Maid for the Italian Mafia

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by Flora Ferrari




  MAID FOR THE ITALIAN MAFIA

  AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE

  _______________________

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 125

  FLORA FERRARI

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  Series

  A Man Who Knows What He Wants

  Bratva Bear Shifters

  Lairds & Ladies

  Russian Underworld

  This Book

  Maid For The Italian Mafia

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  Series

  A Man Who Knows What He Wants

  Bratva Bear Shifters

  Lairds & Ladies

  Russian Underworld

  Newsletter

  COPYRIGHT

  Copyright © 2019 by Flora Ferrari.

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS

  Book 1: Baby Lust

  Book 2: Veteran

  Book 3: Built

  Book 4: Bambino

  Book 5: Rescued

  Book 6: Leader

  Book 7: Professor

  Book 8: Burned

  Book 9: Worldly

  Book 10: Pistol

  Book 11: Policed

  Book 12: Driven

  Book 13: Lucky 13

  Book 14: Lumberjacked

  Book 15: Protector

  Book 16: Carpenter

  Book 17: Italian Stallion

  Book 18: Gardener

  Book 19: Budapest Billionaire’s Virgin

  Book 20: Billionaire’s Babysitter

  Book 21: Cocky CFO

  Book 22: Fireman’s Filthy 4th

  Book 23: Mechanic

  Book 24: SEAL’s Secret

  Book 25: Police, Pooch, and Smooch

  Book 26: Fireman’s Fake Fiancée

  Book 27: Billionaire’s Virgin Ballerina

  Book 28: Bitcoin Billionaire’s Babysitter

  Book 29: Veterans Day Daddy

  Book 30: Cowboy’s Christmas Carol

  Book 31: Police Officer’s Princess

  Book 32: Statham

  Book 33: Bodyguard

  Book 34: Greek God

  Book 35: Billionaire Single Dad's Babysitter

  Book 36: Mountain Man

  Book 37: SEAL’s Justice

  Book 38: Royal Romance

  Book 39: Doctor Mountain Man’s Special Delivery

  Book 40: Crocodile Dan D

  Book 41: Mountain Man’s Secret Baby

  Book 42: Doctor Bad Boy’s Secret Baby

  Book 43: Cop’s Babysitter

  Book 44: Nanny for the Cop Next Door

  Book 45: Small Town SEAL’s Saving Grace

  Book 46: Cop’s Fake Fiancée

  Book 47: Billionaire’s Nanny

  Book 48: Cowboy’s Babysitter

  Book 49: Steamy

  Book 50: Brother’s Best Friend

  Book 51: Possessive Professor

  Book 52: Firefighter’s Babysitter

  Book 53: Soldier’s Secret Baby

  Book 54: Ward’s Independence Day

  Book 55: Doctor Next Door

  Book 56: Possessive Policeman

  Book 57: Coached by the MMA Fighter

  Book 58: Boss’s Babysitter

  Book 59: Virgin in New York

  Book 60: Rock Star’s Baby

  Book 61: Possessive Protector

  Book 62: Possessive Australian

  Book 63: Best Friend’s Brother

  Book 64: Possessive Cowboy

  Book 65: Summer Romanced

  Book 66: Possessive Prince

  Book 67: Lovers’s Enemy

  Book 68: Cop’s Best Friend

  Book 69: Possessive Firefighter

  Book 70: Football Next Door

  Book 71: Doctor December

  Book 72: Possessive Canadian

  Book 73: Blue Collar Billionaire

  Book 74: Possessive K-9 Cop

  Book 75: Possessive Brazilian

  Book 76: Hockey Obsession

  Book 77: Possessive Boston Irish American MMA Fighter

  Book 78: Halloween Next Door

  Book 79: Possessive Russian

  Book 80: Baseball Mine

  Book 81: Cop’s Caribbean Captive

  Book 82: Instalove Island

  Book 83: Dad’s Best Friend

  Book 84: Thanksgiving with Dad’s Boss

  Book 85: Possessive Italian Neighbor

  Book 86: Possessive Portuguese

  Book 87: Possessive Christmas Cop

  Book 88: Russian’s Obsession

  Book 89: Possessive Doctor’s Christmas

  Book 90: Possessive Parisian Pilot

  Book 91: U.K. Boxing Day

  Book 92: Jealous Russian Stalker

  Book 93: Italian Mountain Man

  Book 94: Aggressive Russian

  Book 95: Possessive Valentine

  Book 96: Possessive Hunter

  Book 97: Dad’s Russian Mafia Friend

  Book 98: Russian Teacher

  Book 99: Australian Obsession

  Book 100: Russian Next Door

  Book 101: Dad’s Irish Friend

  Book 102: Nanny for the Russian Mafia

  Book 103: Best Friend’s Dad

  Book 104: Basketball Babymaker

  Book 105: Possessive Veterinarian

  Book 106: Brother’s Fireman Friend

  Book 107: Brother’s Canadian Cowboy Friend

  Book 108: Summer Vacation with Dad’s Best Friend

  Book 109: Dad’s Italian Mafia Friend

  Book 110: Dad’s Irish Mafia Friend

  Book 111: Dad’s Football Friend

  Book 112: Possessing His Dancing Queen

  Book 113: Brother’s Cop Friend

  Book 114: Halloween With Dad’s Best Friend

  Book 115: Claimed By Her Boss

  Book 116: Possessive Rider

  Book 117: Dad’s Ex-Biker Buddy

  Book 118: Possessive Undercover Cop

  Book 119: Falling For Her Boss

