My Mafia Mate

#Chapter 4: On the Bright Side

Ella

The memories of the previous night crept in as I stirred awake, the rays of morning light filtering through the heavy curtains of my apartment.

I groaned, burying my face into the soft pillow. I had finally met him—my fated mate. The universe’s way of telling me that I had found ‘the one’. Every werewolf’s dream, and a real blessing now in this overpopulated world. It was becoming more and more rare to find one’s fated mate, and I had just stumbled across mine in the dead of night.

Yet, the universe sure had a sick sense of humor.

My first reaction had been elation. That deep, primal joy from finding one’s other half. But then he opened his mouth and ruined everything.

To think that he had the audacity to not only assume that I was lesser-than for being a ‘peasant’, but also that I was only worthy of being his mistress…

My fingers curled into fists at the memory.

“Take your million dollars a year and shove it where the sun don’t shine!” I shouted at him, raising my hand in a single-fingered salute.

“Don’t be so brash,” he had answered, shoving his hands in his pockets. I still remembered how he had brazenly pulled out his wallet and flashed a wad of cash at me. “Come on. Look at yourself, at your living situation. It’s not safe or healthy for a girl like you. You’re really turning down a million dollars a year?”

“I’d rather die than be your mistress,” I had hissed back at him. “And if I cared about money, then I wouldn’t be here.”

Before he could respond, I had stormed off, leaving him standing there looking confused. Sure, I could have revealed my identity and it would have likely changed everything, but I didn’t feel the need. I saw his true colors, and they were pitch black.

I shook my head, pushing the anger away. This might be a blessing in disguise. At least now I wouldn’t be distracted. I could focus solely on my budding career. And the bonus? I was now free to choose my mate, no longer bound by fate.

Silver linings, Ella. Always look for silver linings.

My wolf, on the other hand, was furious. She wouldn’t speak to me, no matter how much I tried. She would get over it, though.

My phone buzzed on the bedside table, bringing me back to reality. The day had begun, and there was work to do.

…

When I entered the firm, it was the usual—colleagues swarming around, some with genuine greetings and others dumping their tasks onto me without a second thought. The law firm was already a whirlwind of activity, and I had only just started.

“Ella, can you photocopy all the meeting materials for tomorrow? There's a ton, so you'll probably be at it all day,” Sarah, one of my colleagues, said, shoving a massive pile into my arms.

I glanced at the old photocopier in the corner, which seemed to jam more often than it worked.

“Of course,” I sighed with a stiff smile, trying to maintain my composure. It was going to be a long day.

I began the morning photocopying Sarah’s papers. Once that was done, I was tasked with bringing everyone coffee, since the intern was out sick with the flu… Great.

After running halfway across the city to make sure that everyone got the drinks that they wanted—caramel macchiato for Patricia, black coffee with Splenda for Brenda (of course I remembered that one with a mnemonic), a cappuccino with extra foam for Robert—I finally returned to the firm with an even higher stack of papers on my desk than had been there when I left.

As I was navigating through the sea of papers, my boss, Mr. Henderson, called me into his plush corner office. He was normally fairly jovial with me, and kinder than my colleagues. I always had a suspicion that he was just nice to me because he already knew who my father was, but I never cared to ask.

Now, however, he looked serious.

“Ella, we just got a call,” he started, adjusting his tie. “A big client. They specifically asked for you.”

I raised an eyebrow, curious. “Me?” I asked, partially wondering if this was some sort of prank. “Who is it?”

He shrugged. “Didn’t say. But it’s a local land dispute case involving some major companies. A big fish, Ella. And, it’s very winnable. It would be good for you and the firm. Just… Don’t f**k up and you’ll be fine.”

The excitement bubbled up inside me. My very first case, and it sounded promising.

“Pass me their details. I’ll give them a call,” I said, my determination renewed.

…

The voice on the other end of the line was familiar yet distorted, making it hard to place.

“Ms. Morgan,” he began, “I think it would be best if we discuss this matter over dinner. How about tonight?”

Tonight? My mind raced. I thought about the mountain of work awaiting me and the hours I’d need to put in.

“I usually work overtime,” I hesitated. “Could we maybe meet tomorrow afternoon for lunch instead?”

There was a pause.

“Wait a moment,” he said before hanging up abruptly.

I blinked at my phone, a tad confused but more worried than anything. Did I just blow it with my first big client over… dinner versus lunch plans?

But within minutes, Mr. Henderson was at my desk. “Ella, what tasks are you working on that need overtime?"

I gestured to the huge pile next to me. “Sarah asked me to photocopy all these meeting files. And then there are other tasks from various colleagues.”

His face turned a shade darker. “Sarah!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the office. She rushed over, eyes wide.

“From now on, do your own tasks. You don’t even have seniority over Ella. Did you forget that or are you just lazy and incompetent?”

Sarah’s face went red. She stammered for a response, but Mr. Henderson wasn’t looking at her anymore. He was looking at me.

“Ella, you’re excused from all the chores. You need to attend this dinner meeting. The client will pick you up at six o’clock tonight. Sharp. And… Here.” Mr. Henderson pulled his wallet out of his pocket and rifled through it.

A moment later, he produced his company credit card, which he threw down on my desk. “Use this to get yourself a new suit. No offense, Ella, I really do think you look fine most days, but you need to look a little more put-together for this dinner.”

I blinked, taken aback. “Wait, the client is picking me up?”

He nodded. “Apparently, they’re very keen on having you on this case. Now go and get that suit.”

I had no choice but to obey. With Sarah’s disdainful eyes burning into the back of my skull, I took Mr. Henderson’s company credit card and walked to the nearest shopping center I could find, where I picked up a new pair of pants, a crisp button-down, and a blazer.

As the day wore on, my curiosity only grew. What kind of client would personally come to pick up a lawyer? Why did my appearance matter so much?

My mind wandered to the voice on the phone. So familiar, yet so distant. It nagged at the back of my mind, like a song you just can’t remember the lyrics to.