Page 26 of Mafia And Maid

“What was what?” he snaps with his trademark impatience.

“That.” I point to the kitchen where Rosa no longer stands. She’d quietly mumbled an excuse and moved into the hallway. “It’s her first fucking day!”

“Why should I pretend to be nice now when I won’t be later?” he clips. “There’s no point in sugarcoating shit.”

Walking in on Marco hovering over Rosa like that sent red across my vision. I only stopped myself because Rosa was almost in front of me, and there was no way in hell I was knocking her aside just to pummel Marco.

What the hell has gotten into me?

She’s the maid. She works here, and I warned her what they were like. It’s not my problem how Marco and Alessio talk to her. But it sure as shit feels like I need to stand between them and Rosa. She’d gonepale, and her eyes glistened with tears—but she’d nodded mutely, just taking it.

“You,” I start, leaning forward in my seat, “told me to find a fucking maid. I found one.”

“She needs to learn, Millo,” Alessio says in a serious tone, swallowing a bite of his salad with a grimace.

I eyeball Marco. “You don’t have to be so pissed off with her, Marco,” I say as I eyeball him.

“I’m always pissed off in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Look, I know you’re missing Juliana and the kids, but don’t take it out on Rosa.”

“Why do you care? And did she tell you that she can cook?”

“Yeah, she said that she could kind of cook,” I say slowly. “Why?”

“Judging by the look and taste of this food, it’s obvious she was lying just to get the job. And there’s no way you, AKA Mr. Greedy Guts, is going to put up with a maid who can’t cook. I should just give her the flick now. It looks like she’s gonna be a crier as well, and you goddamn know that I can’t fucking stand that.”

“Look, Marco,” I begin, but my words come to a halt as Rosa tiptoes back into the kitchen, her face a beautiful cold mask as she looks past us and stands by the stove. Her hand trembles as she starts to clear up.

“You,” Alessio clips at Rosa, “and I need to talk.”

Rosa lifts her head before dropping her eyes, and as I watch my brother glare at her, every muscle in my body constricts.

“You messed up my closet. I have a system for a reason,” he growls as his knuckles whiten around his fork.

“Everything is sorted into color-coded order,” Alessio continues. “If you can’t do it right, don’t goddamn do it.”

“For God’s sake, Alessio,” I say. “Just about every item of clothing you own is black, so how can it have an order?”

“Even black has different shades, numbnuts, and my black clothes are all organized into a graduated order.”

“Cry me a fucking river,” I snap, taking another long gulp of my water. “Give her half a chance, and she’ll learn your anally retentive ways.”Why the hell am I defending her?

Rosa just nods and turns back to the sink, and we get on with the meal. And although it smells okay, the food is far from good—and I cantell that my brothers are thinking exactly the same thing. The steak is overcooked and dry, the fries are still raw and hard in the middle, and the salad dressing is too sharp with way too much vinegar. Thank God Marco doesn’t point this all out to her—it would probablyfinish heroff.

Conversation between my brothers fills the room, but I don’t join in unless addressed. I spend most of dinner watching her.

From the outside, the woman is a skittish, meek, little kitten who a big bad wolf like me could play with and ruin until nothing’s left. But there’s something else there as well.

Secrets.

And secrets are a dangerous thing.

Because the more I watch her, busying herself with meaningless crumbs and specks of dust none of us would have ever even noticed, the more I sense there’s something else which she’s not telling us.

I’m not like Alessio who considers every angle before the attack. And I’m not like Marco who’s like a finely honed knife. I’m blunt and to the fucking point. A bludgeon we use against anyone we deem unworthy. It’s my job to tear down anyone and everything in order to protect our family and the Fratellanza. And as much as I’d like to think Rosa isn’t a threat, she’s a puzzle I can’t figure out. And that’s worse.

I need to figure it out. Then maybe I can explain this feeling in my chest and the way she draws my attention unlike anyone else has ever done. Because once I know what makes her tick, I can protect my family if things go sideways...