Maid for the Mafia by Jaylee
Chapter 120
You Didn't Mean It
**ROMANY**
Waking up in a circular bed surrounded by four of the most devastatingly handsome men in all creation should have been weird. It should have made me feel like a slut, or a bimbo. Like a tramp that has *zero* respect for herself. Or a naive little girl that falls for grown men and their lies. Opening my eyes to the sight of a sex swing in the corner, and a selection of vibrators on the shelf should have made me feel dirty... or cheap... or *busted...* But, it doesn't.
Why?
Because for one, I've changed so remarkably in the past month and a half that I am starting to question if I ever really was* that girl that Ruby thought me to be at all.
And two... because as I stretch out and smile, I take a gander around and realize... I'm completely alone.
*What the fuck?*
*Where the hell are my men?*
"Alex?" I call out, sitting up with a start and dragging the white fur coverlet up with me. "Alex??"
My heart starts pumping erratically, a sense of foreboding taking me hostage as I realize today will be the day.
Tonight at midnight, I'm leaving.
*And just where in the fuck is my phone?*
*Oh my God!* *No!*
As I leap from the bed, I wince with pain, but ignore my immediate soreness in the interest of saving my sorry little ass. Holy crap, if they find my phone and look through it... they might try to keep me here. Or worse... they might see it as betrayal.
*Shit!*
straight for Alex's bedroom. All is quiet in the halls and the sun is streaming in from the skylights above me.
down Alex's hallway like this in the middle of what seems to be
how long did I
Alex's bedroom, I find it locked and I
*Should I knock?*
is he even
known him to
*Not ever.*
it
*Unless...*
down the hall toward the living room, crying out as I go, "Alex? Where
to find him there alone, shirtless, and drowning in a bottle of his favorite vice.
the sofa with his back to me, twirling the half empty bottle along the top of his wool clad kneecap, though I doubt that he is drunk, the tense set of his shoulders tells me he might just be angry. The moment I step into the room, he stills, glaring at
his shoulders flex with tension. "Why didn't you answer
pour a healthy amount into his mouth. "Which question would you
and my back straightens, my cheeks heating with apprehension and my head filling with
*He found my phone.*
*He read my messages.*
*He looks pissed.*
go for the door, my feet following
not letting him spoil
just go find out where they
back, stepping out into the
around on my heels and head back into his suite. Stepping inside, I slam the door behind me with enough force to set his teeth and then I scowl at him, ignoring the fact that I can see his wonderfully bare chest and ever thickening
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