Maid for the Mafia

**ALEX**

After we taken care of the men at the front gate, leaving just Luca alive, my ears ring yet I steel myself, listening for any that might have *heard* the commotion, or else, seen it on my cameras. Cameras that are, no doubt, back online.

My eyes meet Luca's as he raises himself off the ground and shakes himself of his initial shock, then snatches one of the dead guard's rifles, handing it over to me.

I tell him, "I need the man who put you out front. Everyone else dies."

Luca's black eyes flare for a moment, then he nods toward my cousin who is coming up on my right.

"Everyone *else.,"* I stipulate. "Save for the house staff in their rooms." Then I hand my cousin the rifle, shove him toward the west of the property and I get back in the car.

That is it, my last words before I creep toward my house with my quiet arms at the ready. A machine gun severing my furniture simply will not do, but outside, they will need them. Rolling to a stop some hundred feet before I crest the circular drive, I shut off the engine, take the key fob from the console, and exit the vehicle like a wraith in the wind. Complete silence greets me as I step along the shadows until I am crouched behind one truly magnificent oak. This tree falls under the camera's blind spot. Damien left it that way on purpose when he arranged the system just for me and I've never been so grateful to my friend as I am now. Perched there on my knees, I wait.

The sound of rapid gunfire to the west and east of the property puts a smile on my lips and I position myself to the right of the oak just as men begin to trickle out of the house. They scramble for less than a second before I take four of them out, each of my bullets hitting them square in the eyes. The porch becomes still, but there is still one man unaccounted for, so I wait.noveldrama

The sound of more fire is what finally brings him out and it's almost too easy when I take him down.

*Jesus Christ. The protection that I hired is laughable.*

*It's a wonder any of us are still alive.*

Pushing up from my knees I saunter in the front doors then head straight for my bar. Uncapping an entire bottle of whiskey, I move to the dining room and sit in the quiet dark, watching the fireworks play out in the yard while I drink. If there are any more men remaining in the house, they are already dead. Killed by the traitors I'm sure.

I will wait for Luca and Mickey to return with our mole, then after a nice long talk... I will go and fetch Ruby.

**ROMANY**

It feels like being shrouded in fog when I awaken. When I do, I know it hasn't been very long, because I can remember everything I just went through, my mind feeling as if I simply dozed off for a minute or too in the car. Keeping my eyes closed, I listen to the sounds around me, noting the cool air on my skin and the supple leather beneath my hands, the sensations almost like an afterthought.

There is light behind my eyelids. So much of it that I'm instantly aware of the fact that I'm no longer in the back of that vehicle. Yet the sound of a vibrating engine remains. However, this one is so far away, and at the same time, so much more powerful that I struggle for a minute, wondering why it feels so familiar. Wondering at the atmosphere that I know I've felt before.

Then we're moving and I realize *exactly* what this is.

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I'm on a plane.

A jet.

*Oh my God.*

A deep, dark voice finds its way to my ears and I flinch, "I know you're awake, after all, I am the one who dosed you. I promised we would meet Miss Romany. Now that we are safely on our way, you should open your eyes."

*Well damn.*

Blinking rapidly to adjust to the sudden brightness, I do as he says. With a gasp, I straighten in my seat. I don't know what I was picturing he would look like - I mean I saw a little of him that day he video called me - but even so, nothing could have prepared me for the sight of the behemoth sitting across the aisle from me now. "Santos," I saw warily, truly shocked at how handsome he is. "You are huge."

He chuckles, the thick cords of his neck shifting and drawing my eyes toward the wind of tattoos that climb the back of his neck. "And you are not. But you *are* beautiful, however, the camera didn't do you justice. You and your cousin are alike in that, I suppose."

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His smile turns wistful and I cock my head, studying the carefully sculpted mohawk he's sporting with an untrained eye. "Love the hair."

He nods toward my silver streak. "Likewise."

The man seated next to me, Santos, is the only other person in the cabin and as I look around, it becomes quite clear to me that he owns this little craft and must use it *very* frequently, as it includes all the touches of home. There are six large seats, each with an accompanying table that slides off to the side, some of which appear to have handmade blankets laid across them. A minifridge is bolted to the floor at the front of the aisle with fucking magnets all over it. Magnets that appear to be picturesque renditions of different locations. Probably all the places that he's been. There's even a damned bookshelf propped up next to it, also bolted, but behind a locked case. I assume to keep the volumes inside from flying about in the event the plane should meet with any turbulence. The seats are all black leather, with what appears to be cushy little footrests beneath them, and there's a giant flatscreen television built into the wall directly in front of me.

"Wow Santos. Not what I was expecting to wake up to," I say softly, taking it all in.

*Where are all of his men?*

"Please call me Antonio," he says, the deep tenor of his voice at odds with the mesmerizing sparkle of his pale blue gaze. "Romany."

Turning toward the window on my right, I see that it is pitch black with nothing but a few wisps of clouds floating past for scenery. Gazing down at myself, I realize I am still wearing the watch and everything else I had on when I left Alex's. I don't know what I thought he was going to do to me, but I suppose I had my worries. As it is, I'm not even tied up. Unless you count the fact that I'm wearing a seatbelt.

"So Antonio, you promised to provide me with proof of my cousin's freedom," I remind him, getting right to the gist of why I am here. "May I have it please?"

He smirks, reaching into his pocket and causing the thick boulderlike muscles of his arms to strain against the cotton of his white collared shirt. Handing me his phone, he doesn't bother to unlock it, and the moment I gaze down on the screen I see why. There's no passcode. But that's not what has my breath catching. No. It's the picture on the screen that gets me. The image of someone so brave and so beautiful that my heart nearly erupts in my chest.