Page 57 of Mafia And Maid
“Back so soon?”
My hand trembles around the doorknob. I can’t look at him, and I don’t trust my voice.
“Rosa?”
“Yes, Mr. Camillo?” I mumble, looking down at my sneakers. I don’t want him to see my puffy eyes or the lingering redness from crying on the way home. He’ll ask unwanted questions.
He steps closer to me, filling the hall with his masculine scent. It lulls some part of my brain and causes my tight shoulders to drop. I swallow thickly, praying he’ll just walk away.
He doesn’t. “Did something happen?”
I shake my head.
“Are you sure? You didn’t rush back just to make dinner, did you?”
“No,” I lie, my voice thick with tears. I clear my throat as quietly as possible. “Everything is fine, Mr. Camillo.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
His hand twitches at his side, and I hold my breath, waiting to be grabbed or worse. This is exactly the kind of questioning I can’t handle.
“Did you go anywhere fun?”
I flinch as if I’ve been struck and stare up at him. Why does he want to know that? The alarm bells in my head sound.
I try to school my features, to keep the frantic worry off my face. He’s just being friendly. He doesn’t know anything.
“I’m sorry?”
“Did you do anything fun? While you were out.”
“No.”
His dark brow arches as he tilts his head. For once, his hair isn’t tied back at the crown. Instead, the thick, glossy strands tumble around his face, framing the sharp angles. He’s as menacing as he is beautiful.
But it’s the flicker behind his dark eyes that makes my insides flutter in a way I can’t quite pinpoint. He’s watching me, observing me, and my skin prickles on high alert.
Each slow passing of his eyes feels like an embrace heating my skin.
My palms are sweaty, and my tongue feels swollen in my mouth as I stand there dumbly, watching him. I shouldn’t enjoy the way having his eyes on me makes me feel.
“So, you just walked around the city all day?”
I suck my lip between my teeth. I don’t want to deliberately lie to him. There’s no telling what will happen to me and this job if he finds out everything. But I need to protect Ethan. I need to protect myself. “Yes. That’s what I did.”
The half-truth sits heavy in my chest, but I know what these men are capable of. They’re monsters wrapped in attractive packaging. Beautiful, yet deadly. And I’ve learned my lesson so that I trust no one but myself.
Camillo and his brothers may have warmed up slightly to me being here, and they may have not raised their hands to me, but there are worse ways to destroy a person.
“Oh,” he responds.
His hand moves, and I step back on instinct, flinching. I watch as his hand flexes, and his gaze hardens for a brief second before he drags it through his hair, pushing it back.
“Are you sure nothing happened?”
“I’m sure.” I hear the waver in my voice. “I just need a few minutes before I start dinner.”