Maid for the Mafia

**ALEX**

They had been fucking in there. I know it. My cousin has himself looking like some modern day knight in shining armor and me looking like the demon of every sin. And sure, maybe I am a demon, maybe I have done more than a few things that I regret. But who hasn't?

In this world I live in there is no other way to be, but cruel.noveldrama

I almost can't believe Mickey sent Damien and Tiny to Santos' place, which is five hours south if you drive directly there. *My bodyguard for God's sake! What gives him the right?*

Well then again, Mickey never asks for the right to do anything and Damien definitely possesses his own mind, so who is to blame, really?

*Romany, that's who.*

*My fucking beautiful little maid.*

MY MAID.

*Did anyone else miss the possessive in that sentence?*

*I sure as fuck didn't.*

Mine.

But no. She can't seem to decide what or WHO she wants.

*"I love you Alex..."*

*Ha! What complete bullshit.*

If she loved me, would she have exploded out of my bedroom doors to race after my goddamned cousin the way she had? And then leap into his car like some kind of runaway bride, just to charm him back into the house with her siren's voice so that she could fuck him as apologetically as she was able?

No. No she would not have.

If she loved me, she would have stayed right there in my arms, waited for the useless bastard to leave, and then flipped me over to fuck me into the heavens above.

Fuck her for lying to me.

And fuck him for being so goddamned weak for her. He should have been mad enough to leave her swallowing the dirt clouds of his memory. But no, what does he do? Come racing back to hear her out.

*Fucking pussy.*

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Of course... I'd be lying if I said that fact didn't sting a little bit more than it should. It did, it ripped a hole right through my chest. So much that I literally remained there and paced my sitting room, waiting for her to return. It didn't take long before I was checking the tapes to find out where she'd gone.

Knowing that she chased him, I can't get the way she looked at me right before she left out of my head to save my life.

Shit.

It was like she was finally making a choice and *I wasn't it.*

Then again, she might simply be pissed. Either way, I probably shouldn't have used her

to torture my cousin. That tactic seems to have backfired. Now, I am the one who is suffering. She's got me all wound up and I suddenly want to destroy something.

I NEED to destroy something.

I almost took my anger out on her phone. When the damn thing started blaring like a cage full of finches, I picked it up and nearly crushed it in the palm of my hand. Especially when notifications from Damien and Tiny and Tom and Dick and Harry started pounding through it. I'll admit, the moment I saw how active the device had become, I was curious enough to want to unlock it. However, I realized at that precise moment, that I had no idea when Romany's birthday was. She could be turning seventy-five tomorrow and I would be none the wiser.

But I'll bet Mickey knows what it is, the fucking prick.

I tried a few guesses at her passcode, effectively causing the damn thing to verbally apologize - saying that I was being locked out, but that's as far as I let it go.

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I'm no hacker. I'm a killer, for sure. Manipulative, also check. But I am not a tech genius, nor do I own a smartphone. Why? Because any device possessing the ability to scan your fingerprints, record your facial features, and paint your motherfucking aura cannot be trusted. At least, not by me. I don't even like to touch them.

Mine is an extremely high-end flip phone that can obtain a signal even when I am fifty feet underground and it does every little thing I need it to do without drawing pictures of my soulmate or telling me what manner of witch I am based on just my birth year. So, once I got the call from my new club's bouncer that the dancers were on strike against new management, I forgot the phone and dressed myself in my most deadly looking suit. A dark plum affair that always seemed to get me exactly what I wanted in the end.

Too bad the thing I want most is currently lying under my goddamned cousin. Meanwhile, I wait out in my Bentley for him like some second wife to the Emperor. Or in this case, second *husband* to the Empress.

"Fuck," I hiss, tapping my feet like a coked out leprechaun as I glare from the backseat to the front doors of my mansion. I still have that marriage contract to honor, a fact that might upset Romany when she finds out. Which she may have already done. Mickey more than definitely will tell her about it the first chance he gets, the bastard. But, once I explain, then maybe I can get her to understand. It won't* be forever. The alliance between Antony's sister and myself will serve a singular, mindful purpose. One that has nothing to do with love and everything to do with power. And... once I have all of mine, once I have enough... I will be making the rules and the Dons will be the ones coming to *me* for permission.

Those old bastards will never see me coming. By the time I'm through with my final play, and everything falls into place, they'll be lucky to command their own bowels, let alone any of *us.*

There are a few things about Antony's sister Emilia that no one ever took the time to notice. How fortunate for myself that *I have.* The girl has been keeping secrets from each and every one of her family members for a very long time. And...

Proof of those secrets have been burning a hole inside my vault for a very, very, long time.

The sound of Mickey's SUV racing up the drive drags me from my thoughts and my eyes narrow as the vehicle pulls in just ahead of my Bentley. Miickey and I are riding to my club together, so I don't know why in the fuck Mario didn't simply deposit the vehicle in my garage.

But then Mario gets out and opens the back door.

My gut twists when a slightly flustered and definitely flushed Ana Romano steps out of

the vehicle becoming a sudden spike of irritation in my gut.

*What the fuck is she doing here?*

*What the hell is Mickey up to now?*