The Under Boss's Ballerina [18+]

54

I came home early that evening.

Not wanting to worry Ariel as soon as she has begun to settle down, I found myself back at the house. Cancelling all the meetings for the day after lunch and calling Roman telling him I will be unavailable for rest of the day.

My brother understood my want and need to be home as soon as possible. I wouldn't want to worry the woman who shared my bed. And who worried too much about every little thing. However, dismissing me from my duties roman rather crudely reminded me of the shipment leaving the marina tomorrow morning sharp at five.

Ariel wasn't home when I parked the Maserati on the driveway and entered through the gates.

It's unusual how the absence of a person for such a short period of time, only some hours can make a home, a house.

It was early evening, the sun was somewhat shining. The bay windows of the living room was open. The usual flower bowl that were refilled every week, empty sitting on the center table. Everything impeccably in place but not really.

Emptiness surrended the house like a blanket of snow as I made my way into master suite. Hoping for a good warm shower.

It was after my twenty minute long shower, standing under the cascading warm water, I walked into the closet to find myself a pair of pajama while calling the village in for dinner and a box of macarons and a box of cannoli.

Ariel loved both the deserts.

My woman did have a sweet tooth. However she seldom acted on it. More so after she stopped dancing professionally.

I know she craves ballet and she wants to go back to the school, I want her to. Her passion for the dance was admirable, yet, the troubling thought kept bothering me in my sleep and awake.

There was just another highway shootout this morning. I had just left Ariel to mama Coralyn's. The only thought that troubles me greatly is that she was undoubtedly the centre of these unfortunate events. The ones that kept taking place centering her and leaves no clue behind.

The mysterious and unknown reason still surrounding these incidents. The trip to Florence had one motive only. To find out and who are tinkering with these operations. And why.

Why her?

The potential answer lead us back to nowhere. It was all a circle. Rapid and surprising attacks in Ariel had rattled me. The worry was bigger after the house caught fire.

Sighing, I walk into the closet to pick out comfort cloths. Hopeful that dinner will be delivered before Ariel makes it home. And I will have enough time to plate them outside in the garden over a bottle of wine.

The closet was rearranged as well. A part of the suite was almost burned to ashes by the time the fire was stopped and almost everything had to be replaced. The closet was reorganized.