My Mafia Lovestory

Hiding in the bushes, Julie blended in with her surroundings, her curly blonde hair concealed beneath a black beanie. Her pale skin and sea-green eyes remained hidden as she waited patiently for Mr. Santos' imposing SUV to pull up in front of the iron-wrought gates.

For as long as she could remember, Julie had relied on Mr. Santos' large vehicle to shield her from the watchful eyes of the security cameras that monitored her father's mansion. Sneaking out was a breeze; all she had to do was scale the wall where the cameras couldn't see her. However, slipping back in proved to be a challenge, as her father had installed cameras at every corner outside the estate, seemingly without any security concerns.

Fortunately, Mr. Santos' frequent visits to her father provided Julie with the perfect cover. Assuming their meetings were business-related, she observed them from afar as they conversed in low tones in her father's office. Even her nosy younger half-brother, Edward, often attempted to eavesdrop but only succeeded in embarrassing himself by stumbling through the door.

Julie had caught glimpses of Mr. Santos on a few occasions, noting his towering stature and broad shoulders that resembled tree trunks. Despite his intimidating presence, he possessed a rugged attractiveness that intrigued her, ticking all the boxes of a rough and rugged man.

Short dark hair and dark hooded eyes underneath thick straight brows. He had a tall nose, a chiselled jawline kissed by a light stubble, and wide pink lips. And his tan skin said he spent a lot of time in the sun or was due to his Colombian heritage. Julie assumed he was Colombian, Mexican, or Puerto Rican; she had heard her father conversing with him in Spanish.

Hearing the sound of a car approaching, she crawled onto her knees and waited for the car to slow to a halt. Thereafter, she darted out of the brushes as the big G-Waggon blocked her view of the camera. Julie kneeled beside the front wheels, watching the gates swing open.

She kept up with the speed of the car, and once she was outside the range of the camera, she darted across the lawn, circling the house to the back door she purposely left open.

Jamie watched her tiny, retreating figure with a content smirk. Nothing had changed about the girl who had charmed him with her antics.

He had first laid eyes on Harry's secret daughter, or rather, illegitimate child, a few years ago. She was probably no older than 16 years old at the time. She had jumped out from nowhere, scaring the life out of his driver as she stayed close to the car, probably trying to sneak back home without her father releasing her.

It had amused him. She did this every time she knew he was coming; she had been using him as a shield.

The irony, he had thought. Jamie was the type to use people to his advantage, to simply get ahead; nobody used him.

Because nobody dared to.

Until the naive little girl did.

Back then, he was going to give her father a warning for not being able to control his daughter until he really saw her for the first time. The long blonde curls and those green eyes dot with blue flecks. Her oval-shaped face has perfect plum lips and rosy cheeks. She was gorgeous; it was clear as day.

And, for the first time, his heart began beating—he was finally alive.

That's when it all started for him—his obsession with Harry Howard's daughter. During his absence from America, he had his men keep a close eye on her since her father wasn't. He did it to keep her safe and to ensure no one touched her because she was his. His to claim, his touch, and his to keep.

Thankfully, he didn't have to dispose of any bodies during the two years he had waited for her. No boyfriends, no flings—nothing.

After his 35th birthday, he realised he couldn't wait for her. Then, the opportunity to take her from Harry's grasp came like a blessing. Jamie had discovered a variance in his shipments.

His goods were going missing, and he had a hunch that Harry may have something to do with it. He was a broker, and Jamie wouldn't be surprised if he had taken his goods and started selling them himself. Lately, he noticed millions had been deposited into Harry's account.

His line of work was sophisticated, hence why he kept close eyes on those he did business with. He monitored their lives, noted down who they met on a daily basis, and what went in and out of their bank accounts. It was all to ensure nobody backstabbed him.

Just because he wasn't in the country didn't mean he didn't have ears or eyes. His men were everywhere, in all the deepest and darkest corners of the world. No one could hide from him, and no secrets could be kept from him.

Harry greeted him on the porch of his mansion. Unlike his daughter with her thick hair, the man was balding and turning grey. He stood at an average height, but beside Jamie, he looked like a dwarf. Julie clearly didn't get her beautiful features from him.

