“You are my servant, Jay. And most importantly, you will be my coffee machine. Whenever I want one, you will make one for me. You must be available twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.”

-From Giovanni, the mafia boss, to Jenny, his maid.

I was sweating like a pig. God, I hoped I didn’t smell. Girls who smell didn’t attract guys. That much I knew. Not that I wanted to attract any of the men here. But I really couldn’t help myself with all this sweating. I’d never been so nervous in my entire life. Standing there with their murderous watchful eyes as I prepped the coffee machine and ground the coffee beans were Bobby and Heath, the two men in black I saw earlier, and Jonny and Finnie, the other two who appeared just now.

What’s with their names? They don’t sound mafia-ish at all.

Although I wasn’t intimidated by them in the least, I was actually talking about that big boss Giovanni. Him and his stares, they were freaking me out.

Big stature, big name, and big ego. And did I mention big ass too, figuratively speaking, of course. But seriously, what a waste of a handsome face. Such nice eyes and lips, yet with the face he was making now, I bet none of the girls would want to look at him. That included me. I wondered if he had a girlfriend, though.

Crap! Why am I thinking these thoughts now?

I hurriedly tamped the coffee and inserted it into the slot, then let the machine do its magic. Not knowing where to turn my eyes, I accidently glanced in Giovanni’s direction and saw him tracing his lower lip.

Damn! What’s with him and his fingers always running along his lips? Does he know that action causes my heart to palpitate?

Flicking back to the coffee machine, I watched as the color changed from a golden dark brown to light gold. I took the purified coffee and poured milk into it. I couldn’t help but impress him with my coffee art. It was a swan, my favorite bird.

I squeezed my lips into a megawatt smile and was about to present the whole cup to him when—

Oh hell, how did my coffee end up on Giovanni’s pants? And why was there a dark stain on his groin area? What on earth did I do?

There was a growl from Giovanni like a beast had been unleashed from his chest, followed by the rushing of feet. I was in a flustered state, too. Apparently, in my nervous state, my knees had buckled and I’d thrown the entire cup of coffee at Giovanni.

Believe me. Although all that glaring really freaked me out, I didn’t have any intention of burning his groin area with my scalding hot coffee. I hoped his little sperm still worked. Poor thing if he couldn’t reproduce. No cute, captivating babies.

I grabbed a towel Bobby got from somewhere and threw it onto Giovanni’s private area, then smacked my hand on it, grinding it, rubbing it to remove all that excess liquid, but he only jumped up off the couch like he’d caught on fire.


What’s his problem? I was just trying to help.

So, I did help. I followed him, knees on the floor, hands busy rubbing that area clean, until he pushed me off.

“The fuck are you doing, you stupid girl? Get off me,” he growled and shook his legs free of my grasp.

Only then did I realize what I’d done. I was vigorously cleaning his private area. I shyly retracted my hands and gave him pleading puppy eyes.

I’m dead. I am so dead right now.

He stormed out the door.

Oh, shit! Did I piss him off that much?

I trembled, awaiting the verdict. The whole room was cloaked in silence. I didn’t dare move. It was Finnie who broke the silent.

“Since you’re here and don’t have much time left to live, make us some coffee.”

What? I didn’t expect that. But no, I was a smart girl. I wasn’t going to question them. I had a plan up my sleeve.

One after another, I made what they ordered. By the time they were sipping their drinks, I felt ecstatic. Perhaps if I were to continue to distract them, they’d forget what I’d done to that big boss and let me live.

I smiled at my possible future. But that smile died a sudden death when Giovanni reappeared with a new set of clothing, and oh my lord, did it made me drool. Hotness overload.

Which gym does he use? Let me sign up, too.

Giovanni was wearing slacks, a comfortable grey, and a black turtleneck with a light suit jacket. This guy sure knows how to dress himself. I didn’t dare look him in the eyes, though.

“Let’s taste that coffee, then,” he said coldly.

Again, that was pretty unexpected. Maybe these mafia people were kind after all.

I nodded like a shaggy dog and proceeded to give him a second cup. This time I made sure to walk slowly. And I mean really slow just so I wouldn’t spill a single drop.

“Do you want me to wait until the next century to drink that?”

I glanced up and walked a bit faster. Squeezing my lips into a tight smile, I presented him with my best work, again, another swan.

He blew the beverage gently.

I was hypnotized. Those lips, they’re really something.

He took a sip. I held my breath. Then he put it down.

That’s it. He’s not going to drink anymore. Am I going to die now?

“You can all go now.”

Is Giovanni talking to me?

Apparently not. He was addressing his underlings.

“I said you can all go now.”

They weren’t listening. They were blissfully sipping their coffee.

“The fuck is wrong with you all? Get out. Go do your jobs.” He slammed his fist on the wooden desk.

The guys immediately returned to earth and scurried off. One minute I was surrounded by four hunky dudes, and now I was left all alone with the beast, fending for myself.

It’s all right, Jenny. You’re smart. You can handle this.

“Sit.” He gestured when we were all alone.

I gracefully sat on the nearest couch, like a gentle-bred lady. Except my bottom didn’t even get to touch the soft cushion before he barked at me again.

“Not on the couch. On the floor.”

Sadistic, bossy brute, I cursed inside my head. But not wanting to die, I obeyed.

