The Maid: Mafia Romance (Series)

Illusion

” G et up!” A loud boom crashed into my ear.

What was that sound? So loud. And soon came the mini earthquake, my body tremoring in seismic activity as something shook me.

It must be a natural disaster. I should get up and find safety. But I was too groggy, and my head felt like it had been thoroughly grazed through by a bulldozer. Instead, I dug myself deeper under the blankets and pillows, in the guise of finding safety.

Bad move. The drill only shrilled out louder, and this time even closer to my ear.

“I said get up, Jay!”

I’d had enough! “Ahhh. Go away. Go away. I’m safe here.”

I floundered about in bed, picked up a pillow, and used it to smack the shit out of the object that made that awful sound.

“The fuck! You hit me with the pillow.”

Boss! I registered that voice and leapt out of bed like a zombie awakened from the dead, eyelids wide open to see the damage I’d done to Giovanni, when bright sunlight stabbed me like a million sharp knives jabbing into my pupils.

Ping! Ping! Ping!

Oh, the pain…

This was no natural disaster. This was me experiencing a hangover for the first time. It wasn’t pleasant at all, and I fell back onto the bed again. What was I thinking, drinking last night?

Last night…

What happened last night?

All I remembered was asking Kimberly to teach me how to drink. And then I drank a few shots. And then I told my sob story to Kimberly. And then…

Nothing!

My memory bank was blank after that episode.

Crap…

How did I get into bed? Did Giovanni bring me here?

Thinking about Giovanni, I slid open one eye. And immediately shut it again, but the imprint of Giovanni’s spectacular face early in the morning kind of cured me of my hangover a bit.

“Get up,” he commanded, looking pissed ’cause I’d accidentally smacked his head.

“Morning, Boss.” I smiled cheekily at him to repent for the damage I did earlier. “You sure look handsome today.”

And it was the truth.

Gosh, he looked so sexy. Where was he going, dressing up to the nines like that? Some business meeting, perhaps?

“Don’t try to please me. Now get up. Now.” He tugged at my arm, and somehow, I ended up getting pulled up and up until our noses came so close to touching each other. He stopped there, and we locked eyes. At this distance, I got a close-up shot of his midnight pupils. Oh, my… I was feeling all jelly-like again. Sheesh, what beautiful soulful eyes, and a handsome man, overall. I was one lucky girl to have him as my lover. “Spacing out again? It’s past eleven already. You haven’t had breakfast yet. Are you going to skip lunch, too?”

“Past eleven already?” I somehow managed to articulate those words, even though my mind was half dazed from the hangover, as well as from inhaling Giovanni’s intoxicating pheromone. “How much did I drink last night? I feel awful.”

“You should. For what you put me through.”

“How mean.” I pushed him away and massaged my forehead. “If I’d known I would get these symptoms, I wouldn’t have drunk so much.”

“That’s your own fault for not doing your research first.” He berated me, flicking my forehead as punishment.

“Ow. I’m already in pain, and you do this to me?” I flicked him the evil eye and rubbed my sore forehead. “Evil person. Evil mafia man,” I muttered under my breath.

“I heard that.” He swatted my hand away and massaged my forehead instead. “Does it really hurt?”

“Yes,” I said, feeling a whole lot better when he applied pressure on my temple.

“You shouldn’t do stupid things like that. If you can’t drink, you shouldn’t force yourself to. Nothing is more important than your health.”

“I understand. I’m sorry to make you worry.” Although I was feeling so blissfully happy inside.

What a divine feeling, having your lover massage your temples. A perfect start to the morning, minus the hangover, of course.

“And another thing, stop spouting out poetic crap about stars. It’s fucking annoying.”

“Stars? Poems?” I turned to him, confused by what he meant. “Did I recite some poems about stars last night? Was it movie stars or galaxy stars? Can you be more specific?”

Giovanni stared at me, flabbergasted. “You don’t remember what you said last night?”

“What did I say last night? My entire memory bank from last night was completely wiped clean after that one shot.”

Giovanni face-palmed himself. He glowered at me. “You’ve forgotten what we talked about, haven’t you? You’ve forgotten what I told you, haven’t you?”