  Book 120: Claiming His Fashionista

  Book 121: More Than Dad’s Best Friend

  Book 122: Thanksgiving With Dad’s Best Friend

  Book 123: Bossy Italian

  Book 124: Christmas With Dad’s Mafia Friend

  Book 125: Maid For The Italian Mafia

  BRATVA BEAR SHIFTERS

  Book 1: Dad’s Russian Mafia Bear Best Friend

  Book 2: Babysitter For Dad’s Russian Mafia Bear Friend

  Book 3: Dad’s Bratva Bear Friend

  LAIRDS & LADIES

  Book 1: Possessive Highlander

  Book 2: Taken By The Highlander

  RUSSIAN UNDERWORLD

  Book 1: Brooklyn Bratva

  Book 2: British Bratvar />
  MAID FOR THE ITALIAN MAFIA

  Times are tough and the only job this unskilled, curvy young woman can find is as a maid at the home of Matteo Milano, an Italian Mafia boss.

  I keep my head down and mind my own business, not asking questions, but this shy quirky girl who prefers books to boys, quickly starts to question the desires she has for this tall, dark and dangerous older man who lives in the shadows.

  When I walk in on him touching himself and moaning my name, I think I’m in danger of losing my job, the only way I have to pay my bills and stay off the street.

  But he tells me the only thing I’m in danger of is him, with his uncontrollable desire for my curves, my sincerity and the shyness that expresses it, and my innocence that he’d give anything to have.

  I’m scared to put myself out there for a guy, especially after what happened last time. No way I can risk something like that again, especially when I’m not even sure I can trust the sincerity of Matteo’s intentions.

  But he says his only intention is to be my first and only, and make me his, always. And he won’t stop until there’s a ring on my finger and a baby in my belly…and there’s no way he’s letting me go without making me his…forever.

  *Maid For The Italian Mafia is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with an HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.

  NEWSLETTER

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  CHAPTER 1

  Mandy

  My hand clenches the cleaning rag, balling it up in my hand the second Matteo Milano steps into the living room. I try and keep my eyes down, making sure not to make direct eye contact as I was warned.

  As my fist slides forward my knuckles drag over the top of the oak table I’m polishing, a stark contrast from the last pass of my rag when my hand was relaxed, my palm flat.

  My forearm tenses and then begins to shake. I take a deep breath in, trying my best not to be obvious and then slowly releasing it. Everything I try and do to remain calm is failing me right now, but in reality what in the world could work.

  Matteo stands six foot five and is packed with muscles. As he buttons the last button on his white shirt, the Roman numerals XXVI on his right pec muscle disappear from sight. But when he rolls up his sleeves there’s more ink carefully aligned on his forearm. It appears to be some kind of saying, or slogan or something…not that I’ll ever get close enough to read it myself. Heck, from the distance he keeps from everyone I haven’t even been able to tell what language it’s in.

  My back shoots straight and I pull my shoulders back as the sound of his wooden soled Gucci oxford lace-ups glide across the marble floor of his estate. He glides more than he walks, and covers more ground with one step than anyone I’ve ever seen. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was a retired professional athlete the way his movements are so precise, like I’m watching an anatomy and human movement documentary at the same time. And from the looks of those muscles that are attached to the sides of his neck, the way his thick chest projects up and out, and the power in those thick thighs and hips propel him forward, there’s no reason for me to believe he couldn’t fill in as a linebacker for any NFL team he chose on any given Sunday.

  But his life isn’t about sports. I’ve never even seen him glance at a TV, aside from the security cameras in his office which I was allowed to enter only once, and that was briefly. Matteo is all about business, and not the kind you find in Forbes magazine…at least not the kind that could be publicly traded or you could brag about at cocktail parties…not that I could ever picture him at a cocktail party making small talk.

  No, Matteo’s business is the kind that no one talks about but everyone knows. As Little Italy’s most feared Italian-American, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know what Matteo does isn’t exactly above-board.

