Chapter 4

• Mena
• Ever since that strange phone-call, nothing had been the same.
• How could I feel at ease without knowing whether my crazy ex had finally found me?
• Strangely enough, cleaning at the Fanucci mansion actually put my mind at ease. It was the one place I knew where he couldn't get to me.
• True, the Fanuccis were hardly saints themselves, but within these grand walls, I felt safer than in that tiny apartment. Natalie was my main concern, but it offered me some relief knowing she was either safely at school or with Mrs. Rodriquez.
• "Hey, you!" A rude voice snapped me from my thoughts.
• Quickly, I turned around and found myself locking eyes with Alessio Fanucci. Shocked, I drifted my eyes to the floor.
• I hadn't forgotten his intense gaze from the day before, when he himself had managed to spill his champagne on the table, and I had to apologize for it.
• "You," he continued, "They didn't clean my room. I need you to do it."
• Me?
• "Yes, Sir," I murmured, keeping my volume at a low. I wasn't trying to test him.
• It felt like a devil's curse, knowing that from all the maids walking the mansion, he just had to come and pick me for the unfortunate task.
• "Well, don't just stand there. Let's go," he commanded.
• Hastily, I gathered my cleaning supplies, then I followed him to his room in complete silence. Once we reached his room, he stepped aside to let me enter.
• I had hoped for him to leave, but he followed right after me.
• I didn't know what to think, staring at the room bigger than my apartment. My eyes were immediately blinded by the expensive furniture and the golden afternoon light.
• Unlike my expectations, the room seemed clean, spotless even, making me wonder what exactly I was supposed to be cleaning.
• Regardless, I did what was asked and began to sweep the marble floors.
• My encounters with the Fanuccis were already more than I had wished for. Even though I was working at the mansion, I had imagined a role where I'd remain mostly invisible, barely seen or even acknowledged.
• Yet, here I was, under the intimidating surveillance of Alessio Fanucci, his eyes following my every move as he leaned against his desk with folded arms as if I wasn't nervous enough already.
• "So, where are you from?" he suddenly asked, breaking the tense silence.
• "Dallas, Texas," I replied, instantly regretting revealing any personal detail. There was no reason why I should be talking to him, the heir of the Fanucci family. There was also no reason why he should he talking to me, a simple maid.
• Alessio pushed for more answers. "Why are you here?"
• "Work." This time I kept my answer short.
• "Work," he repeated, chuckling. "And how did you end up working for our family."
• My anxiety grew with each question as I did not know what he was getting at. "I was looking for a job around the city," I responded, "Someone recommended this place."
• "Hmm," he hummed in response, then the room fell into silence once again.
• Soon after, I could hear his footsteps drawing closer until they came to a stop right in front of me. My heart hammered against my chest as I was trying to hide my nerves.
• What did he want from me?
• Why was he so close to me?
• "Look at me," he demanded.
• Seeing no way out, I slowly lifted my gaze to meet his. Alessio was tall, so tall that he towered over me. His handsome features were a sharp contrast to the ruthless persona he portrayed. It was saddening, seeing such a face wasted on a monster.
• How many lives would that family have ruined? How many people would they have killed?
• How many people would he have killed?
• "Are you married, children?" Alessio asked, flustering me with his random question.
• "No!" For the first time my voice was loud and clear. The denial came instantly, but it was more so shock than anything else.
• I had no idea why he would ask that question, but one thing was sure, and that was that Natalie was not a topic to discuss. Not with anyone.
• When a low chuckle released from his lips, I figured teasing the maids must've been his thing, and there was most likely nothing behind it.
• Using their power over the maids and asking them ridiculous questions seemed about right for the Fanucci brothers.
• "How old are you?"
• "I'm twenty-four years old, Sir."
• Alessio rolled back his shoulders. "I know enough. You can go now."
• Enough? Enough for what? The uncertainty made me lose my mind, but I dared not question him.
• "Are you sure, Sir—"
• "Go," Alessio cut me off, waving his hand dismissively with a nonchalant look spreading across his face.
• I nodded, gathering my belongings. Then I exited the room and closed the door before leaning against the wall.
• Trying to control my breathing, I closed my eyes. I had survived my first major encounter with Alessio Fanucci and he hadn't killed me yet.
• So far so great.
• In fear of him opening the door again, I sped down the stairs, back to the assigned room I was supposed to be cleaning.
• "Are you okay?" Liza walked in. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
• Over the past days we had become closer, and she told me all the ins and outs about the family and their expectations.
• She was nosy, but kind and helpful.
• "I'm good." I stood up straight, putting on a wide smile. "Never been better,"
• "Good." Liza said, not entirely convinced. "Because this is going to be a long few days."
• I raised my brow. "How come."
• "Haven't you received the e-mail?"
• "No?"
• "Domenico Fanucci has organized an engagement party for his son Alessio, and Maxine Baldini."
• "Really? Nice of him!" I pretended to care. Truth to be told, I had seen his fiancee and the apple didn't fall far from the tree. The two were made for one another.
• "Yes," Liza confirmed. "We have a lot of cleaning to do today, and two days from now we'll be blessed enough to serve the guests at the party."
• "Ah, what a blessing indeed." I replied, struggling to keep my emotions in check.
• "Don't be like that," Liza rolled her eyes, slamming her arm around my shoulder. "The Fanuccus always triple the pay for special occasions."
• "That's great!" I beamed, my smile replacing the earlier, forced one.
• That meant I could finally afford to buy Naty that new drawing set she had been wanting for so long.
• But just as quickly, I realized I would actually be serving the Domenico Fanucci once again, that smile had vanished.
• I already had a hard time being around his sons. What if I'd make another mistake this time, and he would have my head for it?
• "Come on, let's get it done quickly so we can go home." Liza encouraged me.
• At last, our long day of work had finally come to an end, and I was back in front of the familiar, somewhat run-down, apartment complex.
• As I approached the entrance, something near the steps caught my eyes.
• It was a small pile of cigarette butts spread over the ground, and next to it was a small lighter. The second I bent down to take a closer look, my heartbeat quickened to an uncontrollable pace.
• My mouth went dry, and my mind went numb, staring at the distinctive red lighter which could only belong to one person.
• Anson.
• The red lighter, his favorite brand of cigarettes, the strange phone call.
• Could he have found me?
• "No!" I clutched my heart, glancing around the empty streets. I had expected someone to snatch me from the building or to see a familiar figure lurking in the shadows—but there was nothing.
• Just the him of the city and the distant sound of laughter from a nearby pub.
• "Calm down, Mena." I spoke to myself, taking deep breaths.
• Anson was not the only person smoking that brand, and he was not the only person with a red lighter.
• With that thought, I hurried inside the building, wanting to do nothing more than pick up Naty.
• It wasn't him.
• It couldn't be him.