The Maid: Mafia Romance (Series)

Giovanni caught Jenny in time before she toppled over backward in her sleep.

Am I demanding too much from her on her first day of work? He questioned himself as he carried the delicate girl in his arms to her bedroom. He pushed open the door with his foot and walked slowly to the little cot on the far side of the small room. He laid her gently, folding the blankets back to cover her up. Then he straightened himself and asked what the fuck he’d just done.

He’d just carried a servant girl and deposited her into her bedroom like a bride on her wedding night. This girl did something to him he didn’t like. It must be that constant yapping of hers.

Giovanni took a deep breath and let out a sigh. He couldn’t help but move his face closer, examining her features, like he had moments before, touching her chin before she jerked from his fingers. She definitely looked like someone he knew, this distant memory of his, which had been compartmentalized at the back of his skull somewhere.

Giovanni growled at himself and ran his fingers through his hair, a habit that tended to show up when he was frustrated with himself. He admitted she was beautiful in a way he couldn’t explain. It was like her beauty was too natural, yet, like a plant that continued to grow, she glowed with each passing second he stood in her presence.

She didn’t need powder or makeup to make her beautiful. She was different, unlike his other women. And what he was itching to do at that moment really pissed him off. His fingers were already reaching out and touching her scattered freckles and those soft, smooth cheeks that always seemed to glow peachy whenever he looked at her; especially when he came to see her with the skimpy towel wrapped around her thin body.

He admitted he had a hard-on right in that instant, a fact he tried so hard to conceal and tone down with a long, cold shower. He was even denying that feeling right now, as he stared at that skinny girl lying in bed like a half-dead goldfish.

Giovanni jerked his hand back and cursed himself again. Have I gone out of my fucking mind?

But there was no denying that something inside him moved when he touched her. He wasn’t sure what. And he wasn’t looking forward to finding it out either. But he knew he’d have to, and soon, too, since he’d be stuck living with this particular maid of his for a long, long time.

Curse of the Coffee Machine

“Jenny, a short black.”

“Jenny, long black please.”

“Jenny, I want hot chocolate.”

“Jenny, hot water.”

Another day, same old routine. I should’ve been used to it by now, since it’d almost been a week since I came to live in this mansion, occupied by the Adonis mafia boss and his underlings, but there were still some days I was surprised out of my wits. Luckily, today wasn’t one of them.

Before going to class, I had to make sure all their drinks were made; otherwise there would be boo-hoo-hoo for the rest of the day, mainly from Bobby and Giovanni, complaining they couldn’t work until they had my magic potion, aka, my coffee.

But anyway, I felt so refreshed today. I’d finished all my chores and now was sitting contentedly in the lecture hall, writing down notes on Professor Henry’s lesson.

His voice boomed and boomed; I was sure half the student population must have gone deaf already. But I didn’t care about this. I was in my own world. I hardly had days when I could relax easily. So, I was taking it all in, enjoying the time I had left before that devil mafia boss interrupted me again.

Last week, when he called me at three in the morning just to make him one small cup of flat white, I’d ended up with panda eyes the size of golf balls. I had to wear sunglasses the whole day. Thankfully, my friend Crispin didn’t see me in that attire.

Speaking of Crispin, he was pleasantly sitting beside me, jotting down notes, too. I wasn’t even sure when he’d arrived. He seemed to just appear in my peripheral, sometimes.

“Jenny,” he called.

I swirled around to face him, giving him my lazy smile.

Crispin had brown hair, hazel eyes, and wore glasses. His face was full of freckles, unlike mine, with only small amounts on my nose and cheeks. Crispin was tall, though. Standing at my full height, I only reached his shoulders. He was handsome in a cool, conservative way. I always teased him about not having a girlfriend hanging around his neck. He always teased me about not having a boyfriend, too.

“Mmm, what is it?” I asked, seeing that frown again. These last few weeks, Crispin seemed to always appear before me with a frown. “You’re frowning again. Stop. It makes you look old. And you know girls in college don’t like guys who’re wrinkled.” I pressed my thumb on this forehead to smooth it.