  As he moves closer to me I try and focus on cleaning, but my eyes move upward, trying to take in the sight of him as long as I can…just making sure to avoid eye contact. I tuck my chin and try and make it look like I’m focused on the table in front of me, but he has this magnetic pull on me…and not just my eyes.

  I swear I feel the floor shake ever so slightly as he moves closer yet, and I imagine this beast of a man walking right up to me, grabbing me and taking me right here and now on this table that surely cost more than I’ll make this entire year keeping his estate slash mansion slash villa slash whatever you call these gigantic quote unquote homes, that the uber wealthy live in.

  Gabriele’s elbow finds my side and I turn my head completely so there’s no doubt I’m not looking at Matteo. As I do I make eye contact with Gabriele, Matteo’s maid who I’m here to help, it’s clear to see her lips are pursed as she looks down her nose at me.

  You know what I told you, she mouths, and I shake my head.

  No eye contact. Mr. Milano must never be distracted from the constant plotting and scheming that’s going on in his head. I couldn’t even imagine running a multi-billion dollar empire in addition to juggling the idea that your adversaries are literally out to kill you twenty-four hours a day.

  At least the district attorney said Matteo’s business is over a billion dollars, although how could anyone actually verify that? I guess this house, which Zillow appraised at seventy-seven million dollars is a pretty good indicator that he’s in, or definitely approaching, ten figure territory…the three comma club.

  But like most things Matteo never speaks about his wealth, or anything at all for that matter. He didn’t even speak at my initial interview, just sat in his Italian leather chair in the corner and watched as Gabriele grilled me with question after question, making it clear to me that she had copies of my credit report and other personal data in front of her.

  I didn’t bother asking her how she came to obtain those, and I also didn’t bother asking myself why I didn’t run for the door the moment I realized what I was interviewing for. There was just something so…so primal…so interesting, about this whole situation.

  I’m a voracious reader and I like nothing more than when a character goes down the rabbit hole, although of course not in such a way where she’s too stupid to live. Call me crazy, but I actually feel safer inside the walls of Matteo’s castle.

  I don’t know if it’s the big, burly guards at the guard house…the metal detectors, or the constant surveillance, but in a weird way it’s reassuring. Out in the streets there are people darting every which way…pickpockets sizing you up on the bus, the subway, even just walking down the street. But here, I feel safe, yet alive.

  I feel calm in the sense that nothing’s going to happen to me…at least nothing that I don’t want.

  But what I don’t understand is why I’m having these fantasies about Matteo. Why am I suddenly attracted to such a bad boy?

  Maybe I’m naive. Maybe I’m just young and learning about myself. I’m not totally sure, but I know for a fact that I’ve never met anyone like him in my eighteen years. Imagining the boys my age or the teachers at school trying to compare themselves to someone like Matteo is a complete joke.

  Matteo brushes past me, and my breath quickens. I take in the scent of his cologne, and close my eyes so I can take a long, deep inhale of his woodsy scent. Is that Hugo Boss? I wouldn’t know. I’m not the kind of girl who can afford brand name scents at the perfume counter. And I certainly don’t know men’s scents. I’ve never even been kissed, except for that one time, but that doesn’t even count. My blood boils just thinking about it, and my trust is still damaged from what that boy did to me.

  I’ve already imagined Matteo ripping him apart limb from limb for what he did. And damn did it ever feel good, not just for the revenge factor but sexually as well. I had no idea how erotic violence could be, but then again I’ve learned a lot about life, and myself, in this first week that I’ve been in Matteo’s home.

  With Matteo now past me an
d continuing towards the kitchen, most likely, I don’t try and hide my wandering eyes. Even the man’s glutes are rock hard, his back wide enough that I could climb it like one of those indoor walls that rich people who can afford sports like that go to.

  It’s like the rest of the world melts away as I just take in the sight of him, and just as he leaves the room and enters the next he turns back and locks eyes with me for the first time ever.

  I freeze, feeling my cheeks heat and the sound of my trembling hand bouncing up and down on the table.

  Shit, Mandy…pull yourself together.

  There’s no doubt he can see me blushing, yet his expression doesn’t change one bit. His pupils dilate and I swear he’s looking at me like a feral wolf who hasn’t eaten in weeks and has come down out of the hills to claim something it can most certainly prey on…human flesh.

  What am I thinking? Curvy, introverted girls like me don’t attract men like Matteo. He can have anyone he wants. His body looks like it’s carved out of the same marble that makes up so much of his home. He even looks better than some of the statues that are strategically located throughout the home that I’m paid to polish each week. And he’s rich, and according to the press half of the world’s most famous heiresses, models, and actresses are trying their damndest to attract his attention…and the other half have given up after years of unsuccessfully trying.

  “Mandy! The polish is running off the edge of the table,” Gabriele scolds.

 

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