Maid for the Mafia
Lead the Way

**ROMANY**

Even as I asked, I knew it wasn't him. Tiny was too gentle. Too soft spoken. And if I wasn't already sure it hadn't been him, his eyes just now would've told me.

He appeared insulted and shocked. "No," he answered gravely. "Absolutely not. I would never take advantage of any woman that way. I..." he trailed off, disappearing into my bedroom and coming back with a blanket to cover me with. I smiled at him as he took the time to tuck the blanket all around me, making sure I was covered from head to toe. "Thanks," I said with a sigh. My head was still cloudy. Images from last night stuck in their - *almost* - state. Coming in flashes, like from an old polaroid camera that snaps pictures you have to wait ten or so minutes to see.

"No problem," Tiny said, pulling up the ottoman to take a seat in front of me. "How much do you* remember?" he asked.

I shook my head, not wanting to see what I was *already* seeing. The older man with the cruel face and the dark demon-like eyes. Alex staring down at me and commanding me to suck him off while some faceless bastard behind me pounded into my core. I *didn't* want the images I was getting. Didn't want* the memory of the pain. Of the... *burning.*

"I was burning," I said softly. "I was so, so thirsty. All I wanted was the water in that glass that Alex wouldn't give me. I kept reaching for it. It felt like, no matter how much I drank, it wasn't enough." I shuddered, the memory of the burning in my flesh causing my stomach to roil. "I don't understand. Why the hell was I feeling that way?"

"You were drugged," Tiny said matter of factly.

Another flash - Stella coming into my room with my dinner! "That *bitch!*" I hissed, wanting now more than ever to go down for breakfast. "It was her! She must have done it! She brought my dinner!" I growled and Tiny nodded.

I thought back to that night that I went swimming. When that bastard guard, Gerald, brought me nothing but wine for my dinner. Then the next day when Stella mentioned how disappointed Santos was that I never tasted the wine. *What did she have planned for me that night, I wonder?*

"Stella drugged me!" I snapped. "I have to tell Alex!" I started to get up, but Tiny stopped me.

"Wait," he said softly. "Just wait. Alex is... he's..."

"He's sleeping off the barrel of whiskey he swam in last night," Mickey's voice sounded from the open bedroom doorway. "I wouldn't expect him to be awake for another couple of hours." I flinched, turning my head to face Mickey as he stepped into the sitting room. "How are you feeling, doll? Better I hope."

"I..." I shivered as Mickey reached out to squeeze my arm. "I need to know what happened last night. I need to let Alex know that Stella drugged me!"

"We know what she did," Mickey said, his eyes glazing with fury. "And you better believe she's not going to get away with it."

"Good," I snapped. "I don't trust her. That's the second time she's done something like that to me. The first time she-"

"Wait!" Mickey snapped. "What do you mean, the second time? She drugged you another time?"

I shook my head. "I don't know for sure. I think she *tried* another time, but I don't have any proof. But she admitted to sending the wine out to me. She said it was from Santos. That Santos wanted me to-" "Santos?!" Mickey hissed, jolting forward. His bright green eyes were dark with calculation as he met Tiny's gaze. "Go and get her some coffee. Get it now."

Tiny nodded, exiting the suite without another word. Mickey looked back at me, his eyes full of concern. My body shuddered again as Mickey scooted closer, the bare muscles of his chest and arms flexing with barely contained fury.

I took a deep breath, shaking off the flashing image of that *man* from last night. The fat one with the black eyes. "God," I hissed, battling back the tears that burned behind my eyes. *I will not cry. I will not be their victim.* "What do you know of Santos?" Mickey asked carefully.

I glared at him, suddenly irritated for no known reason. "I don't know anything about him. I figure he's just another one of the guards Stella said I was hired to pleasure."

He nodded, his jaw clenching as a cold smile turned his lips. "Not quite. Is that what she told you? That Santos was a guard?"

I groaned, "No! She just said that he was disappointed that I never tried the wine. That he couldn't wait to meet me or something. I don't completely remember, but I did get the feeling that the wine was tainted." "You are absolutely certain that *Stella* said the name *Santos* to you?"

My eyes narrowed at him, anger erupting inside of me at his question. "Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes! She said Santos. Why? Who the fuck is he?"

