“That’s the owner’s name,” he explained when he saw my confused face.
I looked around the café. There were about two staff running the front of house. The lovely blond model and an older lady. I eyed the older lady. She looked like the owner.
“That’s Lily there.” Crispin pointed out, to my dismay. “The waitress you thought was a model. She bakes, cooks, as well as takes care of the front of house business.”
“Wow.” That was all I could say.
I was dumbfounded. Not only was she pretty and model material, but now she had been upgraded to a superwoman in my eyes.
“She’s my idol,” I told Crispin, to which he responded with a shake of his head.
“Why?”
“Why do you ask why? ’Cause she’s achieved so much, that’s why. And she’s young, too,” I said, while I watched her work. She was running her feet off, smiling and greeting her customers, but there was sadness in her eyes that I could detect.
“She works hard. Did I tell you she’s only twenty-five? And she went to our college.”
“Brooklyn College?”
“Yeah. She didn’t graduate though. Rumor has it that she went through some bad stuff. Had a kid, too, with some guy.”
“Geee! Some wrong decision, maybe?”
“Nah! Said she loved him. They broke up because of something.”
“Wow! That must be pretty tough.”
“Tough? Look at you,” Crispin lectured me. “Your father and sister abandoned you, leaving you all alone to fend for yourself, and here you feel sorry for someone else.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say abandoned. They went to live somewhere else, is all.” I played with the rim of the coffee cup, my eyes downcast.
I was intentionally avoiding eye contact with him. Deep down I was embarrassed and disgusted with myself for not facing the truth. Why must I always make excuses for Pa and Amelia. Crispin was right. They had abandoned me. I should just forget about them and start living my life. With Giovanni. But somewhere in my heart I’d hoped they’d come back to find me and apologize to me for what they’d done. Even if Pa wouldn’t, at least Amelia would. But even Amelia had disappeared into thin air.
“Well, I think she’s in a worse state,” I said, trying to ease my own pain. “At least I don’t have a kid to look after. Twenty-five and with a kid, too; that’s got to be tough. Say, how old is her kid?”
“Six years old. A boy.”
“Oh, cute.” I made a cute face before the information sank in. “Wait... back up a bit here. If her kid is six years old, that meant she had him when she was nineteen?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s my age.”
“Yeah.”
“She was pregnant at eighteen?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow. That’s pretty young. Must be hard.”
“Yeah. But she’s managing all right, I guess.”
“Yeah. I guess.”
And for that one small moment, my heart throbbed with delight because I had Crispin as my friend and Giovanni as my lover. What more could I want? Even without Pa and Amelia with me, I had people who cared for me. My world, at that moment, was rosy.
Chapter 7
Punish with a Kiss
Giovanni
“Heath, do you have a lover?” Giovanni asked his underling at exactly three p.m.
Heath looked up from his paperwork, his eyebrows crinkling. He shook his head. “No, Boss.”
Giovanni beamed and casually leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his head, a blissful, serene look on his face.
“You should get one,” he suggested. “They make you happy.”
“You happy, Boss?”
“You can’t tell?” Giovanni spun to face his underling.
Heath returned the favor, inspecting his face.
Giovanni bared a grin that illuminated his entire face.
“Yep, Boss, you’re happy,” Heath concluded, which satisfied Giovanni immensely.
But by five forty-five p.m., Giovanni was an entirely different person. He resembled a twister, speeding back and forward across his office, with every few seconds checking his mobile phone.
None. No return messages.
How many had he sent? Ten, fifteen?
Fuck! Where was she? And what the fuck was this feeling inside his chest? Like some bastard had ripped his heart out and was squeezing it like a stress ball. It fucking hurt.
The realization dawned on him like a hot brick on his face.
He. Was. Worried.
The fuck! He was either pissed or mad, but never worried. This was an entirely new feeling. But this was the exact same feeling when Jay ran off a few weeks back, before they became lovers.
