Page 91 of Obsessed by My Ex's Mafia Uncle

Chapter Fifteen

Christine

My phone lights up again with another message.

I pinch myself mentally from opening it. I don’t need to. I already know who it’s from.

Robert has been sending me messages even after I didn’t show up last Monday. It’s Wednesday now, more than a week later, and he’s still trying to meet and talk.

I flip the phone face down on the desk and keep moving.

The office smells faintly of fabric and paper and something citrus from the cleaner we used earlier. It’s small, but it works. Shelves are lined with labeled boxes, mood boards are stacked against the wall, and samples are folded and arranged.

This is mine.

I move around the space, gathering what needs to be packed up, closing files, sliding folders into their places, straightening things that don’t need straightening just to keep my hands busy.

Because stopping means thinking.

And thinking circles back to Robert.

“Okay,” Tati’s voice cuts in from behind me, already in work mode like she hasn’t been on her feet all day. “Before you run off, quick update.”

I glance at her over my shoulder, already reaching for my bag.

Tati isn’t just staff. She’s my right hand. The one who keeps things moving when I’m pulled in ten different directions. The one who knows which client matters, which doesn’t, which one is about to become a problem before they even say it out loud.

If I’m not here, she is.

And things still run.

“Make it quick,” I throw, slipping a folder into my bag.

“Sure.” She nods, flipping open her tablet. “We’ve got three new inquiries. Two are standard, corporate dinners, nothing complicated. I already flagged them green.”

“Good.”

“The third one…” she hesitates, just slightly, and that’s enough to make me look at her properly now.

“Say it.”

“He came recommended,” she starts, watching me as she speaks. “High budget, and wants something… big. Private but loud, if that makes sense.”

It doesn’t.

But I know what she means.

“Who recommended him?” I ask, even though I already suspect the answer.

“Daniel.” She clears her throat, wincing.

“No.”

“Just like that?” Tati blinks.

“Yes.”

“He’s offering double our usual rate,” she adds, like that might change my stance.