Six months contract with the mafia boss

CHAPTER 3

MELIORA

Who would have thought that my night, which began as just another exhausting day of cleaning tables and balancing trays, would end with me sitting in the passenger seat of a black car? A car driven by a man I know absolutely nothing about.

I have no idea where we are headed, and every nerve in my body screams caution.

What if he decides that I’m not as valuable to him as he first thought? What if he pulls over, drags me into the woods, and leaves me there—buried under the cold earth with no one to find me?

How did it come to this? My father, the man who was supposed to protect me, the man who should have shielded me from the cruelty of the world, has handed me over like a piece of merchandise. His resentment, his selfishness, runs so deep that he thought nothing of offering me as collateral for his debts.

Yes, I told myself I’d do whatever it took to help him. I told myself I’d step in when his bad decisions came crashing down around him. But this? A hundred million dollars? A sum so big it would take me a hundred lifetimes of waiting tables and scraping by to even come close to earning. How could he do this to me? I don’t think it’s one I’ll ever recover from.

“Your phone.”

The man’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

His outstretched hand hovered in the air, waiting for me to obey. I hesitated, the tremor in my fingers betraying my fear, as I reached into the pocket of my worn jeans and pulled out my phone. Silently, I placed it into his palm, my heart pounding.

Right in front of me, he rolled down the window and, flung my phone out into the darkness. I stared in disbelief, watching the faint glow of the screen disappear into the night before I could even process what had just happened.

“What the hell did you do that for?” The words tumbled out before I could stop myself.

He turned his head slowly, his sharp gaze locking onto mine. For a moment, he just stared, his expression unreadable. Then, with a slight tilt of his head, he spoke, his voice raspy. “I see you still have some fight left in you.”

He returned his attention to his own phone, completely unbothered by my outburst. “Another phone will be provided to you,” he continued, as if throwing someone’s phone out of a moving car was the most natural thing in the world. “It will have the numbers you’re allowed to call, and only those numbers. If you want a number added, you’ll tell me, and if I think it’s necessary, I’ll consider it.”

I blinked. That wasn’t just controlling—it was suffocating. The thought of being cut off, of having no one to turn to except the people he approved of, felt like a prison sentence. A personal version of hell, tailored just for me.

I wanted to lash out, to demand he explain why he had the right to dictate my life. But I bit my tongue, the metallic taste of blood grounding me. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to stay silent. This wasn’t the time for rebellion. Not yet.

Six months. That’s how long this nightmare is supposed to last. Six months of working for him, enduring whatever rules and control he throws my way. And then I’ll be free. Free to go back to my life, to pick up the pieces, and pretend none of this ever happened.

But deep down, I already knew. After this, nothing in my life would ever be the same.

“Can I at least know where you’re taking me?” I whispered, careful not to provoke him. But judging by the way his jaw tightened, I might as well have screamed in his ear. It seemed that even the simple act of breathing was enough to irritate him.

Before I could react, his hand shot out, gripping my cheeks with a force that made me wince. His face was only inches from mine.

“Rule number one, love,” he hissed. “Don’t ask f*****g questions.” His grip tightened, making my skin ache. “My patience isn’t always this generous.”

Generous? Did he just call his current attitude generous? A scoff escaped me before I could stop it. My hand flew to my mouth in panic, covering it as if I could somehow take it back. My eyes widened, apologetic and filled with dread.

His glare darkened, and for a moment, I thought I’d gone too far. But instead of snapping, he shoved me back into my seat with a rough push.

I didn’t dare speak again, my pulse racing as I stared out the window, pretending to focus on the shadows racing past.

The car turned onto a narrow road, far from the bustle of the city. The surroundings grew very quiet, the headlights showing nothing but dense vegetation and towering trees.

My stomach churned with dread as we drove deeper into the isolation.

My heart pounded harder with every mile, a voice in my head screaming that this was it. This was where he’d stop, drag me out, and make good on my earlier fears of being left to rot in the woods.

But then, as if emerging from nowhere, a massive gate came into view. It creaked open automatically as we approached, revealing a path lined with tall, elegant streetlights.

