Maid for the Mafia

**ROMANY**

After a long shower in Damien's suite, I realized I was late for dinner and threw on a luxuriously soft black sweatsuit that Alex had gifted me and my only pair of running shoes. Mickey had texted me saying they wouldn't be back until after midnight and while my heart lurched at that information, it was probably for the best.

Apparently Midtown is a three hour drive from here and while they raced at speeds I couldn't even fathom to arrive there at six instead of seven, they had some things to settle and wouldn't be leaving until well after ten o'clock. Mickey claimed that he and Alex were planning to surprise me with something along the lines of a *new* contract. What that could be, I had no idea, but it wasn't as if it would matter anyway. At least, not until I returned here. *If* I returned here.

Oddly enough, there hadn't been any messages from Santos. Only from Tiny and Damien apologizing for leaving while I was still sleeping and promising me everything from orgasms to pedicures to make up for it.

*Fuck.*

I was really *in it* for these men. I loved each of them in different ways. The longer I thought about it, the harder it was for me to foresee a future where I gave my heart to only one of them. At the same time... I didn't see myself giving it to anyone else *but* them. All of them...

I mean, is that even a thing? Does that happen *anywhere* in the world? I know people explore all types of sexual relationships, I'm not a *complete* fool, but does anyone ever share themself long term?

Just the thought of giving up the right to ride Tiny's dragon makes my pussy ache with remorse. His easygoing nature and odd shyness leaves me feeling empty at the thought of breaking his heart. I adore him and he doesn't have a jealous bone in his body so I'm sure he's right there with me in everything I do.

Then there is Damien. My Dreamboat. My jealous, ravenous, bodyguard. With a body too beautiful to ever forget the feel of, and a heart entirely devoted to owning my soul. Nope. Don't want to lose him either.

And Mickey... shit. No way. I've never met anyone so desperate to make any dream I might have come true. He's proven time and again that he prioritizes me over everything and anything. Even placing himself in *danger* just to vindicate the shadows of my past. How many people can say they have a warrior willing to destroy the demons that have been and will be? A man willing to accept you in any capacity you wish to give yourself? I doubt very many...

There really aren't any words for Alex. He's toxic and possessive. Manipulative and cold. But sexy as fuck and the kind of unrepentant asshole that drives a woman to her knees. Shit. Maybe I *am* greedy. Because I want it all and I want it the way I want it. Nothing more nothing less.

*Father forgive me, but I promise to go to church every time we sin?*

*No? Not having it? Grrr. I'll light a candle? Five candles!*

Rolling my eyes at myself, I take a final look in the mirror, smiling at the dark purple love bites that Mickey left on my neck, and then promptly exiting Damien's suite. Heading down to the dining room, I take the stairs. I need to text Simone and find out where she hid that spare key and I'd rather not risk the elevator camera catching me when I do.

Her reply is immediate and after reading her text, we share a heartfelt **see you later** with a side of *'don't forget'* and then delete the thread on both ends.

With a hefty sigh I flounce toward the open archway of the dining room with my nose in the air like a goddamned bloodhound as the scent of freshly buttered lobster wafts my way.

"Ohhhhhhhhh yeahhhhhhhhhh," I croon stepping into the dining room and then freezing in my steps the moment I see that I'm not alone.

*Who the fuck is this?*

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A girl with a heart shaped face and little rosette mouth sits at the far end of the table. Her eyes are dark black like a crow's, and slightly familiar, but the thick lashes that shade them mean the difference between sweet and sinister when it comes to her gaze. Coiffed hair, thick as chicken wire and the deep, dark shade of mahogany brown sits above her rounded shoulders. Her face is pale, her make-up sparse. She's a tad on the heavy side but not at all unattractively so. But *she is* looking around as if she's waiting for a SWAT team to burst through the doors at any given minute and *that* is when I realize *exactly* who she must be.

This is Ana.

Ana Romano.

Thoughts of her dead father swirl through my head and for the first time I wish I'd called down to have the kitchens bring my food upstairs. I don't imagine I'll have very much in common with this girl at all, despite the fact that she's my age.

*Hello Ana, nice to meet you. Were you aware that your father was a pig? No? Well, we were equally surprised to find that out, but when we did, we put that porker in his place. You won't ever have to see him again. Nope. You're welcome. Bacon?*

The moment she notices me standing there, her face turns so red I think she might actually be choking and I nearly race forward to pour her some water.

"Are you okay?" I ask, stalking toward her side of the table warily.

She clears her throat, her cheeks darkening if that's at all possible and then she says in the softest voice that I've ever heard, "Y-yes. Th-thank you. I just-I... I *think* I'm waiting for someone and you're not him." *No I'm not, bitch.*

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*Come on now, Ro, be nice. She seems like a gem! Bleh!*

*Oh Mickey... I am going to murder you for leaving me here with this.*

My lip quirks upward and I take a seat at the opposite end of the table, in Alex's chair. Granting her a stiff smile, I introduce myself, "I'm Romany. You must be Ana."

Her eyebrows shoot for the ceiling. "Oh yes! That's me." She nibbles her lips, still searching around for *Mickey* I'm sure."I've been sitting here for twenty minutes waiting and I wonder if-"

"We'll be the only one's dining in here tonight," I inform her, filling my plate with enormous amounts of food as usual.

"Are you sure? Because the driver said that Mickey asked for him to deliver me here. This is his house, right?"

She looks so out of sorts that I *almost* tell her the truth, but I have no idea what she's supposed to believe so I simply smile and say, "This is *my* house. And Mickey-" I take a bite of my lobster, chew then swallow "-is not here. Nor will he be back until after midnight."

*Have you lost you fucking mind?*

*Yes Brain, I believe I may have.*