His Kryptonite

Chapter 7

Michael's POV

Laila throws that submissive look again, and that's when I realize that whatever she'd begged of me with that expression, I'd give it to her. I'm fucked. She pulled that stunt earlier when I was about to rough up her friend, and it stopped me dead in my tracks. Normally, saying no is not an issue for me, but with her? Those hazel eyes of hers, they mess with my head. And the fact that she doesn't usually beg, clearly not her style at all, only fuels this twisted addiction I have, making me wonder what else I can make her beg for.

"I don't fucking know," I answer to Francisco. "It's your job to keep an eye on your daughter's crew, not mine. It really bothers me that I'm the one giving her a damn ride home, Francisco."

I catch a glimpse of Laila breathing out and relaxing in my peripheral vision. Francisco assures me he'll handle the situation, then asks where we're at, probably to make sure I'm actually taking Laila home.

After hanging up, she shoots me a worried look. "Are you gonna tell him? Because seriously if you're gonna tell him, kill me instead. No, seriously, shoot me now and enjoy your murder case."

"Keep pushing, and that might just happen."

"He doesn't need to know about this. I promise I won't do it again," she tries to convince me.

I can't help but wonder what exactly she's talking about. Not going to some joint that's not under the clan's control? Cruising the streets without any made men by her side to protect her? Or seeing that fucking guy again? Because I have to admit, I'm more interested in the last option. When Riccardo told me she was getting all cozy with some random dude, it triggered something deep inside me, unleashed a storm of rage. I sped like a maniac to that Four Roses shithole, and the moment I spotted her leaving with that guy, I tailed them without a second thought.

"Fall in line, Laila, and there won't be a fucking problem."

She wipes her hands on her thighs and tosses her hair behind her ears. She stays surprisingly quiet as I keep my eyes on the road, but I'm hyper aware of every single one of her movements, and it fucking stresses me out. I can't even deny that this shit ain't normal, that twisted obsession I have with the girl. But for now, I don't know how to shake it off, so I'll just surrender to my irrationality.

I pull up to Francisco's fortified mansion, the gates looming ahead. I roll down my window, making sure the cameras catch a glimpse of my presence. The gates immediately swing open, revealing the opulent estate. Laila's demeanor suddenly shifts, nerves overtaking her once again, probably scared shitless that I'll spill her secrets to her papà.

I navigate the driveway that leads to the mansion. As I approach the entrance, I spot Francisco, his wife Elisabetta, and their two sons waiting outside. I bring the car to a halt, and Laila swiftly exits, running towards her family. Francisco's arms instantly wrap around her, holding her tight, while her mother gently caresses her arms in a comforting manner.

Francisco's gaze then falls upon me, his face etched with confusion, seeking some clarity in this messed up situation. He walks up to my car. "Mike," he says, bending down to my window, his voice laced with suspicion.

I glance over, and amidst her family's barrage of questions, Laila's eyes lock with mine, her nail caught between her teeth, a mix of anticipation and uncertainty in her gaze.

"What the hell happened?" Francisco demands, his tone laced with confusion.

"Riccardo tipped me off that she was in that shithole joint. Since I always have your best interests at heart, I took it upon myself to fix the mess," I reply, flashing him a fake-ass smirk.

Francisco scratches his head, his face clouded with disbelief. He turns around, his voice stern as he calls out, "Laila, get over here right now."

I step out of the car, pulling a cigarette from my pocket. Leaning against my car, I light it up while watching Laila approaching with her seductive attire. My eyes devour every inch of her scorching body, clad in a short leather skirt and a tight white corset.

"Yes, papà," she replies, standing beside us, her voice sweet like honey.

"Care to explain? I dropped you off at Ashley's for a quiet night in, and here you are dressed like a seductive vixen. Where were you and who were you with?"

"I was at Four Roses, with Ashley... and some friends from college," she says, stealing a quick glance at me.

"Che cazzo is Four Roses, Laila?!" Francisco exhales loudly, though his entire demeanor reveals more relief at having his cub back unharmed than actual discipline. He's probably putting on a tough act for my benefit. If I weren't here, he'd let any lie she spun slip right through his fingers. These two are each other's weakness: she loses her smarts when her papà is involved, and he turns soft like fucking cotton candy around her.

"I won't do it again, papà, I promise," she murmurs.

"Damn right you won't. I'll make sure of that. From now on, you won't step foot out without one of your brother watching your every move. And those college friends? Fuck 'em. Starting today, they're out of the picture. That goes for Ashley too. You'll either be at the firm or locked up at home."

Laila bites her lower lip, clearly displeased with being scolded in front of me. She shoots me a glance, and between puffs of my cigarette, I smirk mischievously.

I straighten up from leaning on my car, adjusting my cufflinks on both sleeves as I prepare to leave. "You know, my offer still stands. I have a bunch of guys who'd be more than happy to take care of this problem for you, Francisco."

I notice him tense up, but he's trying to play it cool in the face of my threat. Damn, he's really whipped for that daughter of his.

"It's all under control, don't worry," he claims.

I open the car door and slide inside. Clearly, it's far from under control, considering how soft he becomes when his daughter's involved. In other families, things wouldn't have gone down like this, that's for damn sure. But I decide to let him off the hook. Because, in a twisted way, I get it. This girl, she must be working some kind of magic, because even I can't bring myself to treat her like any other broads I've come across.