The Maid: Mafia Romance (Series)

The Battle Begins…

Giovanni viewed his opponent, Nikolas Lorenzo, with glee. How fucking long had it been since he had a chance to put his fighting skills to good use. Too fucking long if he had any say it in. He was once called the best fighter in the whole underground world. Now, not so much.

These days, since slowly crawling out of the mafia world, all he did was paperwork and negotiation. He missed those days when he got to stretch his fingers, smash jaws, and break bones. Tonight’s tournament, he’d surely enjoy every moment of it.

Except the first punch took him by surprise, knocking the fuck out of his lungs. He spattered, spraying blood. “Fuck! Lorenzo, you fucking bastard. You dare start before the bell?”

The cocky bastard cocked his head to the side and snarled at him. “Have I ever played by the rules?”

Giovanni was vibrating with anger. The temptation too hard to resist, he aimed one right back at him, straight in the abdomen. Lorenzo buckled, and Giovanni smiled in glee when he saw the guy was struggling to get up.

“Don’t fucking play me,” he spat at Lorenzo.

Lorenzo lifted his head up and charged back at him again. Giovanni wrapped his fist and took a punch, right at the side of his temple, before Lorenzo got knocked down on the floor again.Content property of NôvelDra/ma.Org.

Fuck Lorenzo! He was like a fucking rabid dog, not letting go once he’d taken a bite. He kept on coming at him, but Giovanni was faster, taking him in the jaw and another in the temple again. The guy was truly worthy as his opponent. He was so fucking fierce; it was like he was out there to take revenge. And here Giovanni had thought this was just a warm-up. The fucking bastard.

Did he want to take revenge on him? Giovanni knew he didn’t do anything to Lorenzo. Unless it had something to do with that news.

Fuck! He’d heard the rumor. Nothing in the underground world could get past his ears, not even a fly trying to buzz by. And when he heard of Lorenzo’s kid brother taking his own life, it was like a fucking fiasco. Lorenzo went batshit crazy.

But Giovanni didn’t do anything to Lorenzo’s kid brother. Fuck, he didn’t even know Lorenzo had a kid brother, until he heard of the news four months ago.

So what? Tough shit. Big deal. Just because his kid brother had died, Lorenzo wanted to take out his anger on someone. And just because Giovanni had happened to be there at the right time and place, he was the target? Well, tough shit. Lorenzo better get with the program. Cuz he won’t see what’s coming if he stuck to this route. Giovanni would be sure to teach him a lesson worth learning. Don’t fucking mess with his people. So what if Lorenzo was so fucking depressed? What gave him the right to decide he had to fuck other’s lives as well. Everyone inside this arena knew how fucked up one’s life could be when one’s involved in the mafia world. You either had to fight to survive or die trying. Although once you got to the top, you could try to reform, change things slowly. And that’s what he’s been trying to do, stick to his motto, no more killing, but damn Lorenzo was proving to be too irresistible that sometimes he wanted to slip back to having blood on his hands. Every so often, the man would send him little clues, like they were playing a game of hide and seek. Like Lorenzo kidnapping Jay, for example. That was done to spite him for sure. And he fucking hated it, this game of cat and mouse they were playing. He was too fucking old to deal with that shit.

Their history wasn’t always that unpleasant. Despite the different locations they operated, the Lorenzo clan was part of Dente’s affiliates. They were meant to cooperate, trade deal secrets, help each other out to fight against the other bigger groups who wanted to dominate their areas, but since Nikolas Lorenzo had taken over as head leader, he’d fucked up. And fucked his group badly, too. Chicago wasn’t enough. Lorenzo wanted to dominate Las Vegas, too.

Shit! Giovanni knew Lorenzo had a loose screw somewhere, but now he realized even a year’s worth of therapy wouldn’t right the bastard’s brain again. Lorenzo was beyond repair. And right then, he felt sorry for Amelia.

His eyes fell on Jay’s sister. She was seated between two of Lorenzo’s trusted members: a blond bombshell who he was sure lured her way into Lorenzo’s bed, just to get to that status, and his right-hand man.

Giovanni didn’t know how to feel about all of this. He knew Lorenzo was capable of anything, and he was sure Lorenzo had fucked Amelia up so bad, the girl would need at least a year’s worth of therapy to get over this ordeal. And hopefully she’d be healed, because Amelia must have had it tough. Everyone in the underground world knew how hot-blooded Lorenzo was. He’d bashed and smashed anything or anyone who stood in his way. And the opposite extreme could also be held true. The guy was more cold-blooded than any Mafioso he knew, killing people with no mercy.

