Page 36 of King of Omen

After a spell of boredom, I had Mauri drive me to the northern beaches. We spent time acquainting ourselves with our unfamiliar surroundings in Manly, walking its stunning golden sands and luxuriating in its tranquil peace.

I discovered its charming cafes and sourced the best coffee in the area.

Mauri was loathe to let me out of his sight. Soon enough, however, I convinced him we were living in a new country that was one of the safest in the world.

With great reluctance, he allowed me several solo hall passes even though I was his boss, but not without a stern, short lecture on the importance of always conducting a threat assessment and the dangers of wandering the streets by myself.

Damn, the man had balls, I conceded. But he was worth every freakin’ penny and more I paid him.

I found a tiny wine and jazz bar and spent a few nights nursing a cheroot and whisky in its shadows, enjoying a series of sultry singers.

For the rest of my time, however, I mulled on Mia.

No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t banish the woman from my thoughts.

Her alluring presence lingered, haunting my mind at unexpected moments.

It consumed me, especially in the evenings when the city lights flickered to life, casting an ethereal glow over the harbour.

One night, I stood on the expansive balcony of my lavish hotel living room with a crystal tumbler of whisky. I stared out at the glittering skyline as I replayed our brief encounter.

I retraced my conversation with her that day at the wake.

Her letter stayed with me always, tucked into a shirt, trousers or jacket, depending on what I wore.

I longed to find her, unravel the mystery surrounding her, hunt her down, and claim her as mine.

However, many years ago, when I was deprived of my parents, I lost hope in making close connections other than those I’d already forged with my brothers and aunt.

I loathed the sinking sensation of longing for someone, the tightness in my chest, and the roller coaster of euphoria and pain.

I abhorred being under the thrall of a woman’s lure, unwilling to let anyone control my soul.

So, I yearned for Mia while hating how much I longed for her because a woman like her had the potential to destroy me.

Hankering to be near her had taken me hostage. Just thinking of her caused my entire body to throb.

I tried to logic my way out of the agony.

Why would a woman like her be interested in a jaded, hardened man like me?

I huffed, taking a sip of my whisky.

I was no ideal catch. I carried darkness within me. I was not a man to be trifled with; my reputation as a cold and ruthless man was well-deserved.

But something about her stirred a flicker of warmth that threatened to thaw the icy walls I’d built around myself.

With a touch of old-world conviction, I sent a little prayer into the universe.

If she were meant to be mine, the fates would align our paths again.

Until then, I had to bide my time, resist the urge to seek her out and let destiny take its course.

MIA

With little purpose and no loved ones to keep me in the Blue Mountains, I took a leap of faith.

I attempted the one thing I’d wished for in years.

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