Maid for the Mafia
Wedding Soup

**ROMANY**

*Oh fuck no you don't. Not again. You don't get to plant your bullshit in my head again!*

"You're joking, right? You've been *looking* everywhere for me? Have you? How strange that you haven't even tried calling me once. Not until today. And *why you did today* is the real mystery."

"Romany, come on. Stop the dramatics," he groaned into the phone, laying on the theatrics for God knew who. "You can't paint me the bad guy when *you're the one that left.* You ran away because you were embarrassed, that's understandable. But to disappear when you have nowhere else to go? To hit the streets with no money? Anything could have happened to you! Running away is *never that answer!*" *Why am I even listening to this crap?*

"Is that what you call it when *you* pack up my shit *for me* while I'm at the Dean's office, then hide my luggage in the closet? Is that what it is, when you to strip me naked the moment I get home and shove-" "Stop it! That's not what happened! You-"

A stranger's voice sounded in the background, low and commanding. "Let her fucking finish," I thought I heard it say.

I went on, "-your dick in my mouth and tell me how perfectly I handled the Dean and your lies! Was that supposed to be my reward for being your little puppet? Then, when you bent me over your dresser to force your way between my legs again, *despite that I repeatedly told you *I was too upset* - all the while moaning *'I need to feel you one last time'* - before spitting your pathetic little cum droppings into the dry Sahara of my vagina - just to throw my clothes at me when you've finished, toss me and my luggage out the door, and then tell me to keep the fuck out. You call that running away? Fuck you and your lies!"

"My lies? Angel, I'm trying to protect you! If you'll just tell who's had their hands on you, I'll make sure they never touch you again! I will personally show up and bet the holy hell out of them myself!" Matthew argued, pretending to sound angry.

I snorted. "Since when do you attack anything that isn't wearing a skirt or isn't a student in your class?"

"Romany! Those are serious accusations to be throwing around. Watch your mouth," he hissed, this time with *real* anger.

What on Earth was this shady *'pedophil-ish'* fuck playing at now? I had a feeling there was someone there listening. I could sense that this entire phone call had to do with something *he* was in trouble for. Was it with the Dean? Another student? Maybe a new girlfriend who might have heard some rumors? The motive behind this fucked up conversation still was unclear. *Maybe he is trying to set me up again!* Oh hell no, that's what's not about to happen! "How's this for watching my mouth, Professor? You're a predator. A manipulator. You're lucky* I hate you so much that I'd rather forget you, than press charges on you. Prick!"

He laughed nervously, and I could have sworn I heard someone close to him snicker. "That's untrue. You *know* how obsessed I am with you. You know how much I love you. H-how s-sorry I was that the Dean chose to expel you! I told you not to say those things to him! I told you that I would handle it. But you wouldn't listen to me!"

"What the fuck?" I snapped into the phone incredulously. Suddenly I began to wonder how truly psychotic Matthew was. "What the hell is this Matthew? The entire confession was your plan and you *know* it was. Despite that you promised me otherwise when I first agreed to keep seeing you. *Even after* what you did to me on our first date- and all the abuse that came afterward! I may have been stupid enough to fall for your crap then but I'm not anymore!"

"That's not true!" He screamed at me. "She's lying," he pleaded, talking to someone else. "She's just embarrassed! I swear - I love her. Sh-she left me! I didn't want her to leave!"

*What the fuck?*

"Matthew? Who the hell are you talking to?" I hissed, turning up the volume in hopes of catching some of the conversation on the other side. But all I could hear was dishes and laughing, and Matthew whining. "Matthew?" I called out again, as loudly as I could manage without shouting.

Suddenly the background noise on the other line grew quiet, in its place was someone breathing heavily into the phone.

"Matthew?" I said again.

A deep, dark chuckle sounded on the other end and chills cascaded over my back. There was something about that laugh... something slightly familiar. *Or maybe I was just being paranoid.* "Who is this?" I asked. "Where's Matthew?"

All I heard in answer was a click as the call ended. My eyebrows drew together in confusion. *What the hell was that about? Why would Matthew feel the need to call me and ask me to repeat a bunch of lies after all that he'd done to me? Why did he want to know who I've been talking to?"*

It sounded... almost like Matthew was in trouble. Like he was banking on making me look like a liar. Or... he was hoping I was still stupid enough to agree to his 'alternative' truths. *Well fuck that, homie.*

Just to see what would happen... I dialed Matthew's phone. It rang three times before cutting to voicemail. When I called back again, it didn't even ring, just blared the annoyingly loud back and forth warble of a phone that had suddenly gone completely offline. Like when the battery has been removed... or the phone has been destroyed.

