Maid for the Mafia
The Stranger

**ROMANY**

*Alex... you fucking prick.*

"What's the matter? At a loss for words?" He smirks and I glower at him. "On second thought, maybe you shouldn't have any honey and lemon. It's kind of like that you can't talk back for once." *Fuck you, Alex.*

I flip him off and he snatches my finger in his hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. "I don't think so, angel. You'll wear yourself out. Give yourself a few days to recuperate. Between Tiny and Mickey - and now - me and Damien"-he grimaces- "you really ought to give that pussy a rest. She needs her beauty sleep."

My jaw drops so suddenly I'm surprised when it doesn't hit the ground. Anger fires to an immediate boil inside me and I'm posed to slap Alex in his stupidly handsome face, but he chooses that opportune moment to disappear toward my room, fast as lightning.

*Yeah. You better run. Bastard.*

When he disappears into my suite, it takes me all of two seconds to decide to eavesdrop on them. Tip-toeing back down the hallway like an idiot doesn't seem to make much sense, but I do it anyway, dropping my armful of clothes on the floor near the stairs so I can keep my hands free. By the time I make it to the door and precariously place my hand on the knob my brain is in overdrive and all kinds of little scenarios are floating around in my mind. *Maybe I shouldn't.*

*I mean, who really cares what happens to that jerk anyway?*

*Not me, that's for sure!*

So why am I suddenly so bloodthirsty? Why does the thought of watching that big handsy fuck off bleed in the rug make me delirious with satisfaction? I've never been a vengeful type of girl before. How did this happen? *Could it have been Mickey?*

Could *he* be the one that turned me on to this perverse desire to see the assholes that took advantage of me meet their end? I know he's the one that started the wheels spinning, but I can't really put it all on him. Each of my sexy little playmates have all played a part. Tiny and Mickey practically held a pissing contest in the restaurant to decide who got to deal with Romano and I'd be lying if I said I didn't find their covert rivalry insanely hot. And when Damien told me he *and* Alex took care of Enzo this morning, for the next ten minutes I was contemplating sexual favors for each of them.

*Oh my God! What have I become?*

With that last thought in mind I gently ease my hand off the door, grab my discarded wardrobe and roadrun my ass all the way to Damien's suite. The moment I step inside, I'm once again charmed by the personal touches he has everywhere. I *like* seeing all the different little traces of his life. He has medals for boxing, for marksmanship... for *CHESS!!!* Trophies for Krav Maga, Ninjutsu, Vale Tudo - whatever the *fuck* that is - and *swimming*. *Swimming?* Heh. Go figure.

The fact is, my Dreamboat is a badass and one day I'd like to get hard from watching him in action. And then? I'll fuck him silly right there next to his kill.

Shaking the image of a sweaty, half naked Damien beating Antony's ass from my mind, I get comfy on the couch and text Simone about dinner. Her response is immediate and just cheerful enough for me to finally decide what to wear. With a devilish glint in my eye, I set off down the hallway in search of Damien's bedroom. Knowing the layout of his suite matches Alex's, I set off down a similar hallway expecting to find Damien's bedroom in a somewhat identical location, but when I open the door I'm met with what looks like a private dojo. There are Japanese scrolls lining the walls, shelves loaded with different boxing gloves, a couple of punching bags in one corner, a glass display case filled with different combat weapons in another...

No wonder his body is so... honed. He's a regular fanatic.

Setting off in an alternative direction, I finally find his bedroom at the end of the long hall and step inside giddily. The decor in his room is definitely boasting some Japanese influence. Not to mention that the space is twice the size of Alex's. *How odd. I wonder why that is...*

Paper lanterns glow with a soft yellow light, hanging from the ceiling three to a corner and his king sized bed is set up on a three and a half foot wooden dais. Steps lead up each side of it, leaving about a foot and a half of space around the perimeter of the bed. It's a four poster, like Alex's, but with red gossamer curtains that hang all around it. I find myself mesmerized for a moment as I picture Damien sleeping there every night. Reminding myself that Simone will be arriving any second with our dinner, I tear my eyes away and head for his large walk-in closet. It doesn't take long to find what I'm looking for and when I do, I get dressed and then admire myself in his full length mirror.

My deeply tanned legs are scandalously exposed. Looking dark and tempting before they disappear beneath a pair of his white jockey shorts that I'm able to cinch at the waist by using the elastic. After I done one of his rattiest, but decidedly *softest*, crew neck shirts, I tie it at the waist so it doesn't billow around me like a cape and I bounce back down the hallway just in time to hear a soft knock at the door. Thinking it's Simone, I simply flip the deadbolt and swing it wide open. I forget at that moment that I can't use my voice when the person at the door is nobody I've ever seen in my life and my initial reaction is to say, "Who the fuck are you?"

Sadly, the sweet looking female in the hall *does not* understand my chopped up version of the phrase. To be fair, it sounded more like *'Huthafu-ker* than *Who the fuck are you'* and I can't really fault her for looking a little lost. *Fuck. All I can do is stare at her. That's it. That's all.*

Unfortunately, she seems to like that game, so that is literally all we do for the next three minutes and neither of us seems inclined to smile.

*Is the bitch lost?*

When I hear the sound of the dreaded dinner cart struggling up the carpeted hallway, I finally let myself relax. *Thank God! Simone!* I already gave Simone a rundown on what happened with Antony when I texted about dinner. She can provide the voice and I can supply the **fuck offs'.*

As the dinner cart drags to a stop in front of the open doorway between me and the girl - whoever she is - Simone flinches, apparently noticing her for the first time.

"Hello Miss," Simone greets her, throwing me a slightly inquisitive look. Eyeing the fancy little black dress the *stranger* is wearing, Simone clears her throat and says, "This floor is usually off limits to guests. It is for employee housing only and *you* don't appear to be one of the maids. So... is there something I can help you with?"

The stranger shifts her cocoa colored eyes back and forth from me to Simone almost furiously. "Um, yes. My name is Dana Rojas. I wasn't supposed to arrive until tomorrow, but I was so excited, I decided not to wait. I hoped to surprise him when I got here but..."

Eyebrows raised questioningly, Simone's smile falters. "Him?"

Dana snorts with laughter (a most inharmonious sound might I add) and then palms her forehead (a little too gently for my liking) and says, "Oh, sorry! Duh. Him... um... Damien." Her eyes flicker in my direction and I hope to God that I look as angry as I feel. "I *thought* this was *his* suite, but I've only been here once so I probably got the rooms mixed up." Dana tosses her flat brown hair over one shoulder haughtily. "Do you know where I can find him? Like I said, I want it to be a surprise."

*Oh yeah? Well congrats, bitch.*

*Consider this mission complete.*