Page 100 of Mafia And Maid
She’s a complete goddess, every single curve of her.
Catching her hand, I pull her to me. And settling her body between my legs, I wrap my arms around her middle, dropping a soft kiss to her covered shoulder, then neck.
Her surprised squeak delights me far more than it should. And after a minute, she relaxes against my chest.
“Are you having fun?” I ask.
“Yes. And it’s great that Ethan is so happy here.”
The soft admission twists something in my gut. Sparking some urge to tear the world down for both of them. I’ll enact my vengeance on their behalf before it’s all over. They’ll never know that kind of horror again. “Good.”
Rosa watches Ethan closely. “I don’t know how to say thankyou.”
“For?”
“This. For Ethan being safe and happy.”
“You don’t need to thank me or any of us.”
“I do.”
My brow crinkles. “I mean it. I want you both to feel comfortable here. I want you to relax, to enjoy yourselves.”
Her head bobs, but I can still feel the tension in her shoulders against my chest. I don’t know how to convince her of this. I don’t know how to prove it to her. The words I want to say are buried so deep that I’m not even sure they exist. They’re overshadowed by other things—darker things—things I hope she’ll never have to see from me.
Because the moment she does, it’s all going to come crashing down.
“Still, thank you,” she says softly.
“You’re welcome.”
“This is nice.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she exhales.
I smile, resting my chin on the top of her head as Ethan continues to play. It feels right, having her in my arms like this. Natural in some foreign way I can’t articulate. “Good.”
Silence fills the space. I don’t know how to broach the topic that burns my tongue. It’s there, bubbling to be let out. “Rosa?”
“Yes?”
“Do I scare you?” The words come out in a soft whisper. The urge to know the truth, to know if I’m seeing something here that she doesn’t in fact feel, burns hot through me. And the insecurity of it all makes a bead of sweat trickle down the back of my neck. Is she going along with this because I intimidate her? Or she feels obligated because of some fucked up notion she has after I gave her a job?
“No.”
My heart stops. “No?”
“Well…” A slight shrug lifts her shoulders. “Sometimes. At first, yes. But not for a while now.” She hesitates. “You’re kind—and that’s what really scares me.”
“Me being nice to you scares you?”
Wordlessly, she nods, and I tug her closer. She doesn’t elaborate more, and I don’t force her. She’s a survivor, and the trauma has lefttoo many wounds to heal right now. A sentiment I know all too well. “I don’t want to scare you… But I know I scare everyone.”
“Only at first, Camillo.”
A dry laugh leaves my lips. “It’s my job to be a monster, to be a beast that keeps everyone in line…” My tongue feels swollen in my mouth as if the words are some buried secrets that I can’t pry out.