Maid for the Mafia
The Little Cheating Whore

**MICKEY**

I almost can't believe she's here with me, on my *jet*, but she is. The first time I saw her, she was only eighteen, and I knew back then she was much too young for me. She was completely innocent. Untouched. If I had approached her during that time I would have ruined the woman she was turning out to be. So, I sat back and waited. Watching as she changed from a naive young girl into a traumatized young woman. Burning in secret as Professor Jensen attempted to stamp out her light. I would have stepped in *then* if I thought saving her would have helped, but I knew she had to learn about the man on her own. You see, because sometimes when you try to shield someone from evil, all you do is hinder them. They don't learn to fight for themselves when there is always someone there to rescue them and when the day comes that they have to go it alone, they're lost.

As it turns out, realistically, you can't *always* be there anyway. No matter how much you might want to be.

I learned that lesson long before I ever laid eyes on my little doll.

The music of her laughter snagged my attention as my jet took to the skies. The bottom of her robe has crept open, leaving me with a tantalizing view of her wonderfully tanned legs and I'm forced to adjust myself in my chair as I watch her. The seats on my jet are large and spacious, three to a side, six in total. She is across the aisle from me, staring out the window while she watches the ground get smaller and smaller. Something was telling me that she had never been on a plane before tonight. That knowledge alone kept me smiling.

I would have preferred it if she'd left her little friend at home, but I'll take what I can get. Besides, once I get them both to my house, I'll steal away with her. Take her to my *private* penthouse in the city where we can be alone. Where Alex *won't* be able to find her when he comes looking, because he doesn't even know it exists.

And Alex *will* be coming for her. I can feel it.

"It's so beautiful from up here," Romany commented. "It's amazing."

"You get used to it," I said, my eyes steady on her. "This place is nothing compared to what it's like flying into the Maldives. One of my favorite spots to vacation. Maybe you'll let me take you sometime."

"The Maldives!?" she exclaimed. "Are you kidding? I would love that."

"Then I will plan for it," I said easily.

She grinned, but then a shadow seemed to pass over her and her lips turned downward. "I don't think I'll be free for anything like that for a while though."

"Because of your contract?" I asked, doing my best to keep the irritation out of my voice. *Doesn't she realize that if she agreed to be mine she wouldn't have to worry about such things?* Maybe she doesn't. Maybe... I should tell her.

However, she shook her head in denial. "Not the contract," she stated. "Although I guess there's that too." Her eyes filled with tears as she studied me. "I won't be free to do anything like that until I find my cousin." "We've talked about this, doll. Are you going to make me say it again?" I replied, my voice uncharacteristically cold - at least as far as she was concerned.

Her jaw tightened and she forced back her tears. "I'm not going to make you say anything. In fact, you had better not. Because if you *do* say it again - and I mean *ever* again - it might be the very last time you say *anything* to me." Her threat was clear, although somewhat presumptuous, and I couldn't look away from the hypnotic teal of her eyes. It angered me that her attachment to me was so fleeting, but such was her power over me. I had no doubt that she meant what she said and although pride demanded that I test her resolve, I didn't wish to do so just yet.

I needed to have her first. At least once.

My doll didn't like hearing that Ruby was dead. She refused to be told that there simply was no hope. Even though it was clear to everyone else that Ruby was *gone.* An assassin like Ruby was a great prize in the hands of her enemy, and she would only have been kept alive for questioning.

In my line of work, I've learned there are only two types of prisoners. The kind that you can make talk and the kind that will never. It usually becomes clear pretty quickly which kind you have in front of you. From the very first interrogation, you know. Ninety-nine point nine percent of all prisoners are talkers, and how much information you decide to glean from them tends to determine how long they stay *before* they are killed. Because they are always killed. No matter what they are led to believe.

Ruby DuBois was different than most. She was that zero point one percent. Ruby's been gone for over two weeks and it would have been evident to Santos within the first twenty-four hours that Ruby was that second kind of prisoner. The rare kind. The kind you have to have killed immediately. Not only because she will never talk, but because the longer she is left alive the more you risk her escaping just to finish the job she was sent to do in the first place. Santos is not a stupid man. There's no way he kept Ruby alive more than one night.

