Mafia Lord's Mute Sweetheart

Chapter 81: Chapter 81 Hidden agenda?

"The interview is set for tomorrow," Mr. Henderson said, steering the conversation back to business. "I will send her the details. And sir?"

Rafael looked up, still grinning. "Yes?"

"Please do not call her seventeen times again. It is not professional."

Rafael opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. He paused, considering his options.

"Fine," he said finally. "I will not call her seventeen times. I will only call her ten."

Mr. Henderson stared at him, his expression completely unreadable.

Rafael grinned, unbothered.

Mr. Henderson decided not to respond. He just turned and walked out of the room, shaking his head.

"Wait... Wait!!!"

Rafael’s voice stopped Mr. Henderson just as he was about to leave the room. The older man turned back, his eyebrows raised, his hand still on the door handle.

"Yes, sir?"

Rafael walked toward him quickly, his eyes bright with excitement. He ran his hand through his messy dark hair, his tattoos catching the light as he moved.

Rafael said, his voice eager. "I am going to take the interview personally. We need to discuss the questions. We need to prepare. We need to make sure everything is perfect."

Mr. Henderson blinked.

Mr. Henderson said slowly, his voice careful. "Sir, you are the CEO. You do not personally interview entry-level candidates. That is what I am for. That is what HR is for."

Rafael waved his hand dismissively. "I know. But this is different. She is different. She is special."

Mr. Henderson’s eyebrows rose even higher. "Special?"

Rafael paused, searching for the right words. "Yes. Special. Important. Unique. She is... she is someone who deserves a chance."

Mr. Henderson studied his boss’s face. He saw the determination in his eyes, the way his jaw was set, the way his hands were already reaching for a notepad.

Mr. Henderson said carefully, his voice measured. "Sir, are you sure this is about the job?"

Rafael blinked, his expression confused. "What else would it be about?"

Mr. Henderson did not answer. He just sighed and walked back into the office.

"Fine, sir. We will prepare the questions together."

Rafael grinned. He grabbed a chair and pulled it up to the desk, his energy filling the room.

Rafael said, grabbing a pen and a notepad. "Okay. Let’s start. What questions should we ask?"

Mr. Henderson sat down opposite him, his expression calm and professional.

Mr. Henderson said, his voice steady. "Standard questions. We should ask about her qualifications, her experience, her skills. We should ask about her degree in perfumery and how she plans to apply it to the role. We should ask—"

Rafael interrupted, waving his pen in the air. "Boring. Those are boring questions. We need to ask interesting questions. Questions that make her feel comfortable. Questions that show her we care about her as a person."

Mr. Henderson stared at him. "Sir, this is a job interview. Not a therapy session."

Rafael’s voice was firm. "I know. But she is mute. She cannot speak. She probably has had a terrible experience with interviews before. People probably look at her and assume she is not capable. We need to make her feel welcome. We need to make her feel like she belongs."

Mr. Henderson sighed and asked, his voice resigned. "What kind of questions did you have in mind?"

Rafael leaned forward, his eyes bright. "Okay. First question. We should ask her about her favorite scent. What smell makes her happy? What smell reminds her of good memories?"

Mr. Henderson blinked. "That is not a standard interview question."

Rafael said firmly. "I know. That is why it is a good one. It will make her feel comfortable. It will show her that we are interested in her passions."

Mr. Henderson opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. He decided to let it go.

"Fine. Next question?"

Rafael tapped his pen against the notepad. "Second question. We should ask her about her hobbies. What does she do for fun? Does she like to read? Running? Music?"

Mr. Henderson said, his voice flat. "Sir, that is not relevant to the job."

Rafael’s voice was firm. "It is relevant to her. And she is important. We need to know who she is, not just what she can do."

Mr. Henderson sighed again. "Fine. Next?"

Rafael grinned. "Third question. We should ask her about her dreams. What does she want to achieve? What is her biggest goal? What does she hope for in the future?"

Mr. Henderson stared at him. "Sir, this is a job interview, not a life coaching session."

Rafael said, his voice passionate. "I know. But she is more than just a candidate. She is a person. A person who has been through a lot. A person who deserves to be seen."

Mr. Henderson was silent for a long moment. He looked at his boss’s face. At the determination in his eyes and the way his hands were moving, his pen hovering over the notepad.

Mr. Henderson said slowly, his voice curious. "Sir, why do you care so much about this girl?"

Rafael paused. His grin faded. He looked at Mr. Henderson, his expression suddenly serious.

Rafael said, pointing his pen at Mr. Henderson like it was a weapon, his voice slightly defensive. "Don’t think I am pulling her through the back door! It is just because she is mute, understand? She cannot speak. She cannot communicate the way other candidates can. She needs special consideration. That is all."

Mr. Henderson nodded slowly, his face carefully neutral. His eyes, however, held a hint of skepticism.

Mr. Henderson said, his voice measured. "Of course, sir. I understand perfectly."

Rafael narrowed his eyes. "You do not believe me."

Mr. Henderson maintained his professional composure. "I believe you, sir."

Rafael’s voice was sharp. "You are lying. Your face is lying. Your eyes are lying. You think I am doing this because I have some hidden agenda."

Mr. Henderson maintained his professional composure. "I think you are doing this because you care about the candidate, sir. That is all."

Rafael stared at him. Then he sighed and ran his hand through his messy hair.

Rafael said, his voice resigned. "Fine. Believe what you want. But I am telling you the truth. She is qualified. She has a degree in perfumery. She graduated at the top of her class. She has skills. She has talent. She just happens to be mute. That is the only reason I am being careful."

Mr. Henderson nodded again. "Yes, sir. I understand."

Rafael squinted at him. "You are still lying."

Mr. Henderson’s voice was calm. "I am not lying, sir."

Rafael insisted. "Your face is lying."

Mr. Henderson replied flatly. "My face is always like this."

Rafael pointed his pen at him again. "That is what my brother says. And he is always lying too."

Mr. Henderson maintained his professional composure. His face was calm, his posture straight. But his lips moved slightly, forming words that were barely audible.

Mr. Henderson muttered under his breath. "I am not your brother, sir."

Rafael leaned forward, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "What did you say!?"