“This is your contract—”

“Contract?” I shot up, interrupting him. “Does that mean I don’t die?”

“If you interrupt me again, you will. Do I make myself clear?”

I didn’t respond.

“I said do I make myself clear?” Giovanni’s eye twitched. He glared at me, and a second later my eyes were filled with his face. He was exactly one inch from my eyes.

“I said do I make myself clear?” he repeated once more, each syllable coming out loud and clear; echoing around the room and into my ears, resonating into my heart.

“Clear as the sun on a cloudless day.” I swallowed, nodding.

“Now be a good servant and sit back down.”

I mumbled another curse under my breath and sat on the floor again.

Giovanni went to sit on the nearest couch and folded his legs like the big boss he was. He tossed a glare at me and proceeded to outline my role.


“You are my servant, Jay. And most importantly, you will be my coffee machine. Whenever I want one, you will make one for me. You must be available twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.”

“Excuse me!” I shot up from the floor again and stood my ground.

Giovanni was a little startled at my sudden movement. He blinked a few times, but then he composed himself again. That Adonis statue. That’s what I’m going to nickname him from now on.

“But wouldn’t that be going against employee rights? You can’t demand me to make you coffee twenty-four hours a day. I need to go to school. I need to sleep.”

“Unless you want me to cut your body up into little pieces and grind it in the coffee machine, then I require my coffee twenty-four-seven. Which do you choose? Being the coffee bean or making the coffee?”

I swallowed again. That was an easy choice. I didn’t need to think. I grinned and flashed him my best smile. “I’m happy to be your servant and your coffee machine. Just call me anytime. Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.”

“Very good.” He was about to turn away when I intercepted him, jumping right in his path.

“Can I ask how much Pa owes you? So I know how long I’m supposed to be in service to you.”

“Three million.”

Upon hearing his answer, my eyes rolled back and I crumpled into a dead lump on the couch.

* * *

“You’re useless. Utterly useless. Why are you still sleeping? Get up.”

I was already wide awake from his yelling, but I didn’t listen to him. I was still mulling over the notion of why Pa had abandoned me.

Three million dollars. What in the eggshell did he do with all that money? And why must I be the collateral? I have to go to school, too. Doesn’t he know that? And where has Amelia gone to? Ahh. I can’t wait to find him. When I do, I’ll give him an earful for sure.

“I said get up. Don’t pretend to faint,” he growled, and in the next second, a cushion smacked me right in the face.


I got up slowly and followed Giovanni as he took me around the mansion, explaining what kind of jobs I’d have to do during my stay as a maid here. Although, most of the time, I just stood admiring his tall, lean form.

Hotness overload. Totally captivating. This guy really was the epitome of perfection. From where I stood, he looked to be about six feet one. Such a tall man. I was so jealous. I looked like a midget standing next to him with my five-foot-two status.

Finally, after touring the whole house, or should I say mansion, he decided to take me to see his bedroom, since it would be my duty to clean his room. And his bedroom was huge. It was the size of our whole house. And when I saw his bed, I gaped.

Is this how rich people live? With a king-size bed fit for a... well, king?

I paced around the bed, mesmerized, feeling the soft fabric between my fingers. Oh, it’s pure silk. What a rich bastard. I want to sleep on this bed, too.

“Oh, boss, your bed feels so nice.” I rubbed my palm on his pillowcase. In all my life, I’d never touched material this rich before.

I hadn’t a clue how Giovanni saw me at that moment. I was enjoying my fantasy of sleeping on that bed too much, and I didn’t realize I messed up his bed sheets until a soft cough startled me.

“Ah, boss, I’m so sorry. I mussed up your bed. I’ll tidy it.” I flipped out.

But Giovanni still didn’t say a word. He just observed me as if I were an object on display. He looked as if he were lost in another world altogether.

“Ah, boss.” I waved my hand in front of his face to check his response.

“What?” he shouted, freaking the soul out of me.

“You’re staring at me,” I muttered.

Giovanni blinked, then shook his head. “Let’s go to your bedroom.”

My bedroom. Finally. My legs are about to cave in already. The first thing I’m going to do is jump on the bed and rest my feet.

“This is your room.” Giovanni led me to a—

What the hell is this? Why is he opening the door to the hallway closet?

“We’re in a closet,” I said stupidly, looking around the tiny room with a small cot on the far wall. “Why are we in a closet?”


“It’s your bedroom.”

I was gob smacked.

“Come on. I’m an award-winning barista. I deserve better than to live in a closet,” I argued.

“You’re a coffee machine and my maid. You’re staying in the closet.”

“I don’t think I can get used to this. Can’t I live in a normal room?” I bargained, tilting my head back to give him my puppy dog pleading eyes.

“No. Get used to it.” He blinked, then shook his head again. “You’ll be living here until every last cent is paid.” And then he strode across the room like a male model on a catwalk, slamming the door so it rattled on its hinges.

Why must he always be so dramatic when he enters and exits the room? Tsk. That Adonis with few words. Just wait. I’d make him such delicious coffee that he wouldn’t be able to drink another coffee again. And then when he was so sucked in, I’d bargain for my freedom.

Ha-ha. I grinned an evil smile. I couldn’t wait for that day.

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© 2020 by Wanitta Praks


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