"Did you hear all that, Damien?" Mickey suddenly asked, and for the first time I noticed Damien awake and leaning against the doorframe to the bedroom.

"I did," he said coldly. "When did she mention him to you, Romany? Where were you?"

I shrugged, beginning to realize that Santos was not a guard after all. "We were at breakfast. The morning after that first meeting. Over a week ago." "Check the tapes," Mickey growled. "Do it now. I want it ready for when Alex wakes up."

"On it," Damien said, disappearing into my bedroom to get dressed.

As Damien came back out of my room, his eyes fell on me. They were full of pity and for some reason it made me feel so stupid and so... weak. So, I snapped, "Stop looking at me like that Damien! You're pissing me off!" "Okay," he said waspishly, his voice drenched in anger. "How would you like me to look at you then? Like a whore? Or a-"

I would have leapt to my feet to slap him if Mickey hadn't gotten to him first. One minute Damien was standing in front of me and the next Mickey had him slammed into the wall. "Do not ever let that word pass your mouth again when talking about her!" Mickey hissed. "She's upset! Let her be. Just go and check the tapes."

"Fine," Damien growled, shoving Mickey off of him. "I'm sorry," Damien hissed, closing his eyes. "I didn't mean it, Romany. I just-"

"Go!" Mickey shouted.

"Right," Damien said, throwing me one last apologetic glance before leaving the suite.

"Asshole," I grumbled, after he left.

Mickey sighed, taking a seat on the ottoman in front of me. He smiled sadly, clasping his hands together in front of himself. "He didn't mean any of that. He's just... feeling guilty is all. He blames himself."

"So," I inquired, my eyes heating with more tears. "He wasn't... in the meeting last night?"

Mickey's face hardened, the green fire of his gaze blazing with an unknown emotion. "He was not. Neither was I," Mickey admitted. "But I wish I had been."

I snickered. "Oh? Upset that you missed out?" I don't know why I said it, but I did and the look of resentment that Mickey suddenly wore on his face chilled me to the bone.

He sneered, "Take it easy, doll. Don't you dare lump me in with those lowlife fucks."

"I'm sorry," I apologized, clamping my eyes shut with embarrassment. "I'm just having a hard time remembering some of it and the parts that I do remember are... pretty bad. The worst part is not knowing *who* I was with last night. *Who!?* I can remember Alex and then some guy that I'd never even seen before, but that's it! And even *those* images don't feel real! If I weren't so... sore"-I gasped out and Mickey's eyes lit with new anger-"I would wonder if I didn't imagine the whole thing."

"Sore?" Mickey repeated through clenched teeth, just as the door to the suite opened and Tiny came in with a carafe of coffee and three mugs. "You're... still hurting?" He ground out, his fists and muscles clenching as his knee began to bounce in front of him.

"Y-yes," I answered him, accepting the mug of coffee from Tiny and taking a grateful sip.

Mickey jumped up, his muscles suddenly relaxing as he tossed a deeply dimpled smile my way. "I have some phone calls to make," he said suddenly, meeting Tiny's eyes in a silent question. "Downstairs," Tiny informed him. "With... the snake."

"Breakfast?" Mickey questioned him.

Tiny shook his head. "Not yet."

"I guess I should be getting dressed then," Mickey stated, glancing back at me. "We'll talk later, doll. I promise."

"Wait!" I snapped. "I want to go to breakfast! I want to look that bitch in her eyes." Mickey and Tiny are both shaking their heads. "What do you mean, no? That's what I want! And I think I've earned it!"

"But... Enzo is down there," Mickey chuckled humorlessly. "Are you ready to see him too? Are you sure you can handle that?"

My mind piqued, a familiar anger climbing into my stomach with the new memory that flashed behind my eyes. I flinched, my chest heaving as more details cascaded into me.

Details like a certain someone getting dressed and walking away from me. And then... that same someone turning around with a smug, satisfied smile as he buckled his ugly pants. *Enzo... that bastard. Alex was right.*

Ignoring the soreness in my limbs, I stood up and spat, "I'm going to breakfast."

A slow predatory grin spread across Mickey's face. "Whatever you want, doll. Lead the way."