It's been three days since the disastrous dinner. Two things keep looping through my mind: the mortifying failure of not being able to carry a damn bottle of wine, and that man's gaze searing into my eyes like lasers.
He even showed up in my dream. Granted, he was a cashier at Walmart while I was buying underwear and trying to hide my face, but the fact that he was in my dream at all...
I shake my head and go back to dusting the vases. There are at least three dozen vases decorating this floor alone.
"Hello," says a deep voice behind me.
I whirl around, duster in the air, sending a plume of dust right into the man's face. He backs away, rubbing his eyes.
It's the man from the table.
"I'm so sorry," I say, cringing.
"You're the new maid, aren't you?" he asks, coughing, but he's amused. "Ella?"
"Yes," I squeak. "Yes, sir. May I ask your name?"
"Marco Corleone. You can call me Marco. My father was sir, and it's a legacy I don't wish to continue."
Marco. The boss. I just whacked the boss of the mafia family with a feather duster.
"Since you're new, you must be initiated," he says. "Come with me. You're going to sit in on a meeting."
The word initiated sends a shiver down my spine. I can't figure out his context, but like a dutiful maid, I follow him into a private study. It's all mahogany and silk curtains, and he closes them, leaving the room to only be lit by some tall, soft lamps.
It's just us in the room, and the door is closed. I shuffle my feet awkwardly, grip tightening on the duster. Just when I'm about to ask if he's doing to do something to me, another man walks in, and the meeting begins.
YOU ARE READING
Mafia Darling
RomanceElla's mother sells her to the Italian-American mafia, and now she's a maid for a feared and ruthless family. Made to clean up messes and endure insults, she catches the eye of the boss, Marco. An inexperienced woman, she has no idea what she's in f...
