The Maid: Mafia Romance (Series)

Serving the God at Ungodly Hours

This was still my first day on the job, and I was still working. Apparently, that mafia boss really was true to his word. He planned to use me to the bones. Straight from collecting money, I was immediately ordered to cook them dinner. I couldn’t even get a glass of water to quench my parched throat. I was tossed into the kitchen and expected to cook a five-course meal fit for the king of the mafia.

He thinks I can’t live up to his expectations. Well, he’s wrong. I was the master chef in our household. Forcing me to cook something like a roast, that was my specialty.

At exactly 6:00 p. m. sharp, as promised, I served them dinner. Roast pork with crackling that could break your teeth and an abundance of roasted vegetables. The smell of my food was so succulent even I was salivating.

One thing I found out while working here, even though it had only been one day, was this clan, boss and underlings, ate together like a family, which I thought was a bit strange. Where’s Giovanni’s family? Is he an only child?

What the heck? This issue didn’t concern me one bit. I was all too eager to launch forward with my fork and fill my belly with delicious food.

We were all dishing up my succulent homemade meal when I looked up at the boss and muttered, “Gio, could you pass me the bowl of peas?”

Everyone at the dining table dropped their cutlery. Giovanni glared at me in a cutthroat manner.

Did I say something wrong? Am I not supposed to ask him? But the bowl of peas is right in front of him.

“You’re my servant, Jay. Never ever use my name,” Giovanni said coldly, his tone giving off another layer of ice.

“Okay,” I answered, nodding, not really taking the whole “ice glare” seriously. “But what happens on the off chance I forget?”

“Then it’s simple.” He laid his knife and fork on the table and looked directly at me, his hot lips in a thin, straight line. “I’ll just cut out your tongue.”

I gaped and stuttered, “But… but… if you cut out my tongue, how do we communicate? What happens if you want a flat white and I make you a short black instead?”

Giovanni clenched his jaws and his eye ticked, which meant he was pissed off. I smirked. I loved riling him up. Especially with what happened in the bathroom before. This could be my form of revenge on him. Hee-hee.

“Sorry, boss, you can go back to eating your dinner.” I dismissed him. I was about to dish up my second course since the first one didn’t do an ounce to fill my ravenous belly, when I was yanked out of my chair and somehow found myself on his lap, my head facing the floor and my bottom facing up.

Oh no, what’s he doing? And then…

Whack!

There was a collective gasp from everyone. I forced back my tears.

Giovanni smacked my bottom. This mafia boss smacked my bottom. So, he didn’t lie after all. He was capable of smacking me.

Was this why my nose had been twitching nonstop? Was this it?

Tears welled from my eyes. I forced them back and glared at him. No way would I give him the luxury of seeing me cry.

“Never, ever talk back to me, Jay. You have no right to use my name. I’m your master and you’re my servant. Remember, you’re a coffee machine.”

“But you call me Jay.” I got off his lap and yelled at him. Oh my, was I angry. Like really mad. I gave him my own interpretation of his stupid notion. “My name is Jenny, not Jay. So, shouldn’t I have the right to call you Gio instead of boss all the time?”

Giovanni stood to his full height, dwarfing me. He started poking his finger on my forehead as he made his declaration. “I’m your owner, Jay.” Poke. “I can call you whatever I like.” Poke. “You, on the other hand, must call me boss at all times.”

“Agh,” I squealed, slapping his finger off my forehead. I stood up higher, almost on tiptoe, and squared my shoulders, determined to give him my own version of the death glare, except it didn’t do me an ounce of good. Giovanni wasn’t even intimidated. Plus, I had to look up at him, which made me the one at a disadvantage since I was shorter than he is, by so many inches.

“That’s right, boss.” I emphasized the word boss just to let him know I was pissed with him. “I’m a coffee machine. And you know what? You’re not getting any coffee tonight until you apologize, and that’s the end of our conversation. If you feel the need to apologize, I’ll be in my closet.” I then stormed to my assigned room.

“I think you made the coffee machine angry,” I heard Bobby say just before I got out of earshot.

Once I got to my room, I yelled a thousand curses at him, enough to sting even his dead ancestors’ ears.

I couldn’t believe this. Getting spanked for calling him by his name? What’s so special about the name Gio anyway? Did he have a lover who called him by that name and now she was gone, so he was wounded?

Agh. Stupid idiot. You nincompoop.

I rubbed at my butt. My poor gluteus maximus. Now it stings. I’ll have to sleep on my stomach.

I slumped on my cot and thought about my dire situation. When would I ever get out of this hellhole? And how would I survive if he kept using me like this? I had college to attend, plus midterm exams coming up. I needed to study. If I worked twenty-four hours, around the clock like this, would I pass?

The thought really depressed me. I wished Pa would have thought about me for a bit before he took off like a thief and left me behind.

But then again, I actually had a roof over my head. I tried to smile and look on the bright side. At least I wouldn’t have to go homeless. Maybe Pa and Amelia were lying in the gutter somewhere right now. This thought didn’t sit well with me either.

A good two hours had passed. It was well past midnight. My eyes started drooping. Guess there wouldn’t be any apology coming from that mafia boss tonight. Then again, I was his servant. He did have a point. And at least he was kind enough not to kill me. I had a full day of classes planned tomorrow. I knew I’d better get some sleep. Wouldn’t want to appear in class with panda eyes.

