Maid for the Mafia by Jaylee

Little Scrapper

**ROMANY**

Huffing and puffing above Dana, I pin her arms near her head and work to catch my breath. Her dark eyes are wild and her chest is heaving, a half snarl turning her busted lip as she gazes up at me. My eyes scan her the rest of her features with satisfaction. It seems to me I got her pretty good. The left side of her face looks to be swelling and the bruise forming under one eye promises to blossom into the mother of all shiners. She got me too a couple of times, but not in the face and for that I am grateful. Because despite that the boys are still bouncing around the hallway, I still intend to enjoy their simultaneous company tonight.

"Get off of me, Puta!" Dana growls. "Or I'll have you snatched away from here and sold to the lowest bidder."

With a chuckle, I whisper, "They'd kill you for it, trust me. You'll be lucky if they don't kill you for threatening it."

She snorts, her nostrils flaring. "You certainly have a high opinion of yourself. You're just a whore. Probably a very good one, but a whore nonetheless. The men in this place don't respect you, they *desire* you. There's a world of difference between the two. Sure, they might get upset when their favorite plaything is gone, but they'll find another. Girls like you are bought cheap and widely advertised."

I don't let it show, but her words sting. I have often thought the same thing and wondered if maybe I should take a break from this sexual revolution I seem to be on. Although I don't want her words to affect me, they do, and I can feel my body trembling with new anger.

"I guess you're right," I say with a shrug, cutting my glance toward the hallway as a particularly large crash sounds. Looking back at her I add, "Maybe I shouldn't be worried for them, then. If what you say is true, they must fight over all their whores."

She snickers, flexing her wrists in my grip. "You think they are fighting over *you*? Alex already told me that you are nothing but a maid with a pretty pussy. Not good enough for marriage. Your most valuable skill is obviously that you let him do whatever he wants to you. He can even sell you off to his friends and you stick around so long as he feeds that mouth of yours his dick afterward. Pathetic."

A hot coil of rage burns in me for the smallest of seconds and for a tiny little second I believe her, but then I remind myself of what happened to those 'men' she mentioned and I'm able to shake it off. Still panting, I allow myself to smile. *If she only knew.* "I'm curious," I begin softly, noticing for the first time that one of her eyelashes sits like a feather on my knuckles. "How many times did you have to beg Damien to stay a little longer after he's fucked you and asked his questions? And out of all of those times, how many did he actually stay?"

"It wasn't safe for him to stay with me there. Every time we met

that's fine. I understand. But ask yourself how many times... Was it every time, or was it only once? Because he only told me

moment I'm concerned that her head might actually explode. "Your cousin is dead,"

manage to reply, trying to holster my rage for this bitch despite that I *know* she speaks a lie. "And how would you know

to join him, he gave her to his men and *that* lot don't quit until the bitch

Santos' deal. Anything could have been done to her since then and she was* chained to a bed when he called. Might he have done that to her afterward? He did say that

him. I have to

been tricked by

said the same about Alex and Alex

set of hands rests upon my shoulders

her eyelash off of my knuckle and sticking it to her forehead. "I believe this is yours," I say sweetly, standing up and spinning around with a

as he grabs me in a

and panting with anger. Neither of them seems able to look at me. "When did they stop fighting?" I whisper in his ear as he lowers me back to the ground, sliding my body against his the entire way to my

minutes ago. But nevermind them - when did you

knees, I