Silence suffocated the air as Donato, the eldest son of the most dangerous mafia king, stood at the corner of the lounge watching his father, Morano, who sat dominantly with a stern face.
He parted his lips and said, "I want Luca to get married to one of the maids working for us since I didn't see a reasonable lady around Luca," he said firmly.
Morano, who sat elegantly in his dimly lit bedroom, turned to face his son with a raised brow, clearly caught off guard.
"Why would you bring up such a suggestion?" he asked slowly, his tone stern and questioning.
Donato stepped forward. "You know it's our family tradition — as the first son, I have the right to choose a bride for my younger brother. And I've made my decision. Luca isn't getting any younger."
Morano leaned back slightly, intrigued now, as he glared at his son, perplexed. It was true Luca wasn't getting younger, but doesn't this feel so sudden?
"So which maid are you planning on marrying him to?"
"There's a girl," Donato continued. "A maid. She's beautiful, graceful… she caught my eye the moment I saw her. I believe she's the right one for Luca."
The older man was quiet for a moment before nodding. "Alright then. We'll speak to Luca during dinner tonight. Does that work for you?"
He didn't want to snatch the right of deciding from his eldest son. His mansion had been quiet for some time now, and his heart was at peace.
"Yes, Father. Thank you." Donato bowed slightly, showing his respect, before exiting the room.
Unknown to them, their conversation was heard by a maid, which was Alessia. She had only gone to drop a laundry basket when the voices pulled her attention. Her eyes widened in disbelief at the shocking revelation.
One of the maids? Married into the Morano family? she thought breathlessly. I have to tell Daisy!
She ran hastily towards the kitchen, her long, thick brown hair bouncing against her back as she rushed off in excitement.
Luca was known for his charming look, and the most handsome son among the Mafia's sons. A devastating combination of wealth, looks, and danger. Women were drawn to him like moths to a flame. Almost every other night, he was seen with a different woman, whisking them into luxury hotels or having drinks poured in dimly lit lounges that knew him too well.
Sometimes, he'd come back home reeking of whiskey and perfume, his shirt half-buttoned, his tie loose, eyes tired but still burning with that familiar arrogance. At home, two particular women made themselves regulars — glamorous, bold, and overly confident. They often introduced themselves as just friends of Luca whenever anyone asked.
But Alessia knew better.
She had been serving as Luca's personal maid for eight years now. She had been serving the Morano family for years now — eight long, quiet years under the command of the Mafia's most powerful name. Her presence in their household wasn't by choice, but by blood-debt. Her father had owed the mafia boss Morano, the feared patriarch of the family, a large sum of money. A debt he couldn't repay before his untimely death.
With no means left to settle what was owed, Alessia was taken in under a binding agreement. She would serve the Moranos for ten full years in exchange for her father's freedom from the grave.
It was a cruel but legal deal in their world. A life given in place of a debt unpaid.
Now, with eight years behind her and only two more to go, Alessia counted each day with a quiet resolve. Her only dream was freedom — to walk out of the Morano mansion and never look back, never have to serve anyone again. But until then, she stayed silent, composed, and watchful — knowing too well that in a house like this, one wrong step could cost her far more than just her remaining years.
She was quiet, observant. She never said a word to interfere in others' affairs. She had seen and heard enough to know what these women around Luca really were to him. Lovers? Maybe. Temporary distractions? Definitely.
They, in turn, despised Alessia.
"You're not just a maid," one of them snapped one morning, standing in the kitchen with a steaming mug of coffee in hand, staring at Alessia with disgust.
"With those curves and that perfect, snow-white skin? Please. Don't act like we're stupid," another lady cut in, snapping at Alessia.
"Exactly," the other chimed in with a smirk. "The way Luca looks at you? It's obvious. The staring, the smirking — you enjoy it, don't you?"
Alessia kept her posture straight, her tone calm yet cold.
"Whatever you think is going on, isn't. I serve in this house, that's all I do," she replied, her voice steady, trying so hard not to snap at them.
One of the ladies laughed. "Good. Then you won't mind if we stay the night, again."
Alessia stared at the lady and gave a soft, practiced smile. "Suit yourselves. I'm not the one who needs to feel threatened."
But as she walked away, she saw Luca standing at the hallway, his eyes nakedly laced on her, lingering a little too long — just like always.
The kitchen was warm and bustling with the scent of butter, herbs, and sizzling meat. Daisy, the personal maid to Lady Lauretta Morano, stood near the stove, about to sneak a taste of the chicken sauce simmering in the pot.
She dipped a spoon in quickly, just as Alessia burst in.
"Daisy!" Alessia cried.
Daisy nearly jumped out of her skin, the spoon clattering into the pot.
"God! Alessia! You scared me! I thought it was Madam Lauretta coming to catch me red-handed," she said, holding her chest. "You know I'm not supposed to taste the food!"
"I'm sorry!" Alessia laughed breathlessly. "But I heard something — something big!"
Daisy's eyes narrowed curiously. "What is it?"
Alessia stepped closer and whispered, "I overheard Donato and his father talking. Donato wants Luca to marry one of us. One of the maids!"
Daisy gasped, eyes wide. "What? Are you serious?"
"I swear! He said he already has someone in mind. A beautiful girl."
Daisy blinked, and for a moment, her expression shifted — from surprise to smug delight. "Do you think it's me?" she asked, placing a hand over her chest dramatically. "I mean… I do serve Lady Lauretta closely. Maybe Donato noticed me."
Alessia blinked. "You think it's you?"
Daisy smiled, dreamy-eyed. "Why not? I've caught Donato staring at me once or twice. Maybe he told Luca. Or maybe Luca noticed me himself. Either way… oh, my God. What if I become the next Morano bride?!"
Alessia chuckled awkwardly but didn't argue. She didn't want to burst her friend's fantasy, even if something in her gut told her Daisy might be wrong.
That evening, Alessia prepared Luca's dinner and made her way down the long hallway toward his room. Her steps slowed as she approached his door, soft instrumental music playing faintly behind it.
She balanced the silver tray in one hand and knocked gently.
"Sir? It's Alessia. I brought your food."
No answer.
She knocked again. "Sir?"
Still nothing — only the low thump of music.
After a pause, she nervously reached for the handle and turned it.
Click.
The door creaked open.
She stepped inside.
Then froze.
Luca stood in front of the mirror, shirtless, his toned muscles bathed in the dim golden light of his room. But that wasn't what stunned her. His pants were pushed halfway down, and his hand was wrapped firmly around his huge, aroused d*ck, stroking himself slowly, rhythmically.
He groaned softly, his head tilted back, eyes half-shut in pleasure.
His other hand held a jar of cream and oil — he dipped his fingers and rubbed it along his length, sliding smoothly over his skin.
"Ohhh… fuck…" he muttered slowly, with his eyes half closed, completely to himself, unaware that someone had entered.
Alessia stood there, frozen. Her breath hitched. Her mouth dropped open in pure shock.
Crash…
The tray of food slipped from her trembling hands and hit the floor, the dishes clattering and shattering across the marble tiles.
Luca's eyes flew open.
Their eyes met.
He froze, hand still on his huge d*ck.
Alessia, mouth agape, tried to speak, but nothing came out...