A round face and a rounder belly.

He grimaced at the way the man had let himself go. He had known him for years, and this was how he ended up ageing.

"Hola!" He said with a smile, "How long has it been, Jamie?"

"A while." He answered nonchalantly, "I'm here on business."

Nodding, Harry invites him in, leading him up the familiar twin staircases. As he is led down the corridor, in the corner of his eyes, Jamie spots Julie, dressed in her usual all-black clothing, darting into her bedroom, bringing a small smile to his face.

They take their usual spots by the arched windows that overlook the back garden. His men, security that he had brought along, wait patiently outside the office.

A maid quietly walks into the room; her eyes kept lowering as she served them drinks.

Harry was a man of many talents, particularly in languages; thus, their meetings often took place in Spanish. He was fluent in several languages, particularly Arabic, and Swahili was often the most useful since his wealthiest buyers were from those regions. He played the part Jamie had hired him to do well.

"What business do you have?"

"Let's start with the fact that some of my shipments have gone missing." He said this, eyeing the man with ferocious intensity.

He was visibly sweating, tugging at his collar as if he were going to give her some air. The point-blank claim had unsettled him, catching him off guard.

"Not only that, you have been receiving millions from private accounts." Jamie continued, "Do you see where I am going with this?"

"It's not what you think it is." He hastily denied it. "I'm loyal to you."

Pushing back the satisfied smirk, he clenched his jaw instead, feigning irritation to scare him a little. Harry was caught like a deer in headlights; he was willing to do anything now not to be buried six feet under. Men like him were afraid of pain, of death, and of losing what they valued the most—their lives and their money.

Right now, Jamie was controlling the gears, and he could force whatever he wanted from Harry. Good for him; he had something that was valuable to him. Something he wanted.

His daughter.

"Prove it to me." He ordered daringly. "Show me how loyal you are."

He gulped, tearing his eyes away from Jamie's intensity. "What is it that you want?"

"I want your daughter." He stated it not a moment too late.

A surprised gasp escapes him. Harry had been keeping her a secret since she moved in with him four years ago. Her mother had gone mentally insane and was hospitalised, and unfortunately for him, he was Julie's next of kin.

He hadn't known about her since he was forced to go and pick her up at a temporary home. Ever since then, he has kept her in the mansion for the sake of his wife and his reputation.

Julie was homeschooled, had no friends, and had no hobbies; she was isolated from the world. So, how did he know about her?

"I don't have a daughter." He stuttered, blinking away the sweat that had dropped into his eyes. His last effort to defend his reputation was futile.

Harry wasn't a dumb man. He didn't ignore rumours that were circulating in their upper society. He heard them and was ashamed and embarrassed of himself. His wife wasn't happy, especially since she had to care for a daughter who wasn't hers.

He had let her stay on the condition that she take care of her own needs, complete her schoolwork in silence, and not disturb the rest of them.

"So, who's the girl that has been sneaking back into your home using my car as a shield from the camera?" He raised an eyebrow, not wanting to believe this man was so dense he hadn't noticed his daughter going missing.

He pursed his lips, unable to come up with an excuse. He shouldn't have a problem giving up his daughter to his man; she was nothing but an embarrassment. If that was all he wanted, then fine, he could have her.

"Is that all you want?" He questioned me curiously. "Why do you even want her?"

"I've been looking for a wife," Jamie admitted. As her father, he believed Harry had the right to know what he intended to do with his daughter. "I'm going to marry her." He looked him dead in the eye and said, "Hopefully this will tie us together and strengthen our alliances. So, don't you dare try to double-cross me again."

He clearly shakes in fear at the warning, nodding in absolute compliance. Harry, knowing his place now, won't dare cross a man like Jamie ever. A man like him had the talent of causing several disappearances and horrible deaths. Decapitation, being buried alive, and drownings—all the terrible and frightening ways to die. He didn't want to think about what would happen if he didn't have a daughter at the moment. Would he be dead now? His entire family was slaughtered due to his greed.

Julie, his only daughter, was useful after all.