Maid for the Mafia by Jaylee

Only Me

**ROMANY**

The ride out of the city was uncomfortably silent. I was seated in the back of a long black sedan with no one but DeMarco for company. Ruby was somewhere ahead of us on the back of Giselle. Her streetbike. She loved that damn thing. Much more than she loved me. Because if she loved *me*? She would be sitting next to me in this cliche mob car holding my hand to keep me from wetting my pants. Because honestly, this was the last ride I ever thought I would be on. I could feel his heat. DeMarco's. Every time he shifted in his seat, I felt his energy. Lucky for me, he was doing just as good a job at ignoring me as I was at ignoring him.

At least, I thought he was, until he spoke to me. "Romany Dubois," he said in that deep chocolatey voice reserved for dangerous men. "Tell me... do you always dress like a third grade teacher?"

My thighs clenched together, my face souring as I pictured what I must look like in my stained collared shirt and faded blue jeans that were two sizes too big for me. Freshly fucked? Or freshly dumped? Probably the latter, given that my hair was a tangled mess of desperately shed tears at the moment. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if I had mascara still smeared across my cheeks. Come to think of it, I hadn't washed my face since the booting.

"I don't dress like a teacher. I dress like a student," I snapped, my eyes lowering egregiously as I glanced his way.

Dear God he was good looking and maybe I shouldn't be barking at someone who can end my life with a snap of his fingers, but as innocent as his remark might have been, I still felt insulted. *Behave, Ro. Behave.* I studied him, his five o'clock shadow that dressed his otherwise smooth jawline acutely visible even in the dark of the car. It made me wonder what it might feel like if it scraped across my lips. I could almost feel the prickling of it as I watched him. His neatly clipped black hair was slightly tousled, as if he enjoyed running his hands through it on a regular basis. Though obviously styled, it still mananged to appear soft and natural.

"There are a set of rules you will be expected to follow while working for me and living in my house. You will find out what they are when we get there," he said, turning his bright green gaze my way. "There will be a contract, as well as extremely generous pay. Once that contract has been signed, there will be no going back on it. Is that understood?"

The word 'contract' and the way he said it... each syllable so precisely executed, made me shiver with foreboding.

say 'fuck that' or 'no way' - just the fact that he was a

on my lips for the briefest of seconds before he turned away. "You'll

now?" I asked, angling myself in my

answer me. Pulling out his phone, he started tapping away until it

the window. Rows of trees lined the street we had turned onto and I mentally berated myself for not paying attention when we cut

*Shit.*

I *did* decide to leave. Besides, everything that I owned was presently riding in the trunk. *This is good, Ro, this is perfect. No one will find you here. No one will know where you've gone. It will

you learned your lesson yet? Matthew doesn't care about

to once again turn my way. "Why did you

that what

folding over me thoughtfully.

man obviously didn't know of my public humiliation and

just in time to see that we were approaching a massive brick

community?" I asked. As we rolled past the gate my eyes caught on a man stationed just behind it, entirely dressed in black. In the dark it was hard to see him at all and I had to wonder what kind of neighborhood had guards