Why did he never feel like this with his previous lovers? The answer was pure and simple. He was a heartless bastard. He’d never loved anyone seriously. Not until Jay came along. And it fucking scared him when she wasn’t home where she should be.
He checked his mobile again. Nothing.
Thrusting his fingers through his hair, he swore in agitation. “Where the fucking hell is she?” Having his gutsful of worry, he yelled to his underlings. “Bobby! Jonny! Get in here. Now!”
Both came scrambling into the room and stood tall and straight, awaiting Giovanni’s further instruction.
“Any of you louts heard anything from Jay? She’s not home. And it’s fucking six p.m.”
“Ah, Boss, it’s only five fifty p.m.,” Bobby corrected him.
The room went silent. Giovanni stood still and coldly glared at his underlings. This only meant one thing. Giovanni was beyond mad. He was fucking furious.
Giovanni stood eye to eye with Bobby. Staring down at him, he hissed, “Are you fucking pissing with me? If you can’t tell me where Jay disappeared to, then get out of my sight.”
“Ah, Boss, are you worried Jenny is not here to make you dinner? We could get takeout.” Jonny, who couldn’t read the dire situation, put in his two cents.
Giovanni cursed his underlings to hell. “I give you two to the count of three, before I knock your teeth out. Now get out,” he roared.
His underlings couldn’t get out the door fast enough.
Fuck! How could his underlings have thought it was about food? Of course, it wasn’t about the fucking food. Sure, Jay made delicious food, and he’d admitted that he was addicted to eating her meals instead of dining out. Hell, he’d even liked it more now that she’d started cooking those foods that didn’t contain that seafood shit, ’cause after that seafood incident at that restaurant, she’d learned not to mess with him and his immune system.
She could cook for him and his underlings if she wanted to, but Jay was his lover now, not his maid. She was not obligated to do any of those chores like before. The only chores she was obligated to do was have sex with him and just make him happy.
But now he was not happy. He was fucking worried and afraid. Afraid that bad things might happen to her.
Giovanni knew well enough the people he associated with had some degree of power and reputation. A certain reputation normal people would be fucking scared to even think of.
Fuck! Fuck this! What the hell was he supposed to do? In his mind’s eye, a million scenarios were already playing in his head. Did Leo kidnap her? Worse yet, did Nikolas Lorenzo hear of his new relationship with Jay? If he had, that meant he could no longer let Jay wander around the city freely, like before. Nikolas was always in conflict with him, and the bastard would do anything to cause a little stir between their two groups. And kidnapping Jay would result in more than a little stir. He’d go in with guns blazing.
Fuck! There had to be rules when becoming the lover of the mafia boss. And the first rule was to arrive home on time, at fucking five p.m.!
Giovanni gnashed his teeth. He’d made an ultimatum. If Jay failed to turn up by six p.m., someone was getting a bloodbath. If Jay did turn up by six p.m., she’d be in for a nasty punishment. No one made Giovanni worried and got away with it. Lover or
maid. No exception.
Jenny
My world, at the moment, was crumbling down faster than the Berlin wall. Dear Ma up in heaven, please help me.
It was now six p.m., and I was home late. All because of my damned phone. Well, I really should blame myself for being clumsy in the first place. If I hadn’t stupidly dropped the phone in the glass of water, then I wouldn’t be one hour late. Or maybe it was because I lost track of time, since I was having fun hanging out with Crispin, checking out the new boys’ love manga. Either way, I was dead meat.
Why must I feel like this? Sneaking around the house like I was hiding something. Was I betraying Giovanni’s trust by hanging out with Crispin?
Surely not. Crispin was my friend first. Giovanni only came into my world just a few months back. There have to be priorities in a person’s life, and Crispin was one of my priorities. Well, our friendship was.
But Giovanni ...
Ahhh. What should I do? Or better yet, what would he do?
Ohhhh... I knew what he would do. He’d start by roasting me, then grilling me, until he found out why I was home late.