Amelia needed saving. He’d make sure of that. Tonight, he’d get Amelia out of this hellhole. Although a big portion of his motivation was Jay. She had begged him, knees on the floor, eyes shedding tears, and who could fucking resist that doe-eyed woman. She looked so fucking miserable and sad, he’d just wanted to take the reins in his hands and right this fucked-up world again. Because this fight tonight, when he did win, it would all be worth it, to see his beloved smile again.

His eyes fell on his lover, and his world completely stopped. Jay was spewing her eyes out, crying like he’d met death’s door.

He gritted his teeth in frustration. This wasn’t supposed to be like this. Fuck him! Why the fuck did he let Jay witness his fight. He knew it wasn’t some fancy costume party or a show at the opera. This was a fierce fight, blood, guts and gore, but nothing to the extreme where one could die. But Jay had never properly witnessed men fight before. And who was to blame but himself. His heart twisted in pain at seeing her miserable face. And before Lorenzo saw the opportunity to exact a punch back at him, he shouted, “Time out!” The battle stopped.

Giovanni shouted from across the platform. “Jay. Come here.” And instantly, his girl made her way to him. And as soon as she got within arm’s reach, he threaded his fingers behind her head and brought her face so close to his, he saw her crystal wet eyes. “Why the fuck are you crying?”

And just when she was about to reply, he slammed his mouth on hers, swallowing those words at the tip of her lips. He wanted her to feel him, this visceral feeling he had for her. He was alive and well. He wasn’t dead yet. And he made sure he’d survive to hug her, love her, and care for her. He released her and watched as she chewed her lips, one hand gently palming his cheek.

“Gio, do you really have to fight?” Her lips wobbled, and he had to fight the urge to kiss the fuck out of her swollen lips again.

“If you’re worried about whether I’m going to die, don’t. Now stop crying.” He gently wiped her tears and smacked his lips on her forehead, before sliding his lips to the edge of her ear and whispering hoarsely, “I’ll make sure you get your sister out of here. I promise.”

She jumped up and wrapped her arms around his neck, almost knocking out his breath and making him lose balance. But he was quick, balancing himself before he made a fool of himself with Lorenzo as his onlooker, because letting Lorenzo seeing this side of him was fucking embarrassing.

But to Jay, he’d lose his hard mafia boss exterior anytime. His girl was so spontaneous and robust, he knew he would never get used to her. And he didn’t want to get used to her, because each day she would bring him joy, surprising him with ways to make him laugh, and God’s know how fucked up life could be when one was associated in the mafia world. Life should be fun. And Jay brought the word fun into his life.

“I love you, Gio,” she said to him in her sweet voice. “Please don’t get hurt.”

And that was enough incentive to knock the shit out of Lorenzo, because there was no way he was going home empty-handed.

“Love you, too, my beloved,” he replied, trying to refrain himself from jumping her bones right there. He gave her a smirk and watched, pleased when Dawson dragged her back to their seats.

He was glad his friends took it upon themselves to protect his girl. Especially against those leeches and hyenas who seemed to eye her like a piece of meat. If they dare touch Jay, even just a strand of her hair, they’d better pray that hell would have mercy on them.

“Why do you even bother?” Lorenzo’s taunting voice mocked him, dragging his mind back to reality.

“What do you fucking mean?” Giovanni gave him the stink eye.

“You don’t even know Amelia. Why do you want to save her so much?” Lorenzo drawled out.

Having known Lorenzo’s weakest spot, Giovanni bit him where it hurt most. “Because that woman is the sister of the girl I love,” he said. “Clearly, that makes her a part of my family. Something which you are not capable of ever knowing again.”

And Lorenzo took the bait, retaliating at a fierce pace, his blue eyes so intense, they turned dark.

“Fuck you, Giovanni,” Lorenzo spat out and took aim at Giovanni, but Giovanni was faster, his fist already coming from the side, knocking Lorenzo on the temple.

Lorenzo huffed and heaved, his eyes heavy. And just when Giovanni was about to take another punch, Lorenzo used the ‘time out’ card.

