Maid for the Mafia

**ROMANY**

By the time I was showered and dressed in an old pair of jeans and a ratty sweatshirt, it was time for breakfast. Since Alex had yet to call for me to join the meeting, I assumed I might as well go downstairs and sate my hunger. Besides, I was eager to see Stella.

This time when I hit the first floor hallway, all I was met with were smiles and nods. It definitely put a bit of a spring in my step as I bounced toward the dining room. The only people who looked a bit wary were the guards. They watched me almost suspiciously, almost as if they blamed me for what happened to Gerald, one of their own.

I lifted my chin against the uncomfortable feeling I was getting from them and decided that the first chance I got, I would mention it to Damien. He was the head of Security after all, right? Right.

The moment I stepped into the dining room, a new sort of apprehensiveness found me. Stella wasn't in her usual seat.

Nope.

It was Enzo Conti.

*Fuck, fuck, fuck.* I didn't know by what design Alex would leave him to roam the halls of his house, *knowing* that I would undoubtedly expect to have breakfast and that *he* might be there... But whatever his thinking, he must not have been that concerned about it, because there he was.

I was just about to spin on my heels in search of Simone when he spoke to me, "Ah... Good morning little one. I had hoped to see you again."

His dark eyes were steady on my face, never once transgressing any lower than that. He stood up and pulled out a chair for me, gesturing for me to have a seat across from him.

"Good morning," I said politely, careful to avoid his hands as I accepted the seat.

I watched him as he returned to his chair, the slow confidence in his steps, the bulk of muscles behind his expensive suit that looked as if they were fighting for space. He was big. Not *tall*. but thick with heavy muscles. Like a bodybuilder, or a professional wrestler. It was... intimidating to say the least.

I knew he was older than the others, but I wasn't certain how much older. He wore his black hair neatly clipped, and his short beard neatly manicured in a style that literally made him look like the fucken devil. He smiled at me from across the table as I began to load my plate. I decided to eat a bit lighter this time. If Damien was serious about me having to witness Gerald's last breath, I might not want to have a full stomach when they called for me. After all, I've never seen anyone killed before and honestly, I *really* didn't want to be there when it happened.

"I'm glad to see that you're still in one piece," Enzo commented, taking it upon himself to fill my glass with fresh juice. "Alexander can be"-he paused-"difficult to please."

"Thank you," I replied without meeting his eyes.

He chuckled, "I must apologize for the way I treated you on the night we met. I had been drinking quite heavily that entire day. I was out of line and acted like an idiot. I should never have placed my hands on you." He shook his head at himself, almost as if ashamed. "In my defense, I had just received the news that my fiance had been found with another man and I was..." he trailed off, frowning, "not quite myself."

He seemed lost in thought for a moment as he stared at his plate and I actually found myself feeling a little sorry for him. He appeared so melancholy. Who knew that such a big brute like him could look so out of place? I said, "I'm sorry. How horrible that must have been for you. Were you together long?"

He shrugged, clearing his throat before answering, "Two years. I really thought she loved me." He smiled sadly down at his plate. "It turns out, she only loved the lifestyle I allowed her to live." He coughed as if to change the subject and said, "But still, there is no excuse for my behavior toward you that night. I only hope you weren't punished too harshly for my actions."

*Not too harshly... just a couple of zombie bites and an orgasm. I'll live.*

I nodded at him, thinking of Matthew and the way he manipulated me. "I understand. No hard feelings then."

Lifting his sad eyes toward mine, he smiled gratefully. "Thank you."

I smiled back and we continued to eat. The conversation turned toward simple things like what my favorite hobbies were and what sort of plans I had for the future. I began to feel almost as if I were conversing with an uncle or an old family friend. By the time we were finished eating, the pair of us were still sitting there, laughing about how when I first saw him upstairs, I was scared to death because I remembered seeing him on the news when I was young.

He chortled, "You poor thing. Ah yes. I remember that year. That was about ten years ago. I was twenty-two and barely making a name for myself back then." He shook his head and grimaced, as if chasing away old memories. "I hate to admit it, but at that time I was more of a monster than a man." His eyes sparkled over the table at me, dancing over my face. "How old are you, Miss Romany?"

"Twenty-two," I informed him with a chuckle.

"So you're graduated then," he assumed with a harmless smile.

My mood dipped immediately, and I frowned. I shook my head and sad softly, "No. I-er-um, well, I *should* have been graduating this year, but um"-I met his gaze-"like you, I allowed someone to fool me and well... lets just say, he did an exceptional job of it. I ended up being expelled."

Leaning back in his chair, his gaze seemed to heat with compassion. "I'm so sorry."

"I prefer not to talk about it," I replied, drinking the last of my juice.

It was right then that I felt the familiar heat of an angry glare on me and I knew without looking who was there.

"Yet, you have been talking," said a cold, angry voice from the doorway. "Despite *everything* that you've been taught."