The Mafia King’s Doll

Samantha

Preparing a cup of coffee for Mr. Vitale, I can’t stop thinking about last night.

It went so much better than I expected.

A smile plays around my mouth as I place the cup and two cookies on a tray.

Even though the evening started off rocky, it ended on a high note. I spent over two hours with a man, and not once did I feel panicky.

I’m on the right track, and I’m confident I’ll be able to regain my trust in men with the help of my mystery man.

Obviously, I’ll always be cautious when dating, and I’m not just going to allow anyone into my life.

But this is a good start, and where I would usually feel depressed after a panic attack, I feel optimistic.

Carrying the tray to Mr. Vitale’s office, I set it down on the corner of his desk before heading back to my desk.

I’m bracing myself for Mr. Vitale’s anger because I snooped around in his house, but I have an apology ready.

Just as I reach my chair, Mr. Vitale comes down the hallway. Today, he’s dressed in a dark blue suit, and as always, the man looks way too handsome for his own good.

The usual nervousness I feel around my boss spins in my stomach as I say, “Morning, sir.”

He doesn’t even look at me as he mutters, “Morning.”

I watch Mr. Vitale disappear into his office and follow him inside. “I just want to apologize for last night. You have a beautiful home.”

“Close the door on your way out.” Asshole. It’s not like I committed a crime. I think.

Suppressing a huff, I shut the door behind me and take a seat at my desk. Within seconds, my inbox is bombarded with emails from my grumpy boss, and I get to work.

Fine, so I invaded his privacy a little. I said I’m sorry and I won’t do it again.

Letting out the huff that’s been impatiently waiting, I focus on my work so I can stay one step ahead of my boss.

The morning flies by at the speed of light, and before I know it, it’s lunchtime.

Dialing Mr. Vitale’s extension, I wait for him to grunt like he always does, then ask, “What would you like to eat, sir?”

“You can choose today,” he replies.

Really?

“Pizza?”

“Sure.”

He hangs up on me, but I couldn’t care less because I’m getting my favorite takeout, and the company is paying for it.

I place an order for two pizzas, asking for all the toppings and extra cheese.

While waiting for our lunch to arrive, I dart between my desk and the boardroom, where I’m preparing everything for tomorrow’s meeting.

When our food arrives, I grab a plate from the kitchenette and place four slices on it. Adding a bottle of water to the tray, I carry the meal to Mr.

Vitale’s office and knock before I open the door.

Placing the tray on his desk, I say, “I hope four slices are enough. Just let me know if you’d like more pizza.”

“Thanks.”

My mouth drops open, and I blink at the man as if he’s lost his mind.

Did I just hear a thank you?

He gives me a dark glare when he notices I’m gaping at him. “You can leave, Miss Blakely.”

Nodding, I hurry out of the office, and once I’ve shut the door behind me, I grin like an idiot.

And here I was thinking miracles don’t happen anymore.All rights © NôvelDrama.Org.

Franco

Having Samantha stare at me with a stunned expression just because I thanked her makes me feel like a dick.

Can you blame me, though? I went through years of shitty assistants, and having one that actually does her job is new to me.

Just don’t get too friendly with her.

I don’t want Samantha to put two and two together and realize I’m her mystery man.

Picking up a slice of pizza, a smile tugs at the corner of my mouth as my thoughts turn to last night.

I didn’t lie when I told her I enjoyed spending time with her. Seeing Samantha away from the office showed me a different side to her.

For some unknown reason, I like the idea that she’s a wildcat here and a wounded kitten at Paradiso.

Remembering how startled she was when I ran into her at my house, my mood sours a little.

Marcello is always at my place with a group of guards, and now that I’m sure Samantha has a problem being around men, I understand why she ran out of the house.

I’ll never send her to collect my dry cleaning again.

I eat my lunch, and when Samantha comes in to collect the tray, I keep my eyes locked on the documents in front of me.

As she turns to leave, I mutter, “You can go home at five but be here at seven tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.”

Once the door shuts behind her, I lean back in my chair and tap my fingers on the desk.

Why am I even doing this? Nothing good can come from spending time with Samantha.

Even though I have legitimate businesses, I’m still a criminal. I don’t think being one of the heads of the Cosa Nostra will carry any weight with Samantha.

And even if it did, it doesn’t matter because I don’t plan on dating my

PA.

I agreed to spend time with her because she’s paid a steep price to be a

member at Paradiso.

Yeah, that’s the only reason I’m doing this.

Shaking my head, I get up from the chair and grab my jacket. Pulling it on, I stalk to the door, and leaving my office, I growl to Samantha, “I’ll be out for the rest of the day.”

“Oh. Should I cancel your four o’clock appointment?” “Yes.”

I head to the elevators, and only when I climb into the back seat of the G-Wagon do I feel less agitated.

“Where to boss?” Milo asks. “The factory.”

I’d rather check that the new printers I got a couple of months ago are printing high-quality counterfeit bills so I can get some time away from Samantha.

During the drive to the factory, Lorenzo is quiet as always while Milo hums to a country song playing on the radio.

I think spending less time at Vitale Health and more time at my other companies will be a wise move on my part. At least until Samantha doesn’t need to meet with me at Paradiso anymore.

It will be safer that way.

For who? You or Samantha?

“You okay, boss?” Milo asks.

I’m pulled out of my thoughts and just nod in answer to his question. “Did you fire the new PA?” he asks another question.

“No, Milo,” I mutter. “I’m just thinking about work.” “Anything we can help with?”

I shake my head. “No.”

Letting out a sigh, I glance out of the window.

Last night, when I got to be anonymous and just hang out with Samantha, it shined a huge spotlight on how busy I’ve been the past ten years.

I haven’t had a serious relationship since I graduated from school, and I can’t even remember when I last fucked a woman.

The Cosa Nostra and my companies take up all of my time. I’m not the most social person, but relaxing with Samantha was enjoyable.

Why am I obsessing over this? I’m not dating the woman. She gets to work through her issues, and I get to relax. It’s a fucking win-win for both of us.

Annoyed with myself, I let out a huff, and it earns me a glance from Milo in the rearview mirror.

“I’m fine,” I snap before he can open his mouth.

“Sure. You keep telling yourself that,” he mumbles under his breath. “Don’t make me shoot you,” I warn him.

“Please. I beg you. Shoot him and put me out of my misery,” Lorenzo suddenly says. “I can’t stand his constant humming to country songs.”

Milo scowls at Lorenzo. “Hey, don’t insult my taste in music.”

Listening to the two men argue about country music, of all things, I let out a sigh and shake my head, but I’m thankful for Lorenzo changing the subject.