Marrying Mr. Mafia

Chapter 1

Ellie

"You never had a job, you don't have a set address, and you graduated High School with a 2.3 GPA. Tell me, why should I hire you?"

My palms were soaked in sweat, my head was feeling heavy and I was on the verge of crying.

But I was far from showing any sign weakness in front of this inconsiderate asshole.

"First of all, I don't think you should hire me. I know you should hire me, because, unlike the rest of your staff, I don't take anyone's shit. Including yours. Matter of fact, don't hire me. But one thing  you won't do is sit here and disrespect me. Goodbye, Mr. Santiago."

I left his office.

Disrespect was something that I wasn't raised off of. I hate when people felt the need to belittle someone that wasn't raised the same way as them.

In my state of rage, I ran into something, or someone.

"Excuse me." The voice spoke.

I nearly shat my pants. His accent was the most sexiest thing I've ever heard. It was like the sound of panty's dropping and a water fall flowing.

But my anger wouldn't let me be great.

"You're excused. Next time watch where you're going."

"Cagna." He muttered.

I didn't know what that meant but it was sexy as shit. I kept walking.

I'm going to google that later on.

~

20 minutes after leaving that god awful coffee shop, I realized that I left something quite valuable behind. Something that had my whole life in it and the only expensive thing I owned.

My cellphone.

I was sitting on the bus and boredom struck me. I reached into my bag in hopes to finding my only means to entertainment. As I searched for my phone in a hectic state, the bus was already leaving from the bus stop.

James

"Cagna." The word left my mouth before I could realize it.

I was grateful that the little woman couldn't speak Italian. Or so I hoped. She kept walking as if nothing was wrong. Her little body swayed perfectly. My eyes couldn't stop watching her hips.

"Mr. Bianchi! It's nice to see--"

"My money, Santiago."

"Yes, yes of course. Let's discuss this in my office."

I followed the short and chubby man into the small office.

He pulled out an envelope and just at the look of it I could tell it wasn't all of it.

"Where's my money, Santiago?"

"I-it's right here, Mr. Bianchi, sir."

He handed it to me and I opened it.