Maid for the Mafia by Jaylee

Banshee

**ROMANY**

Antony Angeletto.

I'd *almost* forgotten about him. Almost.

He's dressed immaculately of course. In an Italian three piece suit of shale gray. His short brown ponytail pulled back as severely as ever and he's freshly shaven. He looks nice enough, but I seem to remember him sticking his penis where it wasn't welcome the last time he was around. And... I don't like his creepy little smile. Or the way he's eyeing me up in my robe. With that thought in mind, I take a huge step back from the closet. Disturbingly enough, that puts me closer to the bed and judging by the little twinkle that sparks in his dark pitiless eyes, that fact has not escaped him.

My phone is on the *other* nightstand. Unless I can convince myself to walk around him, I'm going to have to leap across the bed to grab it.

"What the hell are you doing in here? Why are you in my room?" I snap angrily.

He chuckles darkly, walking a few more paces in my direction. His *aura* forces me to retreat, I simply do not want his energy to touch mine. So I continue backing up until the backs of my thighs hit the mattress. Which coincidentally, still looks like an altar for sin.

my, my," he tsks, his gaze traveling delightedly over my curves. "Not quite the pliant little mouse you were a

the gills and not by choice. Thanks to *she, who shall not be named*, I was half out of my mind." Stella, that cunt. "You should leave. Alex will short

laughs, taking the remaining five feet between us in two tiny little steps. Now he's only about half a foot away from

as his irises disappear and he reaches out a hand to trace over my neck. "I'm thinking of making him a very generous offer. So no, I

that he did not intend for you to step into *my space.* Get. Out." Something tells me that if I decide to make a mad dash for my phone, he's going to tackle me. We're too close to the bed and I can see significant activity just below his belt buckle. This bastard is getting hard and his *fingers* are still on my neck. *Okay Ro. You are going to jump for your phone in a

tightens just under my chin and at the same time he reaches forward with his

I smack his hand away. Thankfully,

back up please, you are in my motherfucken bubble and I need to get to

either lean into him, or risk having the damn thing fall open. Of course, I end up flush with his chest and reach up to clasp *both* of my hands over the front of my robe beneath his. Once I'm confident it won't be tugged open I start to reel back, only for him to shake his head and clamp his free arm around my waist. "I don't think so," he whispers, leaning in to trace his long greedy nose over the side of my face. "Looks like *you've been busy. Someone has definitely been sipping your nectar." As his arm lowers from my waist to my ass,

*Whores? Oh fuck no.*

*CRACK.*

doesn't let me go. Instead, his eyes flash with anger

hand closes around my throat and absolutely nothing gets out. *Or IN, for that matter. At least I just drew in a complete breath.* Then again, my lungs are full to bursting and the sensation is mildly painful when I can't