Mafia Darling

13 | Recovery (Ella)

"I'm glad you killed Niklas," I say hollowly. "I was horrified at first, but after seeing how fucking awful his family is, I'm sure he deserved it."

Marco says nothing as we drive back to the house. We go in through a back door no one uses; he doesn't want to have to answer to anyone now. I'm afraid he'll tell me to go back to the maid quarters, but he lets me cling to him and go up to his room. Once inside, he curses and slams his gun into a drawer.

"Fuck!" He snaps. "Jesus fucking Christ. I was..." He looks at me and turns red, staring at the floor. "I was trying to give you a light, happy time. I wanted us to get to know each other. But those good-for-nothing, sons of bitches, wastes of air--"

"Marco," I say quietly, and he stops. "I was enjoying the date. You don't have to apologize. I'm glad you saved me."

He stares at me. "You think it was a date?"

I tilt my head. "Wasn't it?"

"It was," he admits, "but...I wasn't sure you liked me that way."

His sheepishness makes me smile. Could it be, he's as insecure as me?

He sits on the couch, and I make myself at home on the recliner, hiking my legs up and leaning heavily against the armrest.

"There's a medic on the third floor," he says, tilting his head back and closing his eyes.

I shake my head. "Maybe tomorrow. I'm feeling fine now."

"Your face is red."

"That's nothing an ice pack won't fix. I'll get one later. You should go to the medic."

He looks down at the little cuts on him and shakes his head. "Superficial wounds. Papercuts." He shrugs. "I'll be fine."

I rest my head on my arm, watching him watch me. "How did you end up here?" I whisper.

He closes his eyes again. "I was born into it. I won't lie and say the mafia is a wholesome thing. We're shitty people, but I like it here, but I'm not deluding myself into thinking I'm a good person. I mean," he chuckles, "we bought most of our staff, for Christ's sake."

"Do you think of me as an object?" I ask quietly.

He straightens in surprise. "An object? No, no. As the help, as something...unimportant, yes, but not an object. I thought of you as any other maid until initiation, and then I started to..." He blushes. "To like you. I don't know why, but I can't get my mind off you. I wanted to be your friend, to see if we could be something more, and the errand run was just the beginning, but Niklas's dumbass family ruined it and hurt you."

I stare at him. He could have any girl he wanted, paid or not. There must be dozens of hotshot mafia women out there with the right bank accounts and the right bodies and the right lineage, but it's me he's pursuing. The thought sends a warm feeling through my core, and I stand up.

"Ella?" he says questioningly when I get near him.

I cup his face in my hands, peering down at him. Then I lower my head until my lips are touching his, and I kiss him once, softly, firmly, his hands curling over mine. Ecstasy shoots through me. I want to capture the lightning in a bottle that is his inexplicable attraction toward me, and I want that lightning to become a thunderstorm, and I want us to be lost in our love for each other. I've never wanted something so badly.

But I let go.

"I'm tired," I whisper. "I'm going back to my room."

He touches his lips and nods. "Okay."