Maid for the Mafia

**ROMANY**

Waking up in a circular bed surrounded by four of the most devastatingly handsome men in all creation should have been weird. It should have made me feel like a slut, or a bimbo. Like a tramp that has *zero* respect for herself. Or a naive little girl that falls for grown men and their lies. Opening my eyes to the sight of a sex swing in the corner, and a selection of vibrators on the shelf should have made me feel dirty... or cheap... or *busted...* But, it doesn't.

Why?

Because for one, I've changed so remarkably in the past month and a half that I am starting to question if I ever really was* that girl that Ruby thought me to be at all.

And two... because as I stretch out and smile, I take a gander around and realize... I'm completely alone.

*What the fuck?*

*Where the hell are my men?*

"Alex?" I call out, sitting up with a start and dragging the white fur coverlet up with me. "Alex??"

My heart starts pumping erratically, a sense of foreboding taking me hostage as I realize today will be the day.

Tonight at midnight, I'm leaving.

*And just where in the fuck is my phone?*

*Oh my God!* *No!*

As I leap from the bed, I wince with pain, but ignore my immediate soreness in the interest of saving my sorry little ass. Holy crap, if they find my phone and look through it... they might try to keep me here. Or worse... they might see it as betrayal.

*Shit!*

Grabbing my robe off the floor, I shoulder it on and race out of the playroom to head straight for Alex's bedroom. All is quiet in the halls and the sun is streaming in from the skylights above me. Skylights that I never noticed until now. *Huh. How odd.*

Then again, I've never crept down Alex's hallway like this in the middle of what seems to be the afternoon.

*Jesus, how long did I sleep?*

Once I reach Alex's bedroom, I find it locked and I nearly scream.

*Should I knock?*

*I mean... is he even in there?*

*I've never known him to lock me out.*

*Not ever.*

*Why would it be locked?*

*Unless...*

Spinning around I race down the hall toward the living room, crying out as I go, "Alex? Where are you?"

My answer comes the moment I step into the living room to find him there alone, shirtless, and drowning in a bottle of his favorite vice. *Whiskey.*

He is sitting on the sofa with his back to me, twirling the half empty bottle along the top of his wool clad kneecap, though I doubt that he is drunk, the tense set of his shoulders tells me he might just be angry. The moment I step into the room, he stills, glaring at me through the reflection of the powered-down flat screen along the far wall.

"Alex," I whisper, freezing directly behind his head and watching his shoulders flex with tension. "Why didn't you answer me? Where is everyone?"

He snickers, uncapping his drink to pour a healthy amount into his mouth. "Which question would you like answered first... *angel*?"

The way he says the word '*angel'* trickles up my spine and my back straightens, my cheeks heating with apprehension and my head filling with disquiet.

*He found my phone.*

*He read my messages.*

*He looks pissed.*

My eyes go for the door, my feet following when I see that it's ajar.

*Fuck it. I'm not letting him spoil everything with his games.*

*I'll just go find out where they are myself.*

"Where the fuck do you think you are going?" Alex snaps, but I don't look back, stepping out into the hall and ignoring him completely. "They're gone," he calls after me, and my steps stutter.

Clenching my teeth, I spin around on my heels and head back into his suite. Stepping inside, I slam the door behind me with enough force to set his teeth and then I scowl at him, ignoring the fact that I can see his wonderfully bare chest and ever thickening bulge behind the open zipper of his pants.

*Don't look, don't look.*

*But God he is mouthwatering.*

Keeping my gaze *above* the kill zone, I inquire softly, "Where did they go?"

Alex arches an eyebrow, taking a swig of his whiskey as his eyes caress my bare thighs and his tongue stroke the inside of his mouth. "Elsewhere."

*Elsewhere?*

*What? What the fuck?*

*What kind of answer is that?*

Rolling my eyes I stomp toward him, ignoring the way he tastes his lower lip as I get close. Reaching forward, I snatch the bottle out of his hands and spit, "Why the *fuck* are you drinking this early, Alex? What's wrong with you *now*?" "First of all," he whispers, his heavy lidded gaze fixing on my lower half. "It's not early. It's three o'clock in the afternoon." Then his mouth sets in a grim line and he attempts to snatch his bottle back, his biceps flexing with fluid grace. I toss it behind me onto his rug intent on twirling away, but he snatches me around the waist before I can take a step, then locks me between his legs so that ridge of his hardening length lines up with my spine. Chaining me in place with one arm around my middle, the hot taint of his breath steams over the back of my ear. "I wonder... how much do you remember from last night? Or did we truly fuck your brains out?"

Malice and resentment lace each of his words with notes that rise and fall on the edge of destruction. I can sense how upset he is in just the way he is holding me, and despite that, I can feel his arousal as well, the bite of his words warn of an impending storm.

"I remember," I whisper, turning my head sharply and tilting back so that I can see his face. His skin is so smooth and so perfect, if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't think he'd seen a day of violence in his entire life. "I remember all of

it."

"You remember..." he chuckles. The bright green of his irises go black as he loses his smile. "You... you said things. Things that..." His jaw clenches and he turns away, facing straight ahead instead of toward me. "Things that you could not have possibly meant."

Squirming against his hold, I attempt to turn my body around enough to face him, but he's too goddamned strong and he won't let me. "Alex-"

"No!" he hisses, shaking his head as if warning me off. "You didn't mean it. I *know you didn't. And I can prove it."*