“Why are you so happy today, Jenny?” he asked instead, ignoring my advice and removing my thumb from his forehead, only to grasp it between his fingers. “And where were you Friday? I called over at your house, but it was locked up. I tried calling your phone, but you didn’t pick up, either.”

I cringed and thought back on my sad, sorry life. I didn’t have the heart to tell him my house had been put into foreclosure. Giovanni had taken possession of it and wouldn’t let me live there. I had to stay at his mansion in my closet room until the three million had been paid off.

“I moved,” I told him cheerfully, extracting my thumb from his grasp. “Somewhere closer to the university. Sorry for not telling you. It was hectic with the move.”

“You should have called me. I could have come over to help.” Crispin held an expression that clearly showed he was hurt.

“Ah, so sorry. Don’t be upset.” I hurriedly pacified him. “It was a very quick decision. I didn’t mean to let it slide. I just forgot, that’s all. I was going to, seriously.”

“You don’t have to look all flustered.” He chuckled. “I was only teasing. Haven’t we been friends since high school? You should know how I feel about you.”

“Yeah, of course I do,” I said, somehow agreeing anyway when I hadn’t a clue what he was on about. Was there a double meaning to his statement? I didn’t get him at all sometimes.

“So, give me your new address.” Crispin touched my arm, smiling now, sliding his iPhone across the bench to me. “I’ll visit you sometime.”

What? No. No. I couldn’t give him that mafia boss’ address. He’d kill me. Also, I couldn’t let Crispin know I was up and over my eyeballs in Pa’s debt. So, I lied.

“What? No. No, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Is it your dad? I know he doesn’t like you hanging out with me.”

“No, of course not.”

“Then your sister, Amelia.”

I shook my head. “No. Not Pa. Not Amelia. They don’t live with me.”

“Where are they now? You mean to tell me you live alone?” A startled look crossed his face.

“Oh, no. I don’t live alone.” I tried to pacify him. “You see, I’m boarding. Pa and Amelia…” I’m so sorry, Crispin, but I have to lie to you. “They moved, too. But since they live so far from the university, I thought I’d board somewhere closer, since I have longer to study compared to Amelia.”

“So, give me your address, then. I’ll keep you company.”

“No. It’s my landlord, you see. I live with him. He won’t be too happy if I give his address to some stranger,” I whispered, turning back just in time to see Professor Henry pointing to the balance sheet again.

“I’m your friend, Jenny, not some stranger.” He turned me around to face him again. “I’m sure the old geezer won’t mind.”

I almost laughed when Crispin called Giovanni an old geezer. Even I’d thought he was an old man in the beginning. If only Crispin could see Giovanni now, I was sure he would choke on his words.

“Not to me, Crispin, but to him you are.” I pointed out, trying to keep a straight face.

“Look. I just want to know if you’re living in a safe neighborhood. You don’t know, Jenny. There are thugs around everywhere. You have to be careful where you live. And who you live with.” Crispin laid his big palm on top of mine, grasping mine gently.

“I know, Crispin.” I smiled at him, patting his hand gently like a good friend would. “But don’t worry. I’m safe. How about if you want to see me, just text me? I’ll meet you in town.”

“Yeah. That’ll be cool.” He smiled stiffly.

“Yeah. Cool.” I smiled, moving my hand away.

I turned back to Prof. Henry’s lecture, but I noticed Crispin was still staring at my face. “What is it? Something on my face. Coffee?”

“Yeah. Coffee again. Just a bit here.” He removed the grounds off my cheek. His fingers seemed to linger a bit too long on my temple.

“Are there heaps?” I asked, wondering what was taking him so long.

“Yeah. You like to make coffee, don’t you?” He gave me his dazzling smile, his thumb and fingers busy brushing my cheek.

“Don’t you find Professor Henry boring.” I leaned into him, whispering into his ear, while he was busy with his task.

