Page 53 of Mafia And Maid

“Do you not like it? We can order something else?”

“No,” she rushes, shaking her head, “It’s fine. Really.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” She lifts a single piece of pasta to her mouth as if to show me.

I nod slowly, taking another gulp of my beer.

This evening was meant to fix my problem, not make it worse. And yet, spending this time with her has made me even more intrigued and beguiled by this gorgeous woman.

“So, how are you adjusting?” I broach, hoping to find something, anything, to talk about. “At the estate. I know the first few days were rough.”

“It’s better. I’d like to think I’m doing well.”

“More than well. You’re doing fantastic, if my opinion counts.”

That’s all it takes for Rosa to relax a little in her chair. And from there, the conversation flows to other mundane topics. The weather and things that make no fucking sense for small talk, but I don’t care because she’s talking. I even manage a few soft chuckles of laughter as I start to loosen up.

With anyone else, I’d have eaten and walked away by now. But something about Rosa keeps me rooted in place. Enjoying it all, soaking up the atmosphere and the company of the person opposite me.

It doesn’t feel like it does with other women—with them, it feels tedious and fake. It’s like she’s looking atme—and not the brutal man everyone believes me to be, despite the truth in the matter. The feeling is unsettling and arousing all at once.

“Would you like a box, miss?” the server asks when she comes to clear the table and notices Rosa’s plate.

“No, that’s okay,” Rosa says, finishing her glass of water. Her plate has hardly been touched. My gaze narrows. A question burns my lips, but I’ve just started to break through her hard exterior. I’ve slowly made progress, and I can’t risk her clamming up now.

The silence carried home only makes the situation worse. My hands tighten around the steering wheel.

Something is wrong, and I know it’s me.

I’ve done something to upset her. To offend her. Rosa slides from my SUV, and my eyes are fixed on her as she makes her way toward the door that connects to the mansion.

The garage is quiet and dark, but I clock both Alessio and Marco have gone out as their cars are missing.

Quietly, I walk behind Rosa as she shrugs off my jacket and returns it to me. “Thank you. Tonight was lovely.”

Her words don’t match the expression on her face. The sound is hollow and fake. A platitude meant to appease me. It’s not how Rosa acts.

Anger boils through me, and I can’t help how my hand slams into the doorframe, cutting her from the doorway and any escape.

I toss the jacket over my shoulder and lean toward her. “What’s wrong?”

“What?”

“What’s wrong? Was the food bad? Did you want something else?”

“No. It was lovely. Really.”

“Then what? You’ve been fiddling with your watch strap and hands since we sat down at that table. You hardly touched your food. Are you sick? Do you need time off?”

She’s cowering beneath me. Trembling like a leaf. I should back off, give her space, but fuck that. I want answers.

“You can tell me, Rosa.” I breathe, unable to stop myself from tucking the falling strand of hair behind her ear.

Her gaze jerks to mine, and a million emotions swim in them. But none that I can pick out and identify. Everything about this woman is a mystery to me.

She murmurs something I don’t quite catch.

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