The Mafia’s possessive Obsession

Chapter2

ROSA

My body aches as I walk through the tables, towards a couple not attended to. I started working at Trattoria del Re a week ago. The most upscale restaurant in New York, owned by the most feared Mafioso, Dante Romano, not that I wanted to work here, but I needed the extra cash for mammà’s surgery and when Summer told me there was a vacancy, I took it without second thoughts. Summer was the only person I’d call a friend in this mess that was my life.

Summer and I have known each other since we were teenagers at the parish cathedral. Although I have long forgotten the exact circumstances in which we became friends, we’ve been friends ever since.

The only great thing about working at the Trattoria del Re was that Mr Romano was hardly ever around and Matteo, the restaurant's manager, ran the place in his stead, which I was more than grateful for. The Cosa Nostra and all its leaders terrified the living hell out of me and the last thing I needed was to see one of its leaders too frequently. I shuddered at the thought.

“Good evening,” I forced a smile as I got to table four, where the sweet-looking couple sat, scanning their menus like they were choosing their last meal. “Welcome to Trattoria del re, my name is Rosa, and I'll be taking care of you tonight.”

I jot down their order and offered a polite nod before heading back to the barista, but before I got there, Mr. Matteo grabs my hand.

“Rosa!”

I stiffened. “Yes sir?”

“Need you to grab some fresh towels from the store room. Sal’s still taking table eight.”

“Of course,” I say,

Though I'm panicking because I’d only been to that damn room once when Summer showed me around on my first day and I hadn't been paying much attention then. Still, I headed to the back hallway, retracing the path in my mind. Left, then right… or was it right then left?

I try a door and step in, expecting towels and supplies. Instead, there's a gunshot and instantly, I'm doused in ice.

I have a clear view of three men, one who was gripping a man by his neck, as blood pooled on the floor. By the way he stood, it was a no-brainer that he was someone powerful. Just looking at him, even with his back turned to me, makes my stomach turn.

And then, there's the other two; a bulky-looking man as big as a mountain, with short, blond hair. His eyes are stern and harsh, like he was born with a permanent scowl. The other man is shorter, and appears younger than mountain man. His physique is leaner in comparison to the two men present in the room. His hair is black and gathered in a low bun and a jagged scar sliced through his cheeks.

A squeak escaped me as I realized where I was, which had both mountain man and scar face’s eyes snapping in my direction.

Oh, dear God!

My heart instantly hammers against my ribs, and I quickly dart out the door. I know it's stupid of me to run but my survival instinct kicks in.

I don't even reach the end of the hallway before I'm grabbed by the arm and hauled back to the office.

“I didn't see anything, please.” I plead. Scarface ignores me as he continues to drag me to my doom, which has me begging some more. Without any reply, I was shoved into the office and I stumbled forward. My eyes lock on Mr Romano, who's wiping blood off his hands. He doesn't look up at me as he does so and the sight makes me want to bolt out of my skin.

“Boss, what do we do with him?” mountain man asks, paying me no attention.

“Dispose of him, send a 10 grand cheque to his wife. God knows she’ll need it,” Mr Romano says in a low and dangerous tone; his voice is smooth like silk but dangerous and masculine.

My eyes widen as the body is being hauled away through a side door by mountain man who doesn't even break a sweat. I almost threw up the remainder of my lunch as I took in the blood that now smeared the floor.

Slowly, Mr Romano lifts his head and when his gray eyes lock on me, fear rushes through my body. His expression was unreadable for a minute, shock and confusion taking over as he drank me in, but before I could blink, it was gone, and in its place was the unreadable stare from earlier.

“I- I won’t say anything, sir, I just lost my way.” I blurted. He just stared at me with that unreadable expression.

If my heart beats faster at the rate it's going, I'm going to pass out and die from shock.

“And…. Who are you?” He finally asks, his eyes fixed on me as he puts down the gun.

“R- Rosa, I just started working here a week ago, and I'm sorry for losing my way and coming here. I promise I didn't see anything.”

“Rosa…” he repeats my name like he’s trying to understand something that was a mystery to him.

He takes a deep breath while slowly stalking closer to me. The urge to turn and run my life overwhelms me, but I stay rooted in place. When he stops only inches from me, I have to tilt my head to look at him and Christ! He was stunning and terrifying all at once.

His black hair is in stark contrast to his gunmetal gray eyes, which look like there's a storm brewing in them. His jaw is razor-sharp with perfectly trimmed stubble surrounding it and his lips are a rich shade of pink.

When he suddenly lifted his hands to my face, I cringed back and let out a frightened sound. I shut my eyes tightly as I waited for the punch.

Seconds pass, and when I feel hands brush my cheek, my eyes fly open. Mr Romano’s gaze watches me closely as he wraps his forefinger around the curl of my hair. His touch is strangely gentle, but it sends shivers down my spine.

Then his lips parted and the words that came out were soft. I almost didn't hear it.

“Lavender.”

I didn't understand what he meant, but then his eyes met mine again and the softness vanished.

“Calm down, Cerbiatta,” he says, his voice deceptively calm. “I’m not going to hurt you… yet.”