I was taken to the maid quarters, where I found myself sharing a room with two white girls, Glory and Zoe. Despite our differences, they were friendly and welcoming, showing no judgment based on my skin color. It was a small comfort in this terrifying
place.Glory told me how she ended up here. Her father owed The Boss a huge debt, so she had to work it off as a maid. Zoe, on the other hand, had witnessed a crime committed by one of The Boss's men, and instead of being killed, she was taken in as a maid.
When I shared my story, they pitied me. This place was clearly dangerous. According to them, women were often raped by these men. We serve them in every way, Zoe had said, her eyes filled with sadness.
I cried for hours after hearing this. The Boss didn't care what happened to his workers. The thought of being violated again filled me with dread. I promised myself I'd do everything I could to stay out of trouble, but how can I when my uniform looks more like lingerie? My breasts are practically on full display, and my nipples, stubborn as ever, refuse to calm down.
My ass, too... and my unruly hair is everywhere, untamed because I just don't have the strength to deal with it right now.
Leon gave me a few clothes and some panties that didn't even fit properly. This was one of those times I hated my hourglass figure.
"You look like the IT girl," Zoe said with a smile.
I smiled back, "Thank you."
But inside, I felt defeated. "How am I supposed to avoid trouble when I look like this?" I asked, feeling the weight of my appearance.
"Don't worry about that, girl," Glory chimed in. "Just follow the rules, keep your head down, and always finish your duties on time."
Taking her advice to heart, I headed to the hall where we were assigned our daily duties. As I walked in, I could feel the other maids glaring at me, their eyes full of hatred and envy. I scanned the room, hoping to spot Nora, but she was nowhere to be found. I wondered where she was and if she was alright.
"Attention, maids!" a gray-haired woman called out, her voice dripping with authority. She began explaining the rules, but I zoned out, not wanting to face the reality of what my life had become. She started handing out duties in groups.
"Pray she doesn't assign you to kitchen duty," Glory whispered in my ear. "That's where you'll get noticed."
Of course, with my luck, I was assigned to the kitchen. I caught a condemning glare from the head maid, Samaya, who seemed like she was always on edge.
always made me uneasy with all the frying and chaos. It pissed me off. And now, here I was, assisting professional-looking chefs, slicing vegetables.
They had this weird rule about not looking them in the eye or starting conversations. How can I work and stay silent like some kind of dummy? I wondered to myself, feeling the frustration build.
The chefs moved around in a frenzy, as if the world was about to end. So this is my life now? I thought bitterly. Cutting vegetables and playing dumb every single day?
"You!" An angry-looking chef barked at me.
"Hand over the oregano," he said, his voice laced with impatience.
I blinked. "Uhm... I don't know what that is," I replied, looking him straight in the eye, which clearly pissed him off. Before I could even react, he slapped me hard across the face. Blood started to drip from my nose.
I glared at him, feeling a surge of rage. "Bitch, I have serious anger issues," I spat, my tone defiant.
The other maids gasped, and I saw the chef coming at me like a wild animal. I hissed in response, bracing myself.
But then he stopped, mid-stride. His face turned pale, and I noticed the whole kitchen had gone silent. Everyone was staring at something—or someone—at the door.
Standing there was no other than the most beautiful man I had ever seen. He wore a sleek black suit, with his dress shirt's sleeves rolled up, revealing veiny, tattooed arms. His long fingers were adorned with silver rings, catching the light with every subtle movement.
Fuck, I could feel a shameful rush of excitement. Get yourself together, Angel, I scolded myself internally.
"What's going on here? Why is my breakfast not ready" His deep, authoritative voice sent a shiver down my spine.
"S-sir, this... this black whore here was throwing insults at me!" the chef stammered, visibly shaking.
"I wasn't," I said boldly. "He told me to bring... whatever the hell oregano is, knowing fully well I'm an African black whore," I added sarcastically, glaring at the chef. The room went silent, and I caught a horrified look from Glory, warning me of the danger I'd just put myself in.
He looked at me with emotionless, cold eyes. I stared back, feeling like a fool. The silence was thick enough that the drop of a pin would have echoed through the room.
"So... you delay my meal because you can't get your shit together," he said, deadly calm, as he pulled out a gun.
Oh no... oh no... I'm dead, I thought, feeling all the color drain from my face.
Bang!
The sound pierced the air, and I froze. The chef's body crumpled to the floor, lifeless. My breath caught in my throat as my eyes watered. First Mom, then Dad... now him. I keep getting people killed... I deserve to die too.
Before I could process the horror, he yanked me towards him, his touch electrifying, sending unwelcome shivers through me. Butterflies swirled in my stomach at the contact, a confusing mix of fear and something else.
I caught Glory's sympathetic look, but I couldn't focus on anything except the overwhelming guilt and the terrifying man in front of me.
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YOU ARE READING
Mafia's African Rose
ActionA Nigerian woman, finds herself trapped in a dangerous world of organized crime. she's forced to work as a maid for a powerful mafia boss who shows no mercy. Struggling to keep her head down in a brutal environment, Angel faces physical and emotiona...