Maid for the Mafia by Jaylee

Wedding Soup

**ROMANY**

*Oh fuck no you don't. Not again. You don't get to plant your bullshit in my head again!*

"You're joking, right? You've been *looking* everywhere for me? Have you? How strange that you haven't even tried calling me once. Not until today. And *why you did today* is the real mystery."

"Romany, come on. Stop the dramatics," he groaned into the phone, laying on the theatrics for God knew who. "You can't paint me the bad guy when *you're the one that left.* You ran away because you were embarrassed, that's understandable. But to disappear when you have nowhere else to go? To hit the streets with no money? Anything could have happened to you! Running away is *never that answer!*" *Why am I even listening to this crap?*

"Is that what you call it when *you* pack up my shit *for me* while I'm at the Dean's office, then hide my luggage in the closet? Is that what it is, when you to strip me naked the moment I get home and shove-" "Stop it! That's not what happened! You-"

A stranger's voice sounded in the background, low and commanding. "Let her fucking finish," I thought I heard it say.

I went on, "-your dick in my mouth and tell me how perfectly I handled the Dean and your lies! Was that supposed to be my reward for being your little puppet? Then, when you bent me over your dresser to force your way between my legs again, *despite that I repeatedly told you *I was too upset* - all the while moaning *'I need to feel you one last time'* - before spitting your pathetic little cum droppings into the dry Sahara of my vagina - just to throw my clothes at me when you've finished, toss me and my luggage out the door, and then tell me to keep the fuck out. You call that running away? Fuck you and your lies!"

"My lies? Angel, I'm trying to protect you! If you'll just tell who's had their hands on you, I'll make sure they never touch you again! I will personally show up and bet the holy hell out of them myself!" Matthew argued, pretending to sound angry.

I snorted. "Since when do you attack anything that isn't wearing a skirt or isn't a student in your class?"

"Romany! Those are serious accusations to be throwing around. Watch your mouth," he hissed, this time with *real* anger.

phone call had to do with something *he* was in trouble for. Was it with the Dean? Another student? Maybe a new girlfriend who might have heard some rumors? The motive behind this fucked up conversation still was unclear. *Maybe he is trying to set me up again!* Oh hell no, that's what's not about to happen! "How's this for watching my mouth, Professor? You're a predator. A manipulator. You're lucky* I hate you so much that I'd rather forget you,

untrue. You *know* how obsessed I am with you. You know how much I love you. H-how s-sorry I was that the Dean chose to expel you! I told you not to say those things to him! I told you that

"What the hell is this Matthew? The entire confession was your plan and you *know* it was. Despite that you promised me otherwise when I first agreed to keep seeing you. *Even after* what you did to me on our first date- and all the abuse

"She's lying," he pleaded, talking to someone else. "She's just embarrassed! I swear - I love her. Sh-she left

*What the fuck?*

some of the conversation on the other side. But all I could hear was dishes and laughing, and Matthew whining. "Matthew?" I called out again, as

the other line grew quiet, in its place was someone breathing heavily into

"Matthew?" I said again.

cascaded over my back. There was something about that laugh... something slightly familiar. *Or maybe I was just being paranoid.* "Who is

that about? Why would Matthew feel the need to call me and ask me to repeat a bunch of lies after all that

Matthew was in trouble. Like he was banking on making me look like a liar. Or... he was hoping

voicemail. When I called back again, it didn't even ring, just blared the annoyingly loud back and forth warble

across my face the thought of Matthew being in some kind of trouble.

as soft and bare as a baby's bottom. After that, I deep conditioned my hair and took the time to blow dry the waves out, something I rarely *ever* do. But God only knew why in the hell I was primping for my punishment. Maybe I was hoping that the nicer I looked, the easier Alex might be when inflicting my punishment. Honestly, I couldn't imagine what

be. Sealing itself over my breasts and my hips like saran wrap, showcasing every secret curve, and every rounded swell that I possessed. The skirt fell more comfortably over my legs than I originally anticipated. The slit only showed when I chose to sit down. Against Alex's orders, I pulled on

by none other than Stella. The skinny blond bitch looked angry as fuck to be serving me, but she didn't say a word. Just glared at me

wonder what Alex said to her. I wonder

the two glasses of wine and simple bowl of wedding soup set out before me on the dinner tray. First, I downed one entire glass of wine. I had no idea what madness I was walking into, and being drunk or heavily buzzed, probably wasn't such a bad thing. I ate the soup as quickly and neatly as I could. The warm sweetness of it seemed to wrap around my insides and bring a slight flush to my skin. Once my bowl was empty, I slid my feet in the white high heels

mirror, I headed out of the suite and toward the meeting room. Every single step felt like it was heavier than the last and every beat of my heart