2

Diana’s POV

I shouldn’t have said his name. No one addresses him by his name.

I let out a shaky sigh, and with that small movement, the remaining button on my shirt loosens. The moment his gaze drops to my chest, my heart slams painfully against my ribs. I quickly tug the fabric together and fasten it with trembling fingers.

“I’m sorry, Master,” I said quietly. “It was a mistake.”

My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. The menu slipped. Then the pen. Both hit the floor. I crouched to grab them, painfully aware that he hadn’t said a single word. His silence was worse than any threat.

When I straightened, his eyes were still fixed on me. I couldn’t tell if he was angry, amused, or simply waiting for me to make another mistake.

“May I take your order?” I asked, my voice barely steady.

He still said nothing.

Thankfully, one of his guards cleared his throat and broke the silence for me. Though he was dressed differently from the guards, maybe a friend, maybe someone higher than the guards.

“Five plates of escalope with fries. Add wings.”

I nodded quickly, relief and humiliation swirling together.

“Okay,” I said quickly and turned to leave, almost tripping as I rushed away.

I handed the menu to Amara.

“Girl, I think he loves you,” Amara said as she fetched the food.

I quickly turned to look at her.

"Because how the hell will you call his name and he didn’t kill you? Besides, saying that would’ve made the guards angry, and they would’ve killed you in a second. But they didn’t, which means they know their master is in love with you.”

“Can you stop this rubbish, Amara?”

That doesn’t make sense. I will never trust any man again.

Much less someone I’m older than.

If I’m not mistaken, he celebrated his 21st birthday last month.

I’m 31 and he’s 21. I’m not his match in age.

"I know you’re thinking about age, Diana, but believe me, every single lady in this country wants this opportunity.”

“It’s okay, please,” I snapped at her because this discussion was becoming nonsense—based on something she just guessed which is not real.

“Whatever.” Amara rolled her eyes.

“How I wish I’d be among the girls he sleeps with every day,” she added as she finished packing the food.

That last thing she said made me hate him even more.

Amara handed me the food. I looked at her from up to down.

“It’s obvious you’re stupid. I did my job. You’re the one to deliver the food.”

“What? I should deliver it? You want me to be killed?”

“Oh, so it’s me you want killed?”

I checked the clock on the wall. It was already 11 p.m.

I needed to go pick up my child.

I should be home by 10 p.m. but now here I am.

How did this happen? Where did I waste more time?

I know Madam won’t let me go.

“Okay, I’m coming. Let me go ease myself,” I said to Amara, because if I tell her I am going home, she’d run to Madam immediately and inform her.

I used the back door and left.

I went to the hotel where Leo stays. Leo is like a brother to me.

I always keep Ayla with him when I am going to work and pick her up afterward.

I saw him sitting at the hotel gate.

“Good evening, Leo.”

“You’re late today,” Leo said, staring at me from up to down with a sad expression.

“How I wish I were a rich man. I would take care of you and your child without you involving yourself in this disgusting work.”

“Don’t worry, I’m okay,” I said as I walked past him to his room on the third floor.

Ayla was sleeping peacefully on the bed.

How I wish she could have a better life, I whispered to myself before picking her up in my arms.

I stopped a cab and went straight to my little world—home.

It is just a one-bedroom flat with a kitchen and bathroom.

I went straight to the room to lay Ayla down, but she woke up.

“Mom, good evening.”

“Evening, my dear. How was your day at school?”

“Mom, I’m good, but my day went wrong. I’ve been waiting for you and you didn’t come. Why did you stay long? Mom, my heart is beating faster these days, like something is going to happen to you,” she said with tears in her eyes.

“Oh baby, stop crying. I promise I won’t stay long anymore, so you won’t think I’m in danger,” I said as I wiped her tears.

Ayla nodded and smiled, and that made me smile too.

“Have you eaten?”

“No.”

“Why? Uncle Leo didn’t give you food?”

“He gave me, but I couldn’t eat because you weren’t back.”

“Okay, let’s eat,” I said as I went to the kitchen and picked up a tray.

