Maid for the Mafia
Like a Ballad

**ROMANY**

*I can't believe this!*

*Why? Why would Mickey do this to me? Because I fucked Alex? Is that why?*

Romano moaned, the sound of it triggering a memory of him shoving his dick in my face while he snarled at me to stop spitting it out. *God I hate the way he sounds. He sickens me. He sounds like a bull when he cums and the memory of it alone is enough for me to lose my appetite.*

My lips curled upward in repugnance as his hands explored my curves shamelessly, groping me in full view of the entire restaurant while I sat there like a gullible whore in an expensive dress.

"Oh yeah," Romano whispered. "You're gonna like what I've got in store for you tonight sweetheart. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since the last time we kissed." *Barf. Thank God I haven't eaten yet.*

When his lips somehow found their way down to my throat I'd finally had enough. Glaring across the table at Mickey, I was met with his cold, calculating. green gaze. My eyes burned with tears and I willed them back as best I could, I *refused* to give these pricks the satisfaction of my despair. But even still, one lonely drop was able to free itself before I could stop it. I heard Tiny's sharp intake of breath as he scooted his chair forward and under the table, then I felt him pinch my knee and kick me under the table. My glanced his way, noting the anger is his normally dark and impenetrable eyes. He was sneering at Romano openly, but the bastard was still sucking on my neck and didn't notice. Then, he lowered his eyes to mine and winked, while scratching his jaw with his fingers in the shape of a gun.

*What the fuck? Am I seeing things? Is he trying to tell me something?*

Almost like he heard my thoughts, he nodded almost imperceptibly and winked *again. "Hey Mister Romano," Tiny said quietly. "With all due respect, I think all of that is a little bit R-rated for the dinner table, don't you?" Romano's dry lips froze on my flesh, the feel of them making my skin crawl. "Prick," he whispered in my ear as if he and I shared a secret. "You're right, Tiny. How rude of me. Somebody's jealous," Romano replied coldly, then squeezed my breasts painfully, before letting me go. "Come on up sweetheart. I'll be ready and waiting for you."

Staring at Tiny with narrowed eyes, I decided to test my theory on what was going on by getting into character. I spoke in the sweetest, fakest, Betty Boop voice I could manage and said, "Perfect. Give me a few minutes, I'm waiting on my dessert. I hope you'll let me feed you the way that *you* once fed *me*." *Why the fuck did I add that? Bleh! Yuck.*

Romano growled, biting his lip anxiously and Mickey's eyes sparkled with pride from across the table. Romano was so excited, he didn't even notice Tiny right next to him, laughing behind his hand.

"Good girl," Romano said before turning toward Mickey. "Your respect has been noted and is appreciated, Scavo."

Mickey nodded and then the three of us simply sat there frozen, staring after him as he walked toward the elevators. A full five minutes went by before the silence was broken by our waiter distinctly clearing his throat.

We all looked at the man, but he only looked at Mickey when he said, "It has been arranged, Mister Scavo Sir, the limo waits outside, and your dinner has already been delivered to the penthouse."

"Perfect," Mickey replied. "Thank you Gustaf. All your extra help will be reflected in your paycheck at the end of the week. That will be all."

*Wait a minute... what the fuck? Why is Mickey acting like he pays that man's salary?*

Tiny asked, "Did that toad send his shields home too? No way can he be that stupid!" He glanced around, his eyes searching. "It kind of looks like he did."

"They didn't leave," Mickey explained, standing up, "One of them *might* have found a casino voucher at the dinner table. Worth about ten grand. Last time I saw them, they were headed for the Rooftop Casino."

Tiny nodded in understanding, then stood up from the table as well. I stared at them both expectantly, wondering if either of them was going to tell me what was going on.

His amused green eyes met mine, then he reached down with both hands to haul me up against his body. Closing his arms around me, he anchored me to the hard, defined muscles of his chest before he whispered in my ear. "I saw that look on your face. I *know* what you were thinking about me, doll." His body shuddered as he pressed his lips against my ear in a kiss.

*Doll. There's that name again.*

*Bella Bambola... is the name of this place...*

*This place... that he controls that paychecks for...*

"I can't *believe* you actually thought that *I* would do something like that to you," Mickey whispered, scolding me quietly. "If you only knew how much it hurt to see you looking at me that way. Fuck. You are probably the only person in this entire world that... that..." he trailed off, releasing me to stare down into my eyes.

Mickey's eyes were shrouded in hurt and I didn't think there was anything I could say to make it better. "Try to understand... This is all very new to me. I'm not used to dealing with men like *Alex* and... *that Pig* upstairs." Then I smiled and said honestly, "And it didn't help that *you* have the *very* best poker face that I have *ever* seen."

He smirked, but his eyes remained somewhat sad. He glanced at Tiny warily, before turning back ro me. "You and Tiny are to head to my penthouse, our dinner is already waiting. I'll be along shortly."

"W-what?" I snapped, watching him as he checked the time on his phone and turned toward the elevators. "Wait a minute! Mickey! Where are you going? I want you to come with us."

*Why is he heading for the elevators? Is he heading upstairs? To Paul Romano???*

"I already told you, doll. I'll be there with you shortly," he answered me, refusing to meet my eyes. "I have some business to attend to first. Something that I *absolutely* must do. Something that I *will not* miss."

Finally he looked at me and I saw the truth there in his eyes. He was going to kill Paul Romano. *That's* why he wanted me to play nice.

*I can't believe I thought that he was trying to sell me to Paul the whole time... he was only planning to kill the bastard.*

I shook my head, about to plead with him, to *beg* him to let it go. Because something was telling me *this act* he was about to commit was not going to just roll off the shoulders of whatever he and Alex had going on. This act... was going to put him in danger and I didn't want that.

Mickey nodded in Tiny's direction, "Keep her calm," he said. "And go. Now."

"Wait a minute!" I protested, watching helplessly as he ignored me and stalked toward the fire exit. *He's taking the stairs? Jesus. This is like a bad movie.*

"You have to stop him, Tiny," I hissed.

But Tiny shook his head, no. "Can't do that, Romany. I offered to do it myself, but he *wants* to. He *aches* to. You don't understand yet, but one day you will. Now come on. I'm starving." Taking my hand, he fairly dragged me out of the restaurant.

My mind wandered back to thirty minutes ago, when Mickey had his fingers between my legs. When he was telling me that story about the owner of Bella Bambola. His words, spoken so quietly, were like a ballad... or... like a confession. *"...It means," Beautiful Doll. From what I understand, the owner named it after a woman he spied on the street one day. And although they had never met. She was so beautiful, and so doll-like... so innocent, that he was afraid he'd break her if he tried to get close. So, instead, he began to obsess over her..."*

I have to hear the rest of that story. I have to.

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