His soul-Chapter 343: Married Man

Arriving at the Ritz hotel, Martin immediately took Ivana back to her own room through a special door that had been sterilized in advance by the hotel staff. Martin deliberately brought Ivana back to her room in order to avoid other unwanted news. When Martin entered the hotel with Ivana, Massimo was waiting in the car. Massimo didn’t want to make matters worse by entering the hotel at the same time as a woman who was rumored to have a special relationship with him.

"Let’s go to Djokovic’s place, Pablo," Massimo said quietly, breaking the silence in the car.

Pablo immediately raised his face, staring into the mirror. "Mr Milos Djokovic, sir?"

"Yes."

"But I..."

"Paris Oriental Mandarin, Milos Djokovic is staying there."

"Yes sir, I understand."

Without being ordered twice, Pablo immediately took Massimo to the Mandarin Oriental hotel in Paris to meet Milos Djokovic as his master ordered. Just as Pablo’s car came out of the basement of the Ritz hotel, dozens of journalists ran into the basement area with their cameras to a special elevator that is usually used by important guests staying at the Ritz hotel.

All the way to the hotel where Milos Djokovic was staying Massimo didn’t speak at all, Massimo hadn’t even told Milos Djokovic if he was going to visit. After breaking through the traffic jams of Paris at night, finally the car brought by Pablo entered the Mandarin Oriental Hotel area. Down in the lobby, Massimo was immediately greeted warmly by a female manager who looked very professional.

Just by mentioning his name once, the hotel manager immediately gave Massimo an extraordinary service, even the hotel manager was happy to escort Massimo to the room where Milos Djokovic was staying.

"Please, sir. Milos Djokovic’s room is at the very end," said the manager politely.

Massimo pursed his lips. "Looks like Milos Djokovic has a guest."

"You will know when you come in, sir," said the manager again without changing her expression.

"Ok, I understand and thanks for the help."

"With pleasure, sir. I’ll excuse you then, good night."

Massimo nodded his head in response to the words of the middle-aged manager who had just helped him, without wasting time Massimo then continued his steps towards Milos Djokovic’s room which was still tightly closed.

"Well, we have a big guest," Milos Djokovic shrieked loudly from behind a door that opened from the inside just as Massimo was about to raise his hand to knock on it.

Massimo pursed his lips. "Better not to spoil my mood even more."

Milos Djokovic laughed out loud at Massimo’s words, not wanting to make his guest stand too long in front of the door. Finally, Milos Djokovic invited Massimo to enter his hotel room. Milos stays in the nicest room at Mandarin Oriental Paris, therefore at this time the room feels very comfortable with many places that can be used to have fun.

When walking into the living room, Massimo’s blue beads accidentally saw a vulgar scene between several women on one of the beds in Milos Djokovic’s room, Massimo’s lips immediately thinned when he realized that he had come at the wrong time.

"Sorry if my arrival disturbs your time," said Massimo pleasantly. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Milos Djokovic chuckled. "We’re business partners, sir. You don’t have to feel so bad, after all I haven’t started playing either. I’m just asking the girls to warm up first."

Just like Massimo, Milos Djokovic also likes to play with women before making love. It seems strange if someone still calls Massimo a masochist, because basically all men have almost the same sexual fantasies.

"Ivana Borisova, what is the girl like?"

Knowing where Massimo’s conversation was going at this moment Milos Djokovic smiled. "She’s a beautiful and accomplished Russian-blood girl, why? Are you starting to fall in love with Pure Russian Blood, sir?"

"No, my taste is still the same. I just feel annoyed with the girl, especially..."

"The manager, Olga Mikhailov," said Milos Djokovic, cutting Massimo’s words.

"Do you know?" asked Massimo seriously.

Milos Djokovic cleared his throat. "That woman is the motor behind all Ivana Borisova’s actions, the innocent image that Ivana has been wearing is the work of this forty-five-year-old woman. You have to be careful and don’t be fooled by her, sir."

"I know, that’s why I’m coming to you right now. As a fellow Russian I’m sure you know how to solve this problem, I don’t want to be involved in these kind of scandals for too long."

"Wait, even though I have Russian blood, please don’t compare myself to that snake woman, sir. Our way of doing business is different," said Milos Djokovic with emphasis.

"What in return do you want from me?" asked Massimo suddenly.

Milos Djokovic burst out laughing, the bespectacled man even took off his glasses because he was too amused by Massimo’s words. "I am pleased to do business with you, sir."

"You have no more than sixty minutes to sort this out."

Instead of being angry, Milos Djokovic actually smiled slightly at Massimo’s words, after placing the brandy glass in his hand on the table Milos Djokovic then engaged in a serious conversation with his men via his cell phone. Massimo didn’t understand what Milos was talking about right now because the man was speaking in Serbian, a language that was very difficult for Massimo to understand.

After almost ten minutes of talking Milos Djokovic finally turned his attention back to Massimo who was still waiting for him on the sofa. "Done, my men will take care of this matter in less than sixty minutes."

"Good."

Milos Djokovic smiled. "You really are unpredictable, sir."

"I’m just too lazy to deal with women like them, my purpose in coming to Paris is to work not to have fun."

"For single men like us, having fun is a must, sir. Especially if you are in a country full of beautiful women like France," said Milos Djokovic quickly.

Massimo pursed his lips. "Actually I’m not single, I’m married."

Silence...

One second

Two seconds

Five seconds

"WHAT?"

Massimo smiled. "I’ve been married since five years ago."

Cough...cough...

Milos Djokovic choked on his own saliva hearing the unexpected words from Massimo, the figure of Don Juan who had made many women swayed was actually married. Several times Milos Djokovic shook his head in disbelief.

Massimo slowly moved his hand towards his neck, the next second Massimo took out a ring that was attached to his necklace.

"My wedding ring," Massimo said quietly, showing Milos Djokovic his wedding ring with Gina five years ago.

"Are you serious?" stammered Milos Djokovic.

"Otherwise I wouldn’t have asked for your help in dealing with Ivana and her manager, Mr. Djokovic," answered Massimo flatly without changing his expression.

Milos Djokovic did not respond to Massimo’s words, his focus is still on the ring that Massimo is currently pendant.

"Right now I’m still looking for my wife’s whereabouts, that’s why I don’t want to deal with women like Ivana and her manager."

Milos Djokovic’s eyes widened. "Looking for the whereabouts of the wife, where exactly is your wife?"

"Hidden by her family," said Massimo curtly.

"What?"

Massimo pursed his lips. "It’s a long story and it’s hard to explain, but it’s definitely all my fault."

"Y-you’re joking, aren’t you? How could Massimo del Cano leave his wife, sorry... how could you be married," Milos Djokovic said softly with a big smile.

Massimo shook his head, slowly moving his hand into his pocket and pulling out a rectangular object that turned out to be a wallet. With slightly misty eyes Massimo handed his opened wallet to Milos Djokovic. "My wedding photo five years ago," he said softly, his voice shaking slightly.

"Jesus...."

To be continued