Page 50 of Mafia And Maid

“Mr. Camillo?” She still won’t drop the Mr., but maybe she will in time.

The air from my lungs seizes in my chest as Rosa’s body fills the small gap in the door. She’s wearing that oversized T-shirt that just brushes the top of her thighs again.

I can just make out the outline of the curves of her breasts which are bare beneath the fabric. She looks beautiful early in the morning. She looks beautiful all the time, but something about seeing her sleepy-eyed does something to me.

Something I’m ready to acknowledge.

“Is something wrong? Did I do something?”

I shake my head, “No. Uh… I…” This is so much harder than it sounded in my head twenty minutes ago when I came up with this plan.

The urge to know more about her has been clawing at my insides. It’s a compulsion almost as bad as needing to feel my knuckles wrapped and bloody. “Go for dinner. With me.” My words blurt out.

Her brown eyes widen, and I watch as her tongue darts over her lip. “I’m sorry?”

“I mean, er, would you like to go to dinner with me?” I take a big gulp. “Um, please?”

“Me?” she squeaks.

I nod. “Yeah.” This is where I should tell her that I want to get to know her, spend time with her… “You’ve been, er, working really hard. I figured it was the least, um, we could do for you.”

Christ, why do I sound so fucking feeble? I’m used to telling my soldiers every single day exactly what I want, so why can’t I just tell her that I fucking want to take her on a date?

“I…” That bottom lip of hers is sucked beneath her teeth, and my gaze zeroes in on it. She’s going to reject me. Of course, she is. A woman like Rosa doesn’t want to be seen with a man like me. My body goes rigid in the doorway as I shove my hands into my pockets. “Okay. Sure.”

I blink slowly, trying to process what she’s just said. “I’ll make arrangements to have takeout ordered for everyone else,” I say quickly before she can change her mind. “So, you don’t need to worry about anything tonight except going out and enjoying the meal. I’ll meet you downstairs at seven. Okay?”

A tentative smile graces her face, and I can feel my heart stutter. She should smile more often, and the fact that she doesn’t is a crime against humanity. She mumbles a thank you and closes the door.

The entire jog up the stairs to my room feels like I’ve won the lottery.

It’s selfish. It’s the wrong thing to be happy about. But I need to know her more. I need to crack into the hard shell around her and find what makes her tick.

I know it’s foolish to indulge myself when nothing will come of it. When it’ll only lead to a crash and burn. But I can’t help it. Not with Rosa.

***

After finishing work for the day, there’s still about three hours until I take her to dinner. I pass the time in the gym, allowing my nervous energy to pour out into each jab and punch against the canvas bag.

Eventually, the world around me fades, and it’s just me and my demons wrestling for dominance, the darkness pulling me under.

When the alarm on my phone sounds, I snap back to reality. The nerves that I managed to ease now return tenfold. I run up the stairs, shirt yanked over my head before I even make it to my room. I kick the pile of clothing from my path as I toss my shirt onto the floor. I know I should try to be tidier after all the efforts Rosa’s made with my room, but today, I can’t help it as an agitated feeling skitters through me.

After showering, I jog down the stairs while buttoning the sleeves of my dress shirt. It’s suffocating despite the breathable fabric. If we weren’t going somewhere so public, I wouldn’t have bothered.

My foot hits the last step, and I inhale deeply, checking my reflection in the mirror. The top layer of my hair is tied back, and the edges of my ink peek out from under my collar.

I hate dressing up, but it’ll all be worth it. I need to put to rest whatever hold Rosa has over me. That’s the only way I’ll be able to think clearly with her around. Once the distraction is gone, I’ll be able to focus on whatever the fuck I need to.

“You know, don’t you, that you don’t have to dress up to take your hand on a date?”

I whirl to face Alessio who is leaning against the archway.

“Fuck off. I thought you were still working.”

“I am. The question is, Millo, what areyoudoing?”

“I’m going out. Not that it’s any of your business.”