“I haven’t forgotten it. It’s just I don’t remember it. Was it something important? What did you tell me?” I went into panic mode, trying to remember what we spoke about last night, but nothing came to mind. “Boss, tell me what it’s about.”

“Forget it. It’s not important,” he finished off sarcastically.

“When you put it like that, I feel like it must be important. I feel guilty now for not remembering.”Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

“You should. If you hadn’t drunk yourself silly, you would have remembered what I said. Now, get up. Didn’t you say you wanted to go to Garden by the Bay, today? It’s getting late. There’ll be fucking loads of people by the time we get there.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“No, I’m not mad at you.”

“Then can you tell me what you said last night?”

“I said forget it. I’m not going to tell you again. It’s your own bloody fault for drinking yourself stupid. That opportunity only comes in once in a lifetime, and now you’ve lost it. Now, get up and go take a shower. I’ll wait for you in the dining room.”

“You’re bossier than usual, Boss.”

“I’ve always been bossy. It’s you who has changed.”

“Really?” Maybe Giovanni was right. Before I was his maid, and now I was his lover, so maybe how I react had changed too. I decided to be a little rebellious, to see what his reaction was. “If I don’t go, what will you do with me?”

“If you don’t go, I’ll take you in there myself. I’ll have mindless sex with you in the shower, both of us naked.”

“You can’t. I have my period.”

“There are other ways to have mindless sex, Jay. I could use your mouth while-”

“Okay, okay. That’s enough. I’m going. Don’t make me all giddy early in the morning. I’m already half dazed as it is now. I don’t need to expend my energy on those activities,” I muttered, throwing him a backward glance, annoyed at seeing his smug look, before walking off to the bathroom.

I went for a quick shower and felt fifty percent refreshed. After donning some casual clothing-jeans and a white top-I hurried out to the dining room and saw a sight that made my eyeballs almost drop to the floor. Giovanni was busy setting up the table.

Now that was a first. Back home in New York, I was always the one to set up the table. But boy, was I going to enjoy this. I wasn’t going to ask any questions. Not at all.

Take it as it comes. Enjoy it as it passes, is what I say.

“What’s this?” I took a taste of the porridge, and my face immediately lit up in delight when that soft texture touched my tongue and the infusion of the berries’ flavors melted in my mouth.

“It’s porridge.”

“I know it’s porridge, but it’s not the regular porridge I used to eat at home. There must be some sort of special ingredient in it. Like nuts. I can taste the nutty flavor. It’s super delicious, Boss.”

“Damned right it should be super delicious. It’s not often I go into the kitchen.”

I dropped my spoon, and my mouth hung open.

“No way,” I said. “No way,” I said again, this time with more emphasis. There’s absolutely no way Giovanni could make this dish. I mean, he’s the mafia boss. He’s so well refined, so well made, so put together. Setting up the table was already hard to imagine, but cooking porridge too… Now that was definitely unimaginable. “You made this porridge, Boss?”

“You think I’m only good in bed?”

I went into a hacking cough, my face bright red as soon as he said those words.

I asked about the cooking, and he had to insert the word ‘bed’ into our conversation. Why did he always manage to inject our sex life into every conversation. Just because he knew I had a vivid imagination. Was he trying to make me combust this morning?

“Thank you for the meal,” I said once I’d scooped all the porridge into my mouth and finished the bowl. “I enjoyed it very much.”

“I’m glad.”

“You should go into the kitchen more often,” I suggested. “The guys would love to taste your cooking.”

Giovanni cleared his throat and slyly grinned at me. “That porridge was a limited edition. Only a select few will get to taste it.”

“Oh. So, it doesn’t happen often?” I felt compelled to ask.

“Once in a blue moon.”

“Wow. I guess I must be one of the lucky ones, then.”

“You are.” He smiled at me, and suddenly he extended his hand to wipe the corner of my mouth clean. My heart slammed against my chest, and I froze. “You had a bit of porridge stuck on your lips.”

“Thanks,” I said breathlessly.

I love him. Oh, dear Ma up in heaven, I love him.