Maid for the Mafia by Jaylee

First Position

**ROMANY**

At that point, I was a little confused. "You know what happened to my neck," I grumbled, before remembering. *Nope. I forgot. He actually doesn't know.*

Damien wasn't in the room when Alex gave his 'demonstration'. In fact, Alex sent Damien out *right* before it happened and then he finished his little speech, *right* before Damien returned. *Oddly enough.

*Damien has no idea how uncomfortable Alex made me in there. As far as he knows, it didn't get any more physical than my bouncing on his knee. Shit.*

I glanced at the mirror just behind my head and examined my throat carefully. *Damn. There it is. A perfectly visible handprint.* I cringed, shrinking away from Damien and the fury in his gaze.

"*Motherfucker*."

"It was after you left the room," I admitted, my voice soft and fearful. "But I don't want to talk about it now. I'll tell you later. I promise. Right now, I just want to get this done."

He shook his head then scowled. "No. Tell me now. Tell me how in the fuck you sat there and let him wrap his fist around your throat to choke the fuck out of you."

"I-I didn't let him! I was trying to get him to stop."

Damien was seething, his entire body flexing as he stood there. His gaze locked on some point beyond the open door to my sitting room and then he shook his head at it, as if someone was standing there watching. "Is that all that he did?" he asked, his voice sharp with the crack of glacial ice. When I didn't speak, he chuckled humorlessly, snapping his eyes back toward my neck and shaking his head. "Did he touch you?"

I hissed.

tight. "You know better than that," he said. "Did... he...

and clamped my eyes shut, willing myself to calm down. *I already said that I'm

he whispered. "Where else did he touch

down at me. "Later," was all

the service elevator. *What the hell is that shit? Has someone been playing in the mud?* The longer I stared at them, the more I realized...

suite. He leaned down toward my ear and whispered, "Here comes the part of the job that *actually* earns you that money." "W-what?" I asked, just as the pair of

the space was now brightly lit and I was able to see that the walls were not black after all. They were a deep, dark violet that was actually rather soothing. Alex stood just beyond the table, next to an extremely empty wheelchair. He didn't smile when walked in and neither Enzo, nor Antony was anywhere

a strange bowl of orange goop and a towel. His bright green eyes fell over me slowly and although he didn't say anything, I could feel

eyes surveying the room. "Finished already?"

moments, as if to say *'just you wait til we're alone'*, before shedding the animosity to focus on his best

To the right of the large, overly embellished dining table was a massive pool of blood. But that wasn't all. There were... things in the blood. Tiny little pieces of God knew what that glinted off the lamplight creating shapes and swirls and... debris... in the blood. "What

from across the

"Who cares what's in it? I'm not asking you to catalog it.

him up a bit, then turned around

hell are you going?"

so I thought it might help if

in that large closet right there. So there's no need

you,"