That was his personality. No talking. Just straight to action. Kill before negotiation.
All I hoped for now was that I’d arrived home before he did. And maybe with a little peace offering, like this heart croissant I bought for him from Café Love Sick, we’d be all sugar and spices again.
Except my hope was dashed the moment I saw his Maserati parked in the front. I rushed into the kitchen, only to collide with Heath.
“Heath, so sorry,” I puffed out.
Heath just stared down at me without so much as a flinch on his face. If I didn’t know him any better, I would be afraid of him. But Heath was just a gigantic man who was soft as a teddy bear.
“Have you seen Boss around?” I asked.
“He is looking for you.”
Five words. That was all he said, and I was already shivering in my shoes.
“In his office?”
He nodded and walked off.
I nodded, too, while trying my best to gulp down the fear that rode up my throat.
I didn’t know how to behave in this kind of situation. What was I to him at this moment? His maid, his coffee machine, or his lover? Depending on my status, the punishment would differ. And it was too damned early to know where I stood. I had been his maid and coffee machine for more than three months. I was his lover for less than a week.
I left my gift on the kitchen counter, put on my brave face, and sauntered off to his study. Without waiting for an answer, I knocked three times and poked my head in.
“Boss, you were looking for me?” I asked casually, when inside, my heart was quaking like a scared mouse.
“You’re late,” he snapped, his eyes glaring at me.
“Sorry, I forgot the time,” I tweeted, frozen in place.
“What were you doing at this hour?”
Giovanni strode toward me and stood just a hair’s breadth away. He glared down at me. I lifted my eyes and stared back at him... only for my breath to be knocked out of my lungs. Figuratively, of course.
Up this close, I was reminded of how handsome a man he really was. He was the representation of a black panther: angry, nostrils all flared up, and eyes like a soundless black pit, that if I fell in I could never get back up. But to me, he was so alluring and tempting, I wanted to be stuck in this black pit forever.
But he was angry. And I didn’t want that. I didn’t want my lover to be angry at me. We could talk. Explain ourselves, then kiss and make up.
Or did he still see me as his maid right now?
“I went out for lunch with a friend, then we hung out,” I explained quietly, my eyes slowly glistening.
One second ticked by. Two seconds ticked by. I just stood there, my eyes downcast, like a child waiting to be scolded by her parents. There was not a single word that came out of his mouth. All was silent. And it scared the hell out of me.
When he was all loud and stupidly yelling at his underlings, I could handle him, but when he was like this, all silent and serious, I didn’t know what to do. He must be really angry. He must be—
There was a flash of action, then I was cradled by the head and pushed back until I was pressed up against the wall. It took only one second for me to grasp on to the situation that Giovanni was kissing me, with such force and passion, my toes curled upward.
“What the fuck are you doing to me, Jay?” he said huskily beside my ear. Shivers ran down my spine the instant his lips touched mine. Then he kissed me again.
This time, he took it further by dragging his lips to the corner of my jaw until he reached the nape of my neck. Slowly and gently, he sucked at that site. He grew aggressive, biting me right there, tempting me right there, seducing me right there, until I was throbbing inside.
I was shaking all over, my legs unable to support me. I leaned onto him, using him as support.
“Boss,” I rasped against him. “Boss.”
I was quickly losing myself. I was quickly becoming undone.
Giovanni’s kisses weren’t real. This was only my illusion, morphed by my desire to end our argument with a kiss.
“Jennifer, I’ll die for you, you know that,” he growled, cradling my cheeks on both sides, his eyes refocused on me. “I’ll fucking die for you if something were to happen to you.”
That voice. His tone. Such strong sentiment in those words. This was all too real. He was too real to me.
How could I have thought this was an illusion. The evidence was there in his eyes, deep pools of black, so dark I was already lost in them. And those jaws, taut, clenching so tightly, the muscles contracted painfully.
