Maid for the Mafia
A little breakfast cocktail...

**ROMANY**

When Tiny and Mickey left my suite for a quick shower and a change of clothes, I allowed myself to weaken, but just a little. The carafe of coffee that Tiny left for me was now empty and with the new surge of caffeine firing in my blood, more and more of what happened last night found its way into my head.

"Oh my God!!!" I screamed into the throw pillow on my sofa.

I was angry, I was upset, I was... *sore!* But I didn't like them looking at me like I was some... victim. Because I've been the victim before! I *was* the girl that the hot college professor took advantage of and manipulated! I *was* that young innocent *fool* who was sexually assaulted and then groomed into believing that what happened to her was a natural thing, a *normal* thing. I promised myself on the day that Matthew showed his true colors, that I *would never* be that girl again. That no matter *what* became of me, or *who* tried to use me, I wouldn't leave myself vulnerable... I wouldn't become their prey. This time, I'm not going to just fade away like some dark secret pushed into a skeleton closet. That bastard Enzo is going to get *all the disrespect* I can give him and I don't mean to miss even one opportunity to show him how much he disgusts me.

The memory of how unbelievably hot I was last night, how *thirsty* I was - is enough to cause my skin to flush red. There were marks on my thighs and my breasts. My hips had two sets of handprint bruises pointed in different directions. There were hickeys on the backs of my shoulders and a few down my spine. Jumping into the shower with an angry yell, I allowed the cold spray to pound down on me with the pressure on full blast. I stayed there, cleansing myself under the ice cold of the torrential rain until I was gasping for breath and my skin had completely cooled.

Selecting a modest, yet seductive burgundy jumpsuit from my new and improved closet, I got dressed, towel dried my hair, slipped on a pair of elegant gold sandals and was ready by the time I heard Mickey step back into my suite. "Doll," he began warily, his eyes glued to mine as I approached. "Are you absolutely sure you can handle this? Because I'm warning you right now-"

"Warning me?" I snapped shrilly. *Warning me? Is he for real?!* Mickey's intense green eyes narrowed at my interruption. "If you think for one minute that any threat you make will keep me from treating that pig *exactly like* the disgusting, repulsive, *desperate* mongrel that he is??? Then *I'm* warning *you*"-I poked him, leaving my fingernail burrowed in his chest as I finished-" there is *nothing* beyond death that will keep me from it!"

I was panting with anger so I steadied myself, taking a few deep breaths so I didn't have to hop back into the cold shower again before I left the room. Mickey's eyes brightened and a faint smile played over his lips as he reached up and gently clasped the finger that was prodding his chest. Without breaking eye contact, he raised it up to his mouth and kissed it gingerly before his eyes fluttered to my lips and he released my hand.

"What I was trying to say," Mickey breathed, stepping closer to me and bathing me in the deliciously fresh scent of his aftershave. "Was that if I see even one tear leave your beautiful eyes, or even a slight droop in your elegant shoulders?" He lifted my chin, stroking his thumb back and forth under the line of my jaw. "If for even one minute it starts to look like you're losing control of your emotions? Or... if he says something - *anything* - that puts out that fire in your eyes, then I suggest that you close them... because you won't want to see what it does to me." I shivered, the heat of his jewel-like gaze promising violence. "You won't want to see what *I* do to *him*."

I swallowed a gasp, my lashes fluttering low as my skin tingled. "You don't know that," I admitted. "That might be exactly what I want to see."

He dimpled, stepping back and opening the door for me. "After you doll."

When we stepped into the long hallway, the chatter among the servants faded. Every set of eyes seemed to flare in surprise.*Hmm. Guess they didn't expect to see me this morning. I wonder why...?* As we approached the open archway leading into the dining room, I noticed two things that caused an immediate break in my steps. One - *Stella* was sitting in Alex's seat! *The fucking nerve of that harpy? Who does she think she is? Me?* And two - Tiny was seated to Enzo's right and the pair of them were laughing it up about *God* knew what. I froze. *Tiny, you little fucking traitor.*

I felt Mickey's strong hands on my shoulders as his head dipped in next to my ear from behind me. He whispered, "Things are not always what they seem, doll."

I sighed, snapping my head in his direction so quickly that our lips met in a chaste kiss. His head jerked backward just barely, his eyes widening in surprise.

Licking my lips, I flashed him a full tooth 'let's play' smile, then I leaned a little further in his direction and kissed him again. This time I came away with his lower lip between both of mine. "I understand," I whispered, trying not to laugh at the electrified expression on his face.

Then, I turned back around, plastered my best *'Romany is only here for the food'* look on my face and stepped into the snake pit. Keeping my eyes neutral, I went straight for Stella's regular seat, putting myself on her immediate left and directly across from Enzo. Needless to say, all laughter in the room died a swift and sudden death the moment my ass hit the plush velvet of the chair. To Mickey's credit, he appeared as calm as ever, seating himself on my left with a troublemaking smirk on his face.

I smiled at Mickey and whispered, "Can I get a little Vodka in my orange juice this morning?"

He nodded, stepping toward the liquor cabinet in the corner to retrieve my heart's desire.

Watching Enzo and Stella indirectly, through only half glimpses of my side vision, I noticed the two seemed to be having completely different reactions to my unexpected presence. Enzo, ever the criminal, looked amused and maybe even a little intrigued. But Stella - the one person I would have thought might be smiling - seemed nervous.

*Ohhhh... don't get nervous yet, bitch. Just you wait...*

Watching patiently as Mickey poured an ounce of Grey Goose into my half-full glass of O.J. "More," I commanded and he dropped another. "More," I said again, lifting my eyes to his and planting an innocent, girlish smile on my lips. He cocked an eyebrow and then proceeded to add two more ounces, before returning the bottle and taking his seat.

I stirred my juice, then drank greedily, swallowing every drop before swirling my tongue in a wide arc around my lips. I said, "Nothing like a little breakfast cocktail." Finally, I allowed my eyes to meet the devil's across the table. "It's so much better when *you know* what's inside you, don't you think?"