Maid To The Mafia:Totally Captivated

CHAPTER VI

SERVING THE GOD AT UNGODLY HOURS

This was still my first day on the job, and I was still working. Apparently, that mafia boss really was true to his word. He planned to use me to the bones. Straight from collecting money, I was immediately ordered to cook them dinner. I couldn’t even get a glass of water to quench my parched throat. I was tossed into the kitchen and expected to cook a five-course meal fit for the king of the mafia. He thinks I can’t live up to his expectations. Well, he’s wrong. I was the master chef in our household. Forcing me to cook something like a roast, that was my specialty. At exactly 6:00 p.m. sharp, as promised, I served them dinner. Roast pork with crackling that could break your teeth and an abundance of roasted vegetables. The smell of my food was so succulent even I was salivating. One thing I found out while working here, even though it had only been one day, was this clan, boss and underlings, ate together like a family, which I thought was a bit strange.
Where’s Giovanni’s family?
Is he an only child?
What the heck?
This issue didn’t concern me one bit. I was all too eager to launch forward with my fork and fill my belly with delicious food. We were all dishing up my succulent homemade meal when I looked up at the boss and muttered,

“Gio, could you pass me the bowl of peas?”

Everyone at the dining table dropped their cutlery. Giovanni glared at me in a cutthroat manner.
Did I say something wrong?
Am I not supposed to ask him?
But the bowl of peas is right in front of him.

“You’re my servant, Jay. Never ever use my name,” Giovanni said coldly, his tone giving off another layer of ice.

“Okay,” I answered, nodding, not really taking the whole “ice glare” seriously.

“But what happens on the off chance I forget?”

“Then it’s simple.” He laid his knife and fork on the table and looked directly at me, his hot lips in a thin, straight line.

“I’ll just cut out your tongue.”

I gaped and stuttered, “But... but... if you cut out my tongue, how do we communicate? What happens if you want a flat white and I make you a short black instead?”

Giovanni clenched his jaws and his eye ticked, which meant he was pissed off. I smirked. I loved riling him up. Especially with what happened in the bathroom before. This could be my form of revenge on him. Hee-hee.

“Sorry, boss, you can go back to eating your dinner.” I dismissed him. I was about to dish up my second course since the first one didn’t do an ounce to fill my ravenous belly, when I was yanked out of my chair and somehow found myself on his lap, my head facing the floor and my bottom facing up. Oh no, what’s he doing? And then...

Whack!

There was a collective gasp from everyone. I forced back my tears. Giovanni smacked my bottom. This mafia boss smacked my bottom. So, he didn’t lie after all. He was capable of smacking me.

Was this why my nose had been twitching nonstop? Was this it?

Tears welled from my eyes. I forced them back and glared at him. No way would I give him the luxury of seeing me cry.

“Never, ever talk back to me, Jay. You have no right to use my name. I’m your master and you’re my servant. Remember, you’re a coffee machine.”