“Boss,” I tenderly touched his jaw, causing them to relax. We were divided by an inch of air. The atmosphere between us rippled with sexual tension. I inhaled air into my oxygen-starved lungs and rested my forehead against his, pacifying him. “Don’t say stuff like that.”
“I can, and I’ll fucking declare it now.” His left hand was cradling my face, his fingers gently stroking my tender cheek. I leaned into that palm, seeking comfort I didn’t know I craved. “Don’t ever run from me, Jennifer. I don’t think I can bear it if you’re not here beside me.”
Giovanni sounded afraid. And he was never afraid. In fact, he only inflicted fear onto people. I, who stood here in front of him, had this much influence on him.
“I’m not going anywhere.” I comforted him. “Can’t you see, I’m still here? Beside you.”
“Mmm.” He purred.
He was the black panther, orbiting around me, breathing in my scent, as if these actions could pacify his inner turmoil, reassuring him that I was here, breathing the same air as him.
What had become of this mafia boss? How had I ever thought he’d hurt me? Here he was, holding me so tenderly, like I was someone precious to him. I should feel ashamed for even thinking he was capable of hurting me.
But he was a mafia boss, after all. How far would our charade go? How long before he woke up from this dream of his and found out I was no longer his Jennifer? But I was willing to play along, to pretend I was his Jennifer. Because, until my memory came back, I was not convinced that I was his.
If only he would stop calling me his Jennifer. If only he would accept me for who I was now. If only...
Chapter 8
A Gift of Love
Thirty minutes later, Giovanni calmed down to the level of a toddler being handed a piece of candy. In this case, I was the candy. He licked and licked and licked in places I was too shy to say. And my lips were all bruised. If I had a mirror, I would see that I resembled a blowfish. Cheeks all puffed, lips all swollen.
“Ow, Boss, that’s enough.” I pushed him off and huddled my naked body within the bedsheet. Giovanni scoffed, tossed me around to face him, and did something so deliciously evil, I yelped. “Ow, Boss. What was that for?” I tossed a glare at him when he sucked the nape of my neck. I bet it’s going to bruise tomorrow.
“You never answered me where you went.”
“For the hundredth time,” I sighed in irritation, picking myself off the bed and looking for my scattered clothing on the floor, “I said I was out and about with my friend and had forgotten the time. And it was six o’clock on the dot when I arrived home.”
I gritted my teeth and gave Giovanni my version of his pissed-off face. He only laughed, and it made my belly do floppy things.
I gritted my teeth again, this time mad with myself for wanting to go for round two after having been quenched only a few seconds ago.
I turned to more important matters, which was my bloody jeans. Now where the hell were they? More importantly, where were my bra and undies? Where did that bloody mafia boss throw them to?
Damn, what had I turned into, wandering around Giovanni’s bedroom wrapped in a white bedsheet?
Three months ago, I would have laughed until my belly puffed if someone told me that, in the future, I’d become the lover of the mafia boss. But now, even if I tried to laugh, it wouldn’t sound real because the fact was, this situation was all too real. I was the mafia boss’ siren.
The thought caused a crimson color to appear on my twin cheeks. But I should be used to this by now. Giovanni liked to eat me at random times, and today was one of those occasions.
My, what a day. Thinking about it now, I sure had to deal with a lot of issues. First Crispin and his sullen mood, and now Giovanni with his PMS. What else must I deal with next, living in my new life as lover to the mafia boss?
An arm appeared from nowhere and snaked around my middle, dragging me back to bed. Giovanni, the damned brute. My whole body collapsed on top of his steel chest with an umph sound. Tossing me about until I lay flat on top of him, he touched every bit of me. And I could feel every bit of him, too, pressing into my body in all the right places.
If he wasn’t so damned delicious, I would be able to answer his question right away, but because I was intoxicated with his hot body, intoxicated by his baritone voice, he needed to shake me from my reverie before I could articulate my speech.
“Answer me, Jay.” His face was an inch away from my face, his eyes solely on me. “Who did you hang out with, this friend of yours. A boy or a girl?”
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