A Suite For The Mafia Boss

AURORA'S POV “I want you to watch.” His cold voice stopped me dead in the track, sending chills down my spine as I turned to face him. His sky-blue eyes held no sign of emotions as they stayed locked on mine. He wants me to watch? What did he mean by that? I swallowed hard, forcing my face into something flat. Whatever he wanted from me, he wasn't getting it. My eyes shifted to the two men who were still kneeling on the floor; one of them had wet his pants from fear, and the other had tears spilling across his face like a small child that was caught stealing. These were grown-up men. Men that would intimidate anyone on an ordinary day. But here they were looking like children waiting to be told they had been forgiven. “Boss, please—I beg of you," one of the men choked in fear, his voice trembling as he struggled to speak. “My daughter just turned two—" he cried out. " My—my wife is pregnant—” he pleaded, his hands clamped together all through. The other man had gone pale from shock and couldn't even utter a word. Damien's lips twitched, not in a smiley way and I felt my stomach dropped before I understood why. I watched as he reached for a shotgun I had failed to notice beside him until now. He picked it up and slowly c****d it loudly, every movement painfully slow. He held the gun loosely, like it weighed nothing against his palm, and suddenly… The bang came before I braced for it. Warm liquid hit my face, my sleeve, blooming dark against the white fabric. My ears rang loudly as the room went dead silent. I lifted my head just in time to see one of the men slump on the ground, the same one that had pleaded he had a child. Damien leaned back against the couch, completely unbothered, like he hadn't just ended a man's life in front of me. How did I get here? *Two months ago* "Have you managed a team before?" one of the interviewers asked even though it was clearly written inside my CV, as she flips through my documents without looking up. "Yes, three years at Weros Hotel. I ran a floor staff of twelve." I kept my voice steady, folding my hands over my lap to stop them from fidgeting. "And you understand fully well that this role reports directly to hotel leadership. Long hours, high pressure, and very little room for error." "I try not to make room for error ma'am," I said smoothly with a confident smile. The woman closest to me looked up over the rim of her glasses, something close to approval flickering there before she dropped her gaze back to the document. "And why did you choose this hotel?" My throat tightened at the question. I suddenly thought of my mom's body being rolled out of the hotel. The memories were still fresh in my head like they had happened just yesterday. The smell of rain mixed with dust and the blinding light of the cops siren as they wheel her lifeless pale body out. My hand curved into a fist and i bit the inside of my cheeks. “Miss Hayes?” The interview called with a little bit of confusion emerged across her face, snapping me out of my thoughts. I lifted my head and forced a quick smile at her. "It's the best in the city." The words tasted bitter as they rolled out my lips. Something close to the truth at least, it was the best with the highest paycheck. But it wasn't the complete truth. They exchanged a glance I couldn't read, scribbled something down, and told me they'd be in touch. I walked out of that building with my heels clicking loudly against the polished marble floors. I walked past the golden C engraved in the big lobby, the exact spot my mother's body had been found ten years ago and the case was closed before it even smelled the day's light. Even though the whole hotel was renovated, it was still here. I didn't stop walking. Was I really about to manage a hotel that had taken my mom's life? I shook my head, it didn't matter. I've been preparing myself for this for years, and most importantly I needed the paycheck. ~~~~ When I arrived home, my father was sitting by the window just as he always did since my mother's death, staring at nothing in particular. I knelt in front of him and pressed the small sticky note I had written into his palm. ‘My name is Aurora. Your daughter. You are safe.’ He read it slowly, his eyes clearing just a little. "Aurora," he repeated, like it was something strange. "That's me," I said, smiling through it like it didn't break something in me every single time. My brother Leo was already asleep on the couch, exhausted from his dialysis session earlier that day. I pulled the blanket over him properly and pressed a kiss to his forehead, careful not to wake him. This is why I'm doing this. That night, after my father had fallen asleep, I pulled out the box from under my bed. Ten years of newspaper clippings, a police report stamped "CLOSED," and my own notes. Pages of questions with no answers. I couldn't look at the photos without the memory of that night hunting me. I stared at the police report instead. No investigation. No evidence. Just a file that went nowhere, like she never mattered at all. The Corey Hotel was the last place she was seen alive. The call came in three days later. Surprisingly, I got the job. I spent my first two weeks in the hotel learning which department heads actually did their jobs and which ones needed monitoring. After seeing how capable I was, by the first two weeks, even the veteran staff had stopped showing me around. One evening, I was walking past the east wing when I overheard two housekeeping staff whispering something, their voices so low that I almost missed it. "Is he in the building tonight?" one of them asked, not even bothering to look up from the sheets she was folding. The other older lady nodded once, she looked worn out from stress. “Apparently I heard he is in a bad mood, stay out of the VVIP section if you can.” "I heard what happened to Rachel last month." The first lady lowered her voice slightly. "I heard she didn't come back, but it's just rumors, who knows, I also heard she quit too after coming back…" Didn't come back? Quit too? I slowed my steps, pretending to check something on my clipboard. "Just don't make eye contact with him," the older woman muttered under her breath. "Whatever you do." "Who?" I asked before I could stop myself, interrupting their conversation. The two women turned to me at once, completely startled. The older woman's expression shifted into something I couldn't place but it made my skin crawl. "You must be the new assistant manager," she said, avoiding my eyes. "You'll find out soon enough." "What exactly?" I pressed. I was never the type to let a question sit unanswered, not when it was staring at me straight in the face. But the two women only exchanged a brief look, gathered their cart, and walked off without another word, leaving me standing in the middle of that hallway. Whatever they were afraid of, I intended to find out even if it's the last thing I'll do. I glanced toward the end of the corridor, toward the private elevator leading to the VVIP section of the hotel, somewhere even I hadn’t entered in my two weeks of working. I felt my chest tighten.