My Boss Is In The Mafia?

Prequel- Chapter 6: The Red Velvet Cake

Prequel- Chapter 6: The Red Velvet Cake

Elian Storm

Both of us slumped our heads on the restaurant table, drained out of energy.

"There seems to be no apartment within my budget in this stupid city," Alena mumbled, sounding worn out and depressed.

I sighed in agreement. We hunted around for hours, and yet, no result. "I can't believe every goddamn landowner raised their rents over the New Year."

"Maybe I should just increase my budget range," she murmured, pouting.

"No, absolutely not," I protested, raising my head up.

"Why? Weren't you the one saying I should increase it?" she reasoned, peeking at me from her folded arms on the table.

"Yeah, but then I thought it over. If you increase your rent budget, you'd have to cut back on your food budget. I don't want you to starve to death, you know?" I told honestly. Because I put some thought into it and realized it was insensitive of me to tell her to increase her apartment budget. It wasn't like she wanted it herself, but she had no choice with her limited money from her scholarship and part-time job.

She hummed in agreement.

A question occurred to me. It felt oddly sensitive and personal to ask. However, the situation was right for it. So after hesitating a little, I finally shot the question, "Can't you ask your parents for a little financial help? I mean, it's okay to ask for help, sometimes."

She straightened up and leaned back against her chair, smiling sadly. "I wish I could do that. But I came here against their will. They are not going to pay a single penny for my living cost."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's okay, you don't have to be sorry," she shrugged nonchalantly, but I could tell that deep down it pained her.

I made a mental note not to bring her parents unless strictly necessary. I hated to see any sadness on her face. I wish I could do something to help her with the apartment.

"Should we order our food? I'm starving," she spoke up.

I nodded and called for the waiter.

She ended up ordering spaghetti and a ton of desserts. "Uh, I have the habit of stress-eating." I didn't understand why she suddenly felt conscious and felt the need to explain herself.

"I'm sorry, did I seem judgemental?" I asked in confusion.

She played with the end of a hair lock and mumbled, "No, it's just a common question I get. I get demeaned for it a lot." She let out a heavy sigh.

"Why should you be? I mean, it's your goddamn wish what you want to eat and how much you want to eat." I wondered what sort of inconsiderate asshole questioned her eating habit; it made me angry—

Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. "I know, right?"

"Huh?" My face went blank seeing her one-eighty shift.

She laughed. "Did you honestly think I cared about what anyone says about my eating habit? I was just testing you."

I gave her a flat look. "Not funny. Would you like it if I tested you?"

"I think testing someone is practical. So go right ahead with testing me. I have no problem," she expressed confidently.

And... she was right.

I always tested someone's loyalty before hiring them for the gang, but with Alena, however, I never felt the need. She could pretend to be a scheming devil, but I knew in my gut that she was honest and trustworthy.