no one by your side.”

“That’s my life. None of your business.”

“This is my problem now.”

Mahesa lowered his head so that his lips were almost touching Fay’s ear.

“From now on, you’ll live here. You don’t have to work anymore, and you don’t have to worry about anything. The only thing you have to do is stay here with me.”

“You’ve gone crazy.”

“Yes.” Mahesa agreed without showing any emotion. “But I’m crazy because of you.”

For the first three days, Fay refused to eat. She also wouldn’t speak and was reluctant to leave her room.

Mahesa remained calm and didn’t get angry. He simply replaced the cold food with fresh food every few hours. He never forced her. His voice never raised. He simply waited with the same patience he used when stalking his prey.

On the fourth day, Fay finally opened the bedroom door and walked toward the dining room. There, Mahesa was already seated at the end of the long table, reading the newspaper.

They ate in silence.

“There’s a condition you have to meet,” Fay said suddenly.

Mahesa looked at her curiously.

“I can continue my studies. I can leave the house with an escort. And don’t you ever touch me without my permission.”

Mahesa raised his wine glass. “…Agreed.”

Fay was taken aback. She had expected an argument or a threat, but nothing happened.

“I have one condition,” Mahesa replied.

“What is it?”

“Don’t ever try to run away. I’ll definitely find you. And those who help you leave...,” Mahesa glared at Fay, “...will never be seen again.”

Time went on.

Mahesa granted all of Fay’s requests. He allowed Fay to attend college accompanied by bodyguards who kept watch from a distance. He gave her an unlimited credit card and bought clothes, bags, and various other items he deemed necessary for Fay.

However, what surprised Fay the most was...

Mahesa never dared to touch her.

It wasn’t because he didn’t want to—Fay could see it in Mahesa’s gaze when she wore an evening gown, or when her hair was still wet after a shower.

There was a glint of passion in the man’s eyes, restrained so tightly it seemed to cause him pain.

However, Mahesa kept his promise. He would not touch her without her consent.

One night, Fay woke up from a recurring nightmare. She walked downstairs and saw Mahesa still awake in his office, signing some documents. He had taken off his suit jacket, and the top two buttons of his white shirt were undone, revealing a glimpse of his muscular chest.

“Mahesa?”

The man turned his head. “A nightmare?”

Fay nodded slowly. She didn’t know why her feet had carried her toward Mahesa. She didn’t know why she suddenly found herself sitting on the sofa in the corner of the room, instead of returning to her room.

Mahesa looked at her for a moment, then stood up and poured a glass of warm milk. He set it down in front of Fay and returned to his chair—neither approaching her nor forcing a conversation.

“Mahesa...”

“Hm?”

“All this time... why haven’t you ever forced me?”

Mahesa stopped writing. He set down his pen and looked at Fay with an expression she had never seen before—vulnerable.

“Because I know what it’s like to live without choices. I don’t want you to feel that.”

For the first time, Fay saw something behind the mafia king’s armor. Not a monster. Not a killer. But a man who grew up without love, whose life was filled with violence, who never learned how to love properly—yet was trying with all his might to do so.

Fay looked down. Her eyes were teary.

“...Thank you,” she whispered.

Mahesa was silent for a long time. Then, for the first time in his life, the corners of his lips lifted slightly not a terrifying smile, not a manipulative smile. A small smile that was almost imperceptible, yet very real.

Six months later.

Fay sat in the mansion’s garden, reading a book under a large tree. Mahesa sat beside her, leaning against the tree trunk with his eyes closed. His large hand lay open on the grass, not touching Fay, but close enough as if waiting.

Fay stared at that hand. Then, slowly, she reached out and touched her finger to Mahesa’s.

Mahesa opened his eyes. He looked at Fay hand touching him. Then he looked at Fay’s face.

“.. May I?” whispered Mahesa—the man who controlled ten companies, who was feared by thousands, who had never asked anyone’s permission—now asking permission to touch a girl’s hand.

Fay clasped his fingers.

Mahesa took a deep breath. His eyes narrowed slightly, as if in disbelief. Then he clasped Fay’s hand again—tightly, as if afraid she would vanish.

“Will you...” Mahesa’s voice caught in his throat. For the first time, the mafia king fell silent, overcome by nervousness. He swallowed hard. “...be mine? Not because I’m forcing you. But because you want to.”

Fay looked into Mahesa’s dark eyes, filled with hope and fear—yes, fear. Fear of rejection. Something Mahesa had never experienced before.

Fay smiled. A gentle smile that made all of Mahesa’s defenses crumble instantly.

“I’ve wanted this for a long time, Mahesa.”

Mahesa pulled Fay into his embrace. A very tight embrace, as if he were holding onto the only reason he was breathing. His hands trembled slightly on Fay’s back—and Fay was certain, no one in this world had ever seen Mahesa tremble.

“I don’t know how to love properly,” Mahesa whispered into Fay’s hair.

“Then let’s learn together.”

And for the first time in his 35 years of life, a ruthless, cold-blooded mafia kingpin—who had never been touched by emotion cried.

Not in front of anyone else. Only in Fay’s embrace, in the garden of his mansion, under the tree that stood as a silent witness to the collapse of all the walls he had built over the years.

Fay said nothing. She simply held Mahesa tighter.

♛┈⛧┈ ༶ End ༶ ┈⛧┈♛