Crispin chuckled and moved his face closer, until we were literally staring into each other’s eyes and I could count the number of freckles on his face. “No. I like it. I get to sit next to you. We hardly get to sit next to each other these days.”

I blinked. “Done?”

“Yeah.” He pulled back reluctantly.

I repositioned myself as well. Resting my elbow on the bench and head in my palm, I gazed up at him and explained my reasoning. “Well, I find him boring. But I need the credit.”

“If you want to, I could tutor you.” Crispin’s eyes popped with enthusiasm.

I giggled and shook my head. “No need. I’m sure with a bit of time to study, I’ll breeze through the exams. Say…” I turned our conversation to more interesting matter. “Want to have lunch at this new Korean restaurant that just opened up across the street? I have another class to attend, but we could meet-”

Buzz. Buzz.

Crap! My phone vibrated in my jeans pocket. I gestured for Crispin to give me a second and flipped my phone on. My eyeballs almost popped out.

Boss: Jay, I want my coffee. Get here in 10 minutes or else…

Giovanni, you ass! How dare you interrupt my tranquil time when I’m busy studying? Oh, I was so tempted to tell him off. So I did.

Jenny: Get here in 10 min or else what?

“Jenny, who texted you?”

“Ah?” I looked up to see Crispin’s face in my personal space again. And just when I was about to respond, I accidentally brushed my nose across his cheek. His face blushed raspberry.

“Oh, gosh. I’m so sorry. Didn’t mean to bash my nose into you like that.”

“It’s all right,” he managed with a croaky voice. “But who texted you?”

“Oh!” I turned back to check the text again, just in case that devil mafia boss was only playing a joke on me. But this was no joke. “Sorry, it’s my landlord.”

“What does he want?”

My attention flipped to Crispin again, and already I saw the wrinkles on his forehead. Crispin must be going through some stressful episode in his life, I thought. “Said he needs to talk to me about my boarding at his-”Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

Just then, another text message came through.

Boss: Or else you’ll live to regret the day you didn’t serve me coffee. Get here now. 10 minutes!

Sheesh! How did he find the time to even type in the exclamation mark? I was already struggling to write proper sentences in text form.

“Can’t he wait?” Crispin interrupted my train of thought. “You’re in class. Tell him to wait until you finish for the day.”

I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. “I can’t. I have to go now. I’ll see you tomorrow. ‘Kay?”

With that said, I slipped out the back door of the lecture hall and raced to my bike, parked a good five-minute walk from the building.

That sprint to my bike cost me two minutes. Eight minutes to go. Through some calculations, I deduced the quickest route to get to Cory Mansion was through Central Park. And my God, I cycled like I was a competitor in the Tour de France.

This is my curse. Pure and simple. I’m cursed to be the maid and coffee machine for that mafia boss.

By the time I got to Cory Mansion, I was already huffing, puffing, and, dare I say, on the verge of collapsing. But I raced to Giovanni’s office and slammed the door open, only to find him lying on his couch.

I staggered toward him. “Boss…” I puffed, my tongue wagging out like a dog after a good sprint. “I’m here. I made it.”

He didn’t reply. I walked closer to see why he was so damned rude. When I got near him, I almost beat his head with my fist.

He called me to rush over within ten minutes, and when I arrived, he was sleeping! I couldn’t believe this. I marched forward and was about to take my revenge on him when I was struck by his beauty.

Wow. He’s really handsome up close. So, I ended up squatting and observing his face instead.

Long black lashes, beautiful bow-shaped lips, strong jawbones, and well-defined eyebrows-this man was just too perfect. Seriously, such perfection should only exist in paintings.

I couldn’t help trying to push his buttons. What happened if I aggravated him like that time during dinner?

Oh, once I got an idea in my head, I couldn’t get it out until I put it to action.

So, I did. My finger inched forward until it was almost at his forehead, and then I applied pressure, poking him. And suddenly… he opened his eyes.