The Maid: Mafia Romance (Series)

Jenny

My world, at the moment, was crumbling down faster than the Berlin wall. Dear Ma up in heaven, please help me.

It was now six p. m., and I was home late. All because of my damned phone. Well, I really should blame myself for being clumsy in the first place. If I hadn’t stupidly dropped the phone in the glass of water, then I wouldn’t be one hour late. Or maybe it was because I lost track of time, since I was having fun hanging out with Crispin, checking out the new boys’ love manga. Either way, I was dead meat.

Why must I feel like this? Sneaking around the house like I was hiding something. Was I betraying Giovanni’s trust by hanging out with Crispin?

Surely not. Crispin was my friend first. Giovanni only came into my world just a few months back. There have to be priorities in a person’s life, and Crispin was one of my priorities. Well, our friendship was.

But Giovanni …

Ahhh. What should I do? Or better yet, what would he do?

Ohhhh… I knew what he would do. He’d start by roasting me, then grilling me, until he found out why I was home late.

That was his personality. No talking. Just straight to action. Kill before negotiation.

All I hoped for now was that I’d arrived home before he did. And maybe with a little peace offering, like this heart croissant I bought for him from Café Love Sick, we’d be all sugar and spices again.

Except my hope was dashed the moment I saw his Maserati parked in the front. I rushed into the kitchen, only to collide with Heath.

“Heath, so sorry,” I puffed out.

Heath just stared down at me without so much as a flinch on his face. If I didn’t know him any better, I would be afraid of him. But Heath was just a gigantic man who was soft as a teddy bear.

“Have you seen Boss around?” I asked.

“He is looking for you.”

Five words. That was all he said, and I was already shivering in my shoes.

“In his office?”

He nodded and walked off.

I nodded, too, while trying my best to gulp down the fear that rode up my throat.

I didn’t know how to behave in this kind of situation. What was I to him at this moment? His maid, his coffee machine, or his lover? Depending on my status, the punishment would differ. And it was too damned early to know where I stood. I had been his maid and coffee machine for more than three months. I was his lover for less than a week.

I left my gift on the kitchen counter, put on my brave face, and sauntered off to his study. Without waiting for an answer, I knocked three times and poked my head in.

“Boss, you were looking for me?” I asked casually, when inside, my heart was quaking like a scared mouse.

“You’re late,” he snapped, his eyes glaring at me.

“Sorry, I forgot the time,” I tweeted, frozen in place.

“What were you doing at this hour?”

Giovanni strode toward me and stood just a hair’s breadth away. He glared down at me. I lifted my eyes and stared back at him… only for my breath to be knocked out of my lungs. Figuratively, of course.

Up this close, I was reminded of how handsome a man he really was. He was the representation of a black panther: angry, nostrils all flared up, and eyes like a soundless black pit, that if I fell in I could never get back up. But to me, he was so alluring and tempting, I wanted to be stuck in this black pit forever.

But he was angry. And I didn’t want that. I didn’t want my lover to be angry at me. We could talk. Explain ourselves, then kiss and make up.

Or did he still see me as his maid right now?

“I went out for lunch with a friend, then we hung out,” I explained quietly, my eyes slowly glistening.

One second ticked by. Two seconds ticked by. I just stood there, my eyes downcast, like a child waiting to be scolded by her parents. There was not a single word that came out of his mouth. All was silent. And it scared the hell out of me.

When he was all loud and stupidly yelling at his underlings, I could handle him, but when he was like this, all silent and serious, I didn’t know what to do. He must be really angry. He must be-

There was a flash of action, then I was cradled by the head and pushed back until I was pressed up against the wall. It took only one second for me to grasp on to the situation that Giovanni was kissing me, with such force and passion, my toes curled upward.

“What the fuck are you doing to me, Jay?” he said huskily beside my ear. Shivers ran down my spine the instant his lips touched mine. Then he kissed me again.

This time, he took it further by dragging his lips to the corner of my jaw until he reached the nape of my neck. Slowly and gently, he sucked at that site. He grew aggressive, biting me right there, tempting me right there, seducing me right there, until I was throbbing inside.

I was shaking all over, my legs unable to support me. I leaned onto him, using him as support.

“Boss,” I rasped against him. “Boss.”

I was quickly losing myself. I was quickly becoming undone.

Giovanni’s kisses weren’t real. This was only my illusion, morphed by my desire to end our argument with a kiss.

“Jennifer, I’ll die for you, you know that,” he growled, cradling my cheeks on both sides, his eyes refocused on me. “I’ll fucking die for you if something were to happen to you.”

That voice. His tone. Such strong sentiment in those words. This was all too real. He was too real to me.

How could I have thought this was an illusion. The evidence was there in his eyes, deep pools of black, so dark I was already lost in them. And those jaws, taut, clenching so tightly, the muscles contracted painfully.

“Boss,” I tenderly touched his jaw, causing them to relax. We were divided by an inch of air. The atmosphere between us rippled with sexual tension. I inhaled air into my oxygen-starved lungs and rested my forehead against his, pacifying him. “Don’t say stuff like that.”

“I can, and I’ll fucking declare it now.” His left hand was cradling my face, his fingers gently stroking my tender cheek. I leaned into that palm, seeking comfort I didn’t know I craved. “Don’t ever run from me, Jennifer. I don’t think I can bear it if you’re not here beside me.”

Giovanni sounded afraid. And he was never afraid. In fact, he only inflicted fear onto people. I, who stood here in front of him, had this much influence on him.

“I’m not going anywhere.” I comforted him. “Can’t you see, I’m still here? Beside you.”

“Mmm.” He purred.

He was the black panther, orbiting around me, breathing in my scent, as if these actions could pacify his inner turmoil, reassuring him that I was here, breathing the same air as him.

What had become of this mafia boss? How had I ever thought he’d hurt me? Here he was, holding me so tenderly, like I was someone precious to him. I should feel ashamed for even thinking he was capable of hurting me.

But he was a mafia boss, after all. How far would our charade go? How long before he woke up from this dream of his and found out I was no longer his Jennifer? But I was willing to play along, to pretend I was his Jennifer. Because, until my memory came back, I was not convinced that I was his.

If only he would stop calling me his Jennifer. If only he would accept me for who I was now. If only…