I removed the pani puri I always buy from the Indian man on my way home.

His food is cheap, and since my monthly salary finishes quickly, he gives me some on credit.

I hate how they only pay us at month-end.

The pani puri were six. I took three and kept the remaining three in the cooler for tomorrow morning for Ayla to eat before school.

As usual, I ate one and she ate two.

Ayla has stopped asking why I always eat so little because I always tell her the same thing—I’m not hungry, I can only eat a small amount.

After finishing, I prepared her for bed and I went to the toilet to bath. As usual, every time I take my bath, I feel sexually aroused, and it's because of my sensitive, leaking breast.

No matter how I touch it, I must feel that, and there's no way I will bath without me touching the breast.

I tried a pump to always pump the milk if that will help in reducing the milk, but it's getting worse because it always makes me feel like it's being sucked, and within a second, I will be completely wet.

I don't know if this is normal, but I do get an orgasm from only squeezing the milk out.

Just as I finished and was about to go out, I remembered the milk from Alessandro, which didn't taste like a real milk.

I was about to taste my breast milk but stopped as my mind told me I must be very silly to think that he drank a breast milk.

******

Alessandro's POV

The first day I saw that lady, she stole my heart.

Not only my heart—she stole everything from me.

Even my cock. Lol.

It’s weird that it doesn’t react to the other girls I sleep with anymore.

It only throbs when I see her.

I was about to go home when I saw a man talking to her, asking her to follow him to his house tonight. That turned me off. I killed him immediately.

She is so sweet when I kiss her.

I know she must be confused by now about what type of milk did I give her.

I'm not tired of seeing her, so I followed her to where she works in a restaurant.

Everything about her body is blooming, sexy.

I couldn’t control myself from looking at her.

Especially those boobs that were exposed… I was undressing her with my eyes.

When she called my name,

“Alessandro Moretti,”

God, it sounded so sweet coming from her mouth.

She was talking, but I wasn’t listening. I was imagining her on my bed.

When the food was brought, she wasn’t the one who brought it.

I asked my friend Alex—who is now like a brother to me—to ask them where she went.

And they said she left.

I almost cursed myself.

Shit. I scared her.

I watched as Alex and the guards ate, but I can't.

I only eat food in the morning and milk the remaining hours.

And now I'm very sure she’s the only one I want to eat as my morning food.

The only food I need now is her. To eat her up.

Damn it.

“Alex, I want information about her,” I said as I went through my phone.

Without wasting time, he brought out his laptop and started typing.

Within a minute:

“Name: Diana Anthony.

Age: 31.”

“What?” I snapped.

“Thirty-one… how?”

“That’s the age here.”

“Okay, go on.”

“Status: Single mom.

She has a daughter, 10 years old, named Ayla.

No information about her parents or siblings.”

Wow. Thirty-one years with such a body and beauty.

She has a ten-year-old kid, meaning she gave birth at 21.

Lol.

My age at that time I was 11.

“Check who her ex-husband is,” I said, and Alex nodded.

“The information here shows she’s been single her whole life.”

“Oh.”

That’s all I said.

A dancer in a club like that… it’s obvious she doesn’t even know the father of the child.

“Mtswww.” I hissed.

“So out of all the ladies—the daughters of the rich, the daughters of other mafia bosses—you didn’t fall for any of them? Instead, you fell for this poor woman who’s getting older?” Alex said. It really provoked me. If he weren’t my friend, I would have killed him.

“Mind your tongue. She’s the one I want, and you don’t get to speak rubbish about her. If you do, I’ll punish you,” I snapped at him.

“Sorry, Master,” Alex said, bowing his head.

He knew he provoked me—and he knew exactly how it would end.

I started suffocating again. I reached for my glass.

Damn it.

The milk is finished.

I looked at the guards asking for another glass.

"We are sorry, master, we only brought one glass with us. We didn't know we will stay long like this."

I quickly stood up and headed to my car. If not, I will faint in less than 10 minutes if I didn't drink that.