The Don's Maid [18+]

28

My father who I had started to call Papa, had insisted I stay at the mansion inspite of me not wanting to. My way of thinking was not to be a burden on my father when I had just given him my intro.

But I had a guess that he knew that I was going to meet him before I even landed in Italy.

But he had done everything in his power to make me stay. In a way it was alright because I no longer had to find a place to live. Papa had also arranged the most teen-girly room for me. Majority of the room was dominated by silver and white with a circular be at the middle with lacey ornate hanging from the ceiling that worked as curtains for the windows of the circular room.

The room was small, alright but the decor was rich and sophisticated then I had ever seen a room to be. The right hand side was occupied by a door that led to a bathroom cum closet, which was almost empty now, except for the cloths I had brought.

The thing I loved most was that after having a shower I didn't had to walk outside in towel to change, I could just shower and walk to the closet that was connected to the bathroom and change.

The day I arrived to the estate papa had somebody pick up my things from the hotel and pay the bills. Now after two weeks I was well settled and relaxed. I had heard every bit of my father's story from him, all of his part and now that I try to connect his story with mama's I feel like he was bounded while my mother was left alone. She felt betrayed when he didn't understand her love for him when he was already in love.

It's a bit complex, their story but he did come to mama's funeral...and that increased my respect for him a little bit.

In these days I also took over the kitchen though papa said that there was people to do this kind of work but everytime I said, I had nothing better to do all day.

Rodericko would show up now and then, for lunch or dinner but never for breakfast.

It would be wrong to say I wasn't annoyed by him, he was sassy, sarcastic and rude. The fact that papa treated him more like a saint then a brat didn't make . He'd flirt with the young maids and spend the night in some club and whatnot. All type of bad habits were it for Rodericko. He'd smoke inside the house have whiskey with lunch.

The man who talked to me sweetly upon my arrival unannounced to the state was someone not so Redricko like. But with passing time I could gauze his colours. He was as well as the other guys involved with the Mafia.

"Can you not just do that?" I asked as the smoke from his cigarette filled my nostrils making my cough out loud.

"No." He grinned putting his feet over the tea table. "Do you want one?" He asked taking out a stick of cigarette from the packet.

"No." I said flipping the pages of the recepie book trying to find out what to cook for dinner.

"You're boring." He pouted puffing out another ring of smoke. "I expected you to be more badass you know for living in the States."

I rolled my eyes at him, it was our daily conversation, him telling me how boring I was and this and that, that'd make you want to punch him in the face but all I did was roll my eyes at the great ass.

But one thing was certain in these days through the mean talks and eye rolls I had developed a brotherly feeling with him. He'd stick around to taste the desert that I was cooking or stealing some cookie dought just to spite me or anything.

"Do you not want togo sightseeing? You just sit here read through stupid cook-books all the fucking day and not do anything." He bursted out.

"Huh?"

"People who visit Europe usually want to see the vineyards and stuff but you just read cook-books why are you so boring? And why do I have to baby-sit you?" He rolled his eyes. "I could be doing thing much more productive."

I snort. "Nobody asked you to baby-sit me. And plus I am older."

"By a month! Lord! By a month!" He yelled. "Do want to go out or what?"

"No."

"You're fat!" He yelled again as he stormed out of the sitting room his German-sheperd Stroke hot on his heels.

Honestly...Rodericko had the patience level of a tea spoon. I rolled my yes. How did he got such a big place in the Mafia was something to wonder about since his comments and IQ is that of a kids.

Rodericko was a boy who papa found on the street selling drugs at the age do seven to earn for a living. He took him in and trains him as a Capo, but he was more like a son then a troop leader.

The Mafia of Italy worked by Rodericko's command. He had taken the string of the underworld business all to himself while papa handled the wine and oil factories.

It was surprising at such young age he had accomplished dangerous things.

With a sigh I got up from the sofa and walked to the kitchen where Rodericko was sitting and feeding Stroke from a ceramic bowl that held biscuits.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Feeding, Stroke." He rolled his eyes.

"Why are you feeding him biscuits?"

"Cause...he wants to eat them?"

I sigh as I put the pan on the stove and open up the cans of tomato puree taking from out from the fridge.

"What are you making for dinner?" He asks.

"Cream Pasta?"

"Can you make Risotto for me? I want to eat Risotto." He pouts.

"Okay." I sighed holding back the comment that I was about to deliver and look for the rice packet. "Do you know where the rice is?"

"Does it look it I do?" He rolls his eyes taking a seat on the barstool after pouring some of the white wine to Stroke's ceramic bowl who started to lap it out with quite curiosity.

"Are you supposed to give him wine?" I asked looking Stroke drink the liquid.

"Honestly, I don't know " He eyes his dog.

I found the rice in a glass jar and started to make risotto for him, ignoring the half drunk dog.

He reminds me of Aless at lot times but I try to live with it. The feelings only surface when I am alone in my room, when the bed is empty and cold...when I try not to cry myself to sleep. But everytime I end up failing miserably.

"Maybe you should open up a diner and put your boring life in use." Rodericko suggests eating his food as I plate Papa's one.

"Yeah?" I ask.

He nods eating. "Yeah. A little cozy pink diner for cute little annoying couples." He rolls his eyes.

"With cliche small chandeliers and candles?" I add.

"And that little naked Cupid peeing fountain at the front. You'd be rich in no time."

I might just take his idea into consideration... well maybe not the Cupid fountain but the rest...maybe.

[A|N]

There'll be a time jump next chapter. That's all I gotta say.

Question of the Chapter:

(Read) FanFictions OR Poems.

I'm not really a poem person since I take the meanings all jumbled so I'd rather take reading FanFictions.

-November.