Page 145 of Mafia And Maid

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I tug at the sleeve of my dress shirt, leaning against the SUV outside the Davis mansion where Rosa’s family resides. But it’s a useless gesture to make myself presentable, not that it matters.

It hasn’t changed in the five years since I last saw it. The semi-circular drive leads to sprawling grounds with manicured grass and a Victorian era mansion. Everything about it is grandiose and meticulously kept—yet ice cold and unwelcoming.

We’re here so that Rosa can see her family. The black dress she wears hugs every inch of her body. It’s modest and elegant, the neckline cut in a square line, exposing the beautiful freckles of her skin that have come out since she started spending more time in the backyard with Ethan and me. Her blond locks are glossy and full as they shine where they’re caught by the weak rays of sun.

She smiles softly down at Ethan. “Okay, honey, we’re here now. Let’s go in and see Grandma and Aunt Reagan.”

Ethan’s round eyes look at me, and I wink, extending my hand to him. He grasps it tightly and nestles into my leg.

I look to Rosa. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me, baby.”

Steeling herself, Rosa takes a deep breath and lifts her chin. Emotions shutter over her face before she clears them away.

I lace her fingers with mine as we walk up the stone steps.

She stops in front of the grand door. I bring our joined hands to my lips. But the small smile on her face slips off as soon as an elderly man opens the door.

He wordlessly escorts us in. The foyer is grand and dotted with elaborate floral bundles. Men and women adorned in black and dark grays, their tailored suits and Chanel dresses screaming their wealth, fill the space. They’ve obviously all come to pay their respects having heard the news.

“Rosa?” We hear her name called, and Rosa freezes beside me.

The hand that grips mine tightens before she plasters on that fake smile. I hate it. I hate when she uses it, but I know when to keep my mouth shut. Now is not the time. And I know from what she’s said that seeing her family again is going to be difficult for her.

A woman bursts into sobs as she embraces Rosa. “I…”

“I know,” Rosa murmurs, dropping my hand to wrap her arms around her mother.

They linger for a moment before breaking apart, and the woman’s gaze drops to Ethan, although she doesn’t bother to greet her grandson. She dabs at her eyes while her gaze skims over Rosa quickly. A flicker of something—judgment, perhaps—flittering over her before her sharp eyes land on me.

I stand at my full height, chin lifted. I have nothing to prove to any of these people.

And yet I want to.

I want to prove to the world that I belong here for Rosa’s sake.

“You…” Her mother mutters at me, shaking her head, dismissing whatever she was about to say. Turning on her heel, she beckons onward. “Rosa, you and Ethan can follow me. Yourfriendcan mingle.”

My jaw ticks at the slight snub. Rosa nods quietly, her mouth set in a firm line.

It shouldn’t dredge up that taunt in the back of my head—but it does. It’s like the last few months haven’t mattered, and I’m back sitting in the church pew watching the world slip through my fingers.

Ethan’s hand tightens on mine, and I can feel him cling to my leg all the more.

Anger, red hot and boiling, fills my veins, and the room full of high-society sneers and whispers only makes it worse. Something roars to life in my chest.

Protect him.

Protect Rosa.

From what I’m not sure, but I’m almost certain it’s from the people that surround us.

I kneel, not caring that my pants touch the ground and the fabric is dirtied.

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