The Maid: Mafia Romance (Series)

Today was another debt collection day. The five of us were now sitting in the black van, discussing why the boss almost lost his head yesterday.

Apparently, it was all about some old man who refused to pay his debt. Said man was a millionaire, as Finnie told me. Squeezing blood, in mafia terms, meant money.

See, I’m getting smart, learning all about the life of the mafia.

So, it was very hard to get money from him because: A) he was a well-established man, B) he worked for the government, and C) he was a stingy bastard. So, we had to come up with a plan. My brilliant mind was already swarming with ideas. And one point filtered past my lips.Content is property of NôvelDrama.Org.

“I say we stalk him.” I gave myself an imaginary pat on my head for my splendid suggestion. “What do you guys think?”

“I think you’ll end up being the maid in jail.” Jonny supplied.

“But aren’t we already illegal businessmen?” I clarified.

“Jenny, we are legit businessmen. Boss doesn’t like to think of us doing illegal work,” Finnie responded.

“So, what we’re doing here is legit stuff-threatening people with turning them into breakfast just to get some cash? Is that what you guys are telling me?” I looked at all four, straight in their faces.

Bobby had the decency to flush. “It’s part of our job to act tough. We have to protect the boss.”

“Boss?” I frowned. “What has he to do with any of this? Hey, that reminds me. How did he get into the mafia? Do you just happen to be born into it? Or did something happen to him and he became-”

“Shut it, Jenny!” Heath cut me off. “Don’t talk about the boss’ history. He doesn’t like anyone digging into his past. So, if you want to stay here peacefully, don’t ask about it.”

“Chill. Fine. I don’t care.” I lifted my hand in surrender.

And that was the end of our discussion. Everyone just nodded when I mentioned the stalking method again. Bobby then pushed on the pedal and drove into the city, Queens to be exact.

I’d never been to this part of town before. I was a Brooklyn girl through and through. But the buildings in Queens looked fantastic. Until I realized we’d circled that same flashy building three times.

“Hey, ah, Bobby, are we lost?” I tapped his shoulder to grab his attention. “We seem to be going around the same block.”

“Nope. We’re not lost. The building is right over there.” Finnie pointed to the tall, grey tower.

“Then how many more times are we going to swirl around the place?” I poked my head between the front seats, looking at Bobby making yet another round.

“Boss said to only park at a dollar car park. I’m trying to find one,” he answered with a nod. Like that would save the fuel money.

“Won’t circling the place five times cost more than finding a dollar car park? Think of all the gas we’re wasting. How’s that going to benefit us in the long run?”

“Jenny has a point.” Jonny agreed.

“Yeah, why didn’t I think of that?” Bobby scratched his head.

He immediately found a car park. It was a two-dollar space. What was the fuss before? I couldn’t work out what these guys’ brains were made of. Anyway, we swiftly got out of the car and entered the high-rise apartment.

We acted like spies. We divided our group into pairs. I paired up with Bobby, Jonny with Finnie, and Heath… Well, he was Bigfoot. He didn’t need to pair up with anyone.

Bobby and I were stationed at the main foyer of the flashy apartment. Heath was in the black van, scanning personal documents about Mr. Hermit. Jonny and Finnie hung out near his apartment door.

At precisely fourteen-hundred hours, we spotted Mr. Hermit walking out of his apartment. I got this message from Finnie. And just five minutes after that, Bobby and I saw the elevator door open. Out walked Mr. Hermit, with a cane, followed by two beautiful female assistants glued to his sides, one blonde wearing a short skirt, and one redhead wearing a dress with a neckline so low I almost thought her melons were going to squeeze out the top.

We followed Mr. Hermit at a sensible pace until he got into his limousine. Now, all four of us were sprinting to the van, shoving ourselves into it. And before butts met seats, the van drove off at a dangerous speed.

“Follow that limo, Heath. Follow it,” I shouted, adrenaline running high, eager to get to the bottom of this ridiculous raid.

I knew Giovanni would be upset if he didn’t get his money back. I’d do whatever in my power to help.

Our vehicle followed the limo until it screeched to a stop, right in front of a highly prized establishment.

I saw Mr. Hermit walk into that building with the two girls by his sides. I glanced up at the polished signboard. “Welcome to the Gentleman’s Club.”

“Now what are we going to do?” Bobby asked, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Boss said we need to get the money from him today. But we can’t go in there. Everyone will know us.”

“What do you mean, Bobby?”

“Boss owns that club. We can’t go in there because we look more like bodyguards and gangsters. Boss said we’ll scare all the customers away.”

Ping! That was the sound of an idea popping in my head. I smiled slyly at the guys. “Don’t worry, guys. I’ve got a plan. But first, how much money do you have? Are you willing to invest in me?”