Page 49 of Mafia And Maid

“Here I am.” I take a long sip of the orange juice Rosa squeezed fresh this morning.

“We need you to go solve a problem.”

“Right now?” I motion to my food and the newspaper with its pristine pages that I’ve clearly been ignoring. “Or are you going to allow me to finish my breakfast first?”

“Shove it in your mouth, and let’s go. Marco is waiting.”

“Morning to you too,” I mutter.

I swallow the last mouthful of my pancake and down the rest of my glass.

“Thanks, Rosa,” I say in a low voice as I pass.

Then I try to clear my mind and focus on the task ahead. As nice as it’s been having a tidy room, clean house, and amazing home-cooked meals, I need to stay the fuck away. I’ve never had this problem before. I’ve never felt so out of control. Like I’m spiraling, and I can’t stop. I’m pissed. At the world. At Rosa. At the way her perfect curves fill out her clothes.

But more so I’m pissed at myself. For letting my dick run the show. For letting that little voice of hope I thought burned to a crisp years ago flicker back to life and convince me someone like Rosa would find a man like me worthy.

It’s temporary, I tell myself over and over with each step away from the kitchen. The fixation will pass in a few weeks like it always does, and it’ll be back to business as usual. She’s new and intriguing, and my body sees it as a challenge. Something new to sink my teeth into.

My anger flares. Because I can’t be responsible for someone else. I can’t have something as heavy as that on my shoulders. But watching how she yelps, cowers, and tries to make herself small in every interaction, it makes me want to protect her in every way possible.

She’s temporary.That’s what I have to keep reminding myself of. She’s only here until Marco sends her packing. He says she passed the trial, but we all know how volatile he is. He’ll end up firing her—one way or another—just like he has everyone else.

I need to get her out of my head.

I need to hit the gym. Do something to distract me from the flood of arousal pumping through my body. And then, I’ll take the longest cold shower known to man. Or I need to kill someone—in the most brutal way possible

Because I need to distract myself so that I stop thinking about doing depraved things to her that will only fuck up my carefully laid out life.

But do I?That small annoying voice in the back of my head whispers as I slide into my SUV. My hands curl around the steering wheel, and I shudder out a deep breath. That’s the problem with hope. It flickers to life and refuses to fucking die.

There’s no world in which I can taste the forbidden fruit and not get addicted. I wish that little voice would just go for good. Leave me in peace for once in my life.

She’s off-limits. She’s a reminder of everything I want but can’t have. And the sooner my body fucking gets with the program, the easier this is going to be.

Because it’s wrong. It’s so very wrong to want something I can’t have. To taunt myself with the idea of what it could be like to have her and taste her the way my body wants to.

Yeah, I’m well and truly fucked.

But I’m not even sure I care.

***

I feel like a fucking teenager. My palms are sweaty, and my heart is racing like I’ve just run the estate twice over. I hate this feeling, and yet, the rush of adrenaline pumping through my body is hard to ignore.

This is stupid.

Of course, it is. But I can’t stop now.

I think of Rosa’s nervous, scared look every time she looks at me. It’s burned into my brain, and it only makes my blood boil. I don’t want her to look at me like that, even though she should.

I’m the monster the devil’s afraid of, but I don’t want to be like that with her. I want to be something else—something I don’t think I can be.

I knock at her bedroom door before I can chicken out and stop myself.

With one quick check down the hall to ensure none of my siblings are lingering to witness what I’m sure will be a dumpster fire of a disaster, I wait. It’s early, and they’re probably still asleep.

I inhale sharply, impatience swimming through me.