For some reason, I couldn't help the tiny little smile that spread across my face the thought of Matthew being in some kind of trouble. In fact, I even started to laugh.

Shaking off the bizarre phone call, I shifted my focus back to what I needed to do to prepare for the meeting. I still had four hours until I had to get dressed, so I took an hour-long soak in the bath. Making sure that every single inch of me was as soft and bare as a baby's bottom. After that, I deep conditioned my hair and took the time to blow dry the waves out, something I rarely *ever* do. But God only knew why in the hell I was primping for my punishment. Maybe I was hoping that the nicer I looked, the easier Alex might be when inflicting my punishment. Honestly, I couldn't imagine what he had in mind. I liked to think we had moved past his need to flaunt his power over me. His... control. Silly me. I should have clung tighter to my original fear of him. I should have reminded myself that every time I began to feel connected to Alex, he liked to punch me in the gut with a cold fist. Shocking the color right out of my skin and tuning me in to an entirely different frequency than the one I was set on.

When five thirty p.m. finally rolled around, I stepped into the dress. It was just as tight as I thought it might be. Sealing itself over my breasts and my hips like saran wrap, showcasing every secret curve, and every rounded swell that I possessed. The skirt fell more comfortably over my legs than I originally anticipated. The slit only showed when I chose to sit down. Against Alex's orders, I pulled on a white thong, hoping it would go unnoticed due to its color. The lines were barely visible behind the velvet when scrunched up, so that is what I did.

My dinner arrived at fifteen to six, just as promised and was delivered by none other than Stella. The skinny blond bitch looked angry as fuck to be serving me, but she didn't say a word. Just glared at me and my dress like as she left, her dark eyes alight with the promise of violence yet to come.

*I wonder what Alex said to her. I wonder if he confronted her about everything I told him.*

Shaking thoughts of her into the back of my head, I surveyed the two glasses of wine and simple bowl of wedding soup set out before me on the dinner tray. First, I downed one entire glass of wine. I had no idea what madness I was walking into, and being drunk or heavily buzzed, probably wasn't such a bad thing. I ate the soup as quickly and neatly as I could. The warm sweetness of it seemed to wrap around my insides and bring a slight flush to my skin. Once my bowl was empty, I slid my feet in the white high heels and swallowed the second glass of wine in one gulp.

Checking my reflection one last time in the mirror, I headed out of the suite and toward the meeting room. Every single step felt like it was heavier than the last and every beat of my heart rocked my chest with anxiety. I didn't know who was going to be in this room other than Alex, but I knew he wouldn't be alone.

I took a deep breath and turned the handle, stepping into the familiar dark space like a lamb to the slaughter.

"Would you look at that," Alex hissed from the far end of the table. "She's on time."

Strangely enough, no one but Alex was seated at the table, but I knew he wasn't the only one there. There were dark couches along both walls and although it was nearly too dark for me to see, I sensed movement from them. On *both* sides. "Come here," Alex ordered, his voice cold, but soft.

As I approached him, I started to notice my body heating. Like a slow fire that kindled between my legs, that was slowly spreading over my flesh. And when I say fire, I don't mean warmth, I mean *fire*. I literally felt like I was burning. The feeling was so intense that by the time I reached Alex at the end of the table, I was panting for breath.

"Water," I whispered, suddenly falling forward into Alex's arms as the strange burning grew harder and harder to ignore.

Alex chuckled cruelly, bringing a glass to my lips and tipping it up for me to drink. I spat it out. *It was more wine!* I was heaving, lifting the skirt of my dress to cool my skin as it burned.

"Water Alex, please! Please!" I begged.

He helped me to my feet, then once again placed a glass to my lips. This time, it *was* water and I drank and drank greedily, until the cup was empty and my tongue swirled into the glass, searching for more. I was swaying on my feet, my vision blurring from what I thought must be heat stroke.

"You're still thirsty, yes?" Alex asked in a dark voice, taking off his jacket and slipping out of his shirt, before sitting back in his chair.

I nodded, "Yes."

"Good," he smiled cruelly. "Then your punishment can begin."