I closed my eyes and fell asleep. Only for a second, though, before a disturbing knock jolted me awake. I jerked my eyes open, in turn flipping on my cellphone to check the time. 3:00 a. m. Who on earth is waking me at three in the morning? And didn’t I just fall asleep, like a second ago?

I pressed the pillows to my ears, trying hard to ignore that insistent knocking. Only for a good second. Suddenly, the door to my closet room burst open, revealing the silhouette of that Adonis in his human form.

“What do you want?” I burrowed my head into the pillow farther, knowing immediately it was the devil out to disturb my peaceful sleep.

It was only two small words from him, but I knew by morning, I’d have panda eyes for sure.

“My coffee.”

“I’ll make it in three hours. Go back to sleep.” I waved him off.

“Make my coffee. Now!” he growled, threw a pillow, which landed nicely and correctly on my forehead, and then slammed the door to my room, so hard even my soul was now shaking.

“Ugh,” I moaned, and drummed my head against the pillow three times. “I’ll poison you, Gio. I’ll definitely poison you with my coffee so you can’t think of anyone but me. Then you’ll give me some sleep.”

I whimpered as I padded out of my bed, half yawning, and made my way to the kitchen, prepping the machine and making Giovanni his ultimate flat white. Once done, I staggered in a zigzag to his office, once again half-yawning and talking to myself just to keep from dropping off.

“Morning, boss. You’re an early riser,” I commented, walking into his office and delivering his coffee to his desk.

I couldn’t help admiring Giovanni’s appearance at this time of night, or should I say morning? He looked so fresh, with his sleek black hair and suit and tie, sitting there behind his desk, conquering the world; compared to me, who was like a dead fish, gasping with no oxygen, what with my persistent yawning.

“I haven’t been to sleep yet,” he answered, making my head swing in his direction so fast I almost strained a neck muscle.

“What? Really, but it’s three in the morning. Aren’t you tired? I’m so tired right now.”

“And you’re yapping nonstop.” He glared at me from under his hooded black lashes, probably annoyed at my talkative behavior again.

“That’s me sleep talking,” I explained cheerfully, finding myself somewhere comfortable to sit. When I found the only available chair was the one positioned in front of his desk, I sat there and watched as he took a sip of his coffee.

I couldn’t divert my eyes from his lips. I wonder what they taste like. Not knowing what I was doing and through some unexplained phenomenal force, my face inched forward until I was literally staring at him right in front of his face.

“Your eyes are really black, like the night sky outside. I’ve never seen eyes like that before,” I commented, gazing at his jet-black pupils, somehow feeling a familiar ache in my heart.

Giovanni froze. He flicked his eyes to me and brought his face even closer to mine. From this distance, I had a clear view of his irises, which were now almost like a deep blue, swirling and mucky. I swallowed, struck by something odd and feeling somewhat hazy. Then he did something really peculiar. He grabbed my chin and tilted it from left to right, as if assessing my face for something. I blinked, cutting off the tense atmosphere.

Yikes! Did I drool in my sleep? That’s awful.

I wiped at my mouth, dislodging his fingers from my chin. I checked for any signs of wetness, but there were none. I heaved a sigh of relief. Thank God I didn’t drool.

Giovanni shook his head in confusion, the once intense raven irises now clear once more. “Did you think you drooled?” he had to ask, embarrassing me even further.

“What? Of course not.” Two peachy blossoms were already branded on my cheeks. “I just don’t like anyone touching my chin. That’s all. A soft and delicate girl like me doesn’t drool when she sleeps.”

“I thought people who sleep talk have their eyes closed. Your eyes are open.” He dismissed me and took another sip of his flat white.

“Haven’t you heard of people sleep talking while their eyes are open? I’m one of them.”

The atmosphere was once again lightened. When I saw him sipping the coffee like he had all the time in the world, I ended up making small talk.

“So, are you going to stay up all night and write threatening letters to people who don’t pay you… like that vegan man? I tell you. He has tons of cash stashed under his mattress. Good thing Bobby threatened to make him into breakfast. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have gotten your money at all. So, is this what mafias do? You go and collect money from people. So, you’re like some sort of money lending company, except with higher interest rates, right? Right?”

Giovanni glowered at me, shutting my nonsense right up. “Who gave you permission to talk? Your job is done. Go back to sleep.”

What? How could he wake me up in the middle of the night for a cup of coffee and demand I go back to sleep when I was fully awake. My eyes were as large as cans of sauce already.

“Fine. I’ll go,” I said, grumpily standing up.

“Jay, wait.” He caught my wrist, stopping me. A slight zap shot up my arm at his touch.

I looked at him. His eyes locked with mine. Something like an electric current passed between us again. I quickly jerked my hand away.

“What is it, bo-boss?” I stuttered, suddenly becoming aware of his body too close to mine. We were literally breathing the same air, his body wedged against mine.

Giovanni didn’t look at me. He just said the following, with his eyes fixed intently on my face. “Stay. Keep me company. Until I finish my coffee.”

I buckled back on the seat; my legs could no longer hold my weight. This time I didn’t talk. My heart was already doing all the talking, thumping like crazy in my chest. We just sat together in silence. I sat watching him sipping that steaming cup of flat white. After a while, my heart calmed and I couldn’t suppress the yawn from escaping my lips.

Giovanni quietly looked up at me and announced, “Go to sleep, Jay. You’re making my office unattractive.”

I stood from my spot, sending him a scolding look.Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.

Seriously, this mafia boss. He has pissed me right off. First he wants me to stay. Now he wants me to go. I just want to… I want to…