The drive seemed to stretch on forever, the car going through a perfectly manicured estate surrounded by rolling hills and sprawling lawns. Thirty agonizing minutes passed before we finally came to a stop in front of an estate so grand it looked like it had been ripped from the pages of a magazine.

The bright lights spilling from the massive house immediately made me anxious about the electricity bill.

I barely had time to process the size of the mansion before the angry man opened the car door and stepped out without a word, leaving me alone with the driver.

The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror, his expression hard and impatient. “Aren’t you getting off?” he snapped his tone just as cutting as his boss’s. “I need to park properly.”

My mouth fell open slightly, forming a small “O” of surprise, but I quickly scrambled to push the door open and step out. The cool night air brushed against my skin as I stood awkwardly on the gravel driveway.

The young boss stood a few feet away, his hands buried deep in his pockets, the sharp lines of his suit making him look even more intimidating than he had in the car. His gaze flicked toward me, and a scoff slipped from his lips. “What? You thought I was going to open the door for you?”

Before I could even think of a response, a soft, feminine voice called out from the house. “Dominic?”

He turned toward the sound, and my eyes followed his, landing on a young woman stepping out of the front doors. She was beautiful, her sharp features framed by dark hair.

“Did you find him?” she asked, her eyes drifting over to me.

Her gaze was cold, assessing, as it trailed over me from head to toe before snapping back to Dominic. The unspoken question in her expression was obvious: Who is this? And what is she doing here?

Despite wearing a simple two-piece suit, everything about her screamed wealth and power. It wasn’t just her expensive jewelry or her flawless skin; it was the way she carried herself, the authority in her posture. This was a woman who didn’t just have money—she controlled it, and probably everyone around her, too.

“Who is she?” she asked, as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her eyes flicked to me. “I didn’t realize you were looking to hire more domestic staff.”

Hire? Domestic staff? More like I was hauled down here against my will, dropped into this strange world without so much as an explanation.

Dominic glanced at me briefly, his expression unreadable, before turning his attention back to her. “I found Marcus,” he said. “And, of course, he didn’t have my money.”

My heart tightened at the mention of my father’s name, and I instinctively tugged at the hem of my jacket. I forced myself to take in my surroundings, distracting myself with the estate as they spoke about him like he was nothing more than a failed business deal.

The woman raised a brow, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “You weren’t looking for him to take your money,” she mused. “What we both agreed he deserved was death.”

I froze.

My eyes snapped back to her, wide with disbelief. She said it so casually, as if they were talking about the weather or an overdue bill, not ending someone’s life.

“There’s no need to kill him now that I have a way to take back my money,” Dominic rasped, his gaze never leaving me. For some strange reason, I didn’t look away this time. His piercing blue eyes held me captive, an intensity I hadn’t expected. “He offered her as collateral.”

I saw something in Dominic’s eyes—something familiar. Have I seen him before? Those eyes, they felt so hauntingly familiar.

“A collateral?” She glanced at me, her gaze sweeping over me with a scoff that made me feel small as if I wasn’t even worth her consideration. “Since when did you take collaterals, Dominic?”

“Since today,” he replied, his voice flat, clearly not appreciating her questioning tone. His eyes narrowed slightly, the shift in his demeanor enough to make her pause, though she didn’t seem intimidated.

“Then how long is she going to clean to be able to pay a hundred million dollars, Dominic?” she asked, her frown deepening. She found the whole thing laughable. And maybe, from her perspective, it was.

For the first time since I’d met him, Dominic smiled—truly smiled, and that smile… It wasn’t directed at me but at her. “She will be working as my assistant.”

“An assistant?” I blurted the words out at the same time the lady did.

Dominic’s smile vanished in an instant, his face hardening as his gaze locked onto me. “Do you have a problem with that?” he hissed. “Would you rather ride poles in my clubhouse?”

The idea of being in that kind of situation was too much, and it was enough to shut me up instantly.

“I thought so too,” Dominic muttered under his breath, clearly satisfied by my lack of response.