"Fine," I snapped. "Perhaps I will send you postcards from the beach instead." **ALEX**

"Matthew Jensen," I said calmly, eyeing the man as Damien wheeled him into the center of the room.

I didn't know very much about the guy. Only what Damien had heard from Mickey. Supposedly, this was Romany's longtime boyfriend who had also been her teacher.

The man was mumbling incoherently through his gag, his body struggling against his binds even as Damien ripped the black garbage bag off of his head. Once his eyes were revealed to the light above him, he began blinking rapidly and crying like a child. *What the fuck did my angel ever see in you?*

The blond of his hair was a dirty red and caked with dried blood. His blue eyes, bloodshot and cupped with dark bruises on both sides. Mickey had certainly laid into the poor bastard when he picked him up. In fact, I could even smell dried urine on his clothes.

*Did Mickey piss on him too, or did Matthew piss on himself?* Probably both.

I stood and crouched in front of him, studying the man before reaching up to rip the tape off his mouth.

"Aaah!" he screamed before he fell straight into begging. "Please! I told Mister Scavo it wasn't my fault! It was Romany's! She's the one who decided to take the fall! I tried to stop her but she wouldn't listen! I can't fix what she's already done! I would if I could but I can't. The dean won't listen to me if I contradict her now!"

"Oh no?" I ask, meeting Damien's irritated gaze with an amused one of my own. "I'm sure he would if you said the right thing."

Matthew shook his head. "No. He won't. It's been too long now, it would make him look like a fool and he won't accept anything I say."

"So then you go above him," I suggest, standing back to select a hunting knife from my table. "And you tell whoever controls *your* dean whatever you need to in order to clear Romany's name."

Matthew flinches. "You mean tell the chancellor? I doubt I will be believed. Romany did an excellent job of playing the manipulator. He's only going to think she is at it again." Then he growls, looking around the room as if searching for her. "Which it seems she just might be. I don't what she's done for you guys to get you to come after me, but she's obviously been *very* busy."

I can't help but laugh at that. Matthew's correct, Romany has definitely been pulling a few strings, but that's not going to save him. "I'm going to be honest with you, Mister Jensen. I don't really know who you are or what kind of relationship you had with my angel but-"

"Your angel?! What the fuck? She's fucking you, isn't she?" Matthew's anger is pulsing in his temple when he interrupts me. "The little cheating whore. How long have you been fucking her? Huh? How long?" *The little cheating whore...*

"You interrupted me," I said quietly. "And it seems as though you're a little confused. You see, *you* are the guy tied to the wheelchair, soaked in his own urine and I am the guy standing just far enough away from you, so that I don't retch. If anyone is going to be asking questions, it's going to be me. Not that I'm interested in hearing any more of your lies. I could definitely do without those. But you see Matthew... today is your lucky day, because I *am not* the one who sought to punish you. I didn't have you kidnapped or thrown into the cells. But... I *do* have the power to set you free."

Damien's eyes narrowed at me and he shook his head. I glared back at him, daring him to contradict me.

"What would I need to do?" Matthew whimpered, suddenly full of hope.

I reached across the table to snag a three leaf notebook and a pen. "This is for your confession. I am going to roll your toward the table and unbind one wrist. You will then have exactly ten minutes to confess every little thing you've ever done to Miss Romany in this notebook. When you are finished, you will sign and date it. If I am satisfied that you haven't left anything out - I will have you deposited back at home within the hour with all ten fingers and all ten toes." "O-okay. But you should know. Romany and I were in love. Everything I ever did - I did with that in mind," he insisted contemptuously.

"I don't give a fuck, Matthew. Who or what you loved is irrelevant. You are a college professor that likes to fuck his students and I am warning you, if you leave *anything* out of your confession, you will lose your first finger and be made to rewrite it. This will happen over and over again, until I am satisfied with your manuscript." I smiled, "Are you ready?"

A puddle appeared beneath Matthew as he stared at my knife. "Yes."

*For the love of God. Where's my little maid when I need her?*