Not Gone....

Chapter three.

Miranda POV:
My name is Miranda Brook. I used live on the streets of New York. Until one day this old women came up to me. She helped me get a job as the maid of Daniel McClain. I never really saw him before the Incident this morning. I was left speechless. He was just as beautiful as the other maids described him. His jawline could probably cut my finger if I am being honest. And his eyes, I could just get lost in them. I shake the thoughts away as u notice how weird I am being.

So, Anyways I am currently walking toward his bedroom.
I was assigned to clean it since Ms. Gilbert was ill this morning.
All I hope is that he isn't in there. Cause that would be awkward af.
I gently open the door. I walk in slowly.
No one. I sigh in relief. There is really nothing to do In here.
Everything is in place after all.
All I have to do is make his bed and clean his bathroom.
I walk over to his bed and make it. His bedsheets are white just like the walls in here. After I make his bed.
I quickly clean his bathroom. It's beautiful and probably bigger than all the maids quarters combined.
As I am dusting his bedside table. I decide to pick up a picture of a boy and girl.
The girl is absolutely flawless. Blue eyes just like mine, but bigger and full of hope.
Her brown silky curls fall onto her shoulder.
She is hugging a boy that looks older then her.
He has blue eyes and soft brown hair.
I see his eyes which are full of love and admiration for the little girl.
I inspect the picture closely.
I am left speechless. That is Daniel.
He is smiling. And according to the maids he never smiles because of a tragedy.
If that's Daniel then who's the girl?
"I recommend that you put the picture down and continue cleaning miss Brook," a voice says harshly.
I turn around and see Daniel standing by the door.
"Yes, sir," I say quietly. I put it down slowly. I continue to dust as I feel his gaze.
"She was my best friend," he says out of the blue.
I turn around to face him and nod.
"I love-loved her," he says getting closer to me.
I look into his deep blue eyes and ask "loved?"
"Yes, sh- never mind you are dismissed," he finishes. He picks up the picture and inspects it.
He softly placed his finger on the little girls face.
He whispers something that was  reserved.
"I will leave now." He nods. I give him one last look as I leave the room.
I see a tear fall down his cheek.
I guess the most feared Mafia leader does have a weakness.
And his weakness is the girl in the picture....