Giovanni grumbled and went to sit at the side bench, irritated that Lorenzo had used this card. What the fuck for? What shit was he playing at?

Sweat was pouring down his forehead and temple and for that small moment he was kind of glad Lorenzo had asked for that time out because at least he could rest a bit and restore his energy before plummeting Lorenzo to a pulp again. Although being the arrogant man he was, he’d never admit to such a feat.

Bobby came approaching fast, bringing with him a cloth towel to wipe at the sweat dripping from his brow. Giovanni eyed his lover, Jay, who was watching him from the sideline, and he gave her a thumbs-up and a smile. She looked a bit better, her face less pale, her eyes less wet. She’d even returned a smile back at him, just to cheer him up, when suddenly her facial expression changed and she stood up, her face pasted in horror. He followed her line of vision and saw Lorenzo taking off with Amelia behind him.

What the fuck! He knew Lorenzo wasn’t to be trusted.

Giovanni took off fast, jumping over the ring barrier and fast approaching Lorenzo who had disappeared around the corner with Amelia, when a few of Lorenzo’s guards blocked his way.

“Get out of my way. Your fucking boss is not playing by the rules again. Amelia’s fate still hadn’t been decided yet. Why the fuck did he take her away?” Giovanni growled.

“Boss said he just needed to talk to her.” One of the guards answered back. Giovanni wasn’t used to people questioning his authority, and clearly this was pissing him off.

“If he wanted to talk to her, he couldn’t have just asked her to speak in the arena,” he shouted right back. “Getting out of the ring is clearly against the rules.”

“If you could give Boss just a minute or two. He won’t be long with Miss Amelia.”

“Are you fucking kidding me. I don’t have all night to fucking wait around for him. Tell him to get his ugly mug back here so we can finish this battle-”

“Calm your hot ass, Giovanni,” Lorenzo said from around the corner. And then he saw Amelia right behind him, her face looking placid, before she walked back to her seat.

Something was up. And he was super curious.

“Are you going to come up here so we can end our battle tonight, or do you want to wait until tomorrow because I ain’t got no fucking time for that.” Lorenzo used his own words against him. The bastard.

“Shut the fuck up, Lorenzo. You are such a fucking cocky bastard. All talk and no play. I’ll show you who’s the winner tonight.”

And he climbed back up into the ring, and they fought. And, man, was Lorenzo a damn good fighter. Giovanni clearly had underestimated his ability. He was truly worthy of his opponent. Giovanni was already feeling fucking sore, and if they went on any longer, he’d be black and blue by tomorrow. But things took a drastic turn when after so many successful punches, Lorenzo just stopped fighting. He just stood there, allowing Giovanni to use him like a punching bag.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Giovanni growled in anger and frustration at the turn of events. “What are you trying to play now? Why aren’t you fighting back?”

“What is there worth fighting for, Giovanni? You tell me,” Lorenzo cocked his head to the side again, his eyes looking a bit wet.

Fuck! Was he seeing things? Lorenzo, the cold-blooded mafia boss of the Lorenzo clan, who never had an ounce of mercy in his blood, actually cried.

“To earn a girl her freedom,” Giovanni barked back with vigor.

“Exactly.” And Lorenzo smiled, that straight look on his face again before dropping his hands to the sides, and he announced, “I surrender. You win.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me?”

“I’m not kidding.” Lorenzo’s voice turned cold, and Giovanni knew right then that Lorenzo meant business. “Take her before I change my mind.”

Those words were meant for him to hear only.

And when Giovanni didn’t move, Lorenzo shouted at him. “I said you win. Take Amelia. Before I change my mind and never let her go again.”

“Don’t say I didn’t win fair and square,” Giovanni said, signaling Bobby to bring the bags over.

Bobby trotted over, caring three large bags filled with money. Giovanni tossed the bags over to Lorenzo, the heavy bags landing in a pool around Lorenzo’s feet.

“I’m paying for her freedom. Ten million, as you have asked for,” Giovanni said. “You no longer have any rights over her.”

Giovanni knew what he was saying. He did this on purpose, trying to provoke Lorenzo to get a response, but the man didn’t show any. His eyes were downcast, staring at the floor. His body slumped forward, as if all the energy had left his body. Lorenzo resembled a man who no longer had the will to live. And Giovanni had come to the startling conclusion that Lorenzo had permanently turned sick.