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!*
shoulder it on and race out of the playroom to head straight for Alex's bedroom. All is quiet in the halls and the sun is streaming in from the skylights above me. Skylights that I never noticed until now. *Huh. How
like this in the middle of what seems to be
long did I
reach Alex's bedroom, I find it
*Should I knock?*
mean... is he
never known him to lock
*Not ever.*
would it be
*Unless...*
the hall toward the living room, crying
to find him there alone, shirtless, and drowning in a bottle of
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,
and watching his shoulders
healthy amount into his mouth. "Which question would you like answered
says the word '*angel'* trickles up my spine and my
*He found my phone.*
*He read my messages.*
*He looks pissed.*
go for the door, my feet following when
letting him spoil everything with
find out where
don't look back, stepping out into the hall and ignoring him completely. "They're
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
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