LOGINDiana let out a long, exaggerated sigh, still slumped against the wall like her bones had given up on life.âI swearâŠâ she muttered, staring at the ceiling, âif I survive this place, I deserve a medal. Or a vacation. Or therapy. All three.âAlessia gave her a soft look, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised.âYouâre dramatic,â she said calmly.Diana turned her head slowly. âAnd youâre enabling me.âAlessia snorted. âGet up, drama queen. You still have work to do.âDiana groaned loudly but pushed herself up anyway, brushing off her clothes.âUgh. I hate this job already,â she muttered. âI mean, who made cleaning floors my personality?âAlessia chuckled lightly, then gently patted her shoulder.âCome on,â she said. âLetâs get you back to work before that boss of yours comes back and decides you need another âlesson.ââDiana froze mid-step.ââŠAnother what?âAlessia gave her a knowing look. âExactly.âDiana pointed at the door dramatically. âIâm filing a complaint with God. This is unacceptabl
Diana dragged the mop lazily across the floor, sweat on her brow and zero energy in her bones. âHuh⊠rich people and their shiny-ass floors,â she muttered, twisting the mop. âDo they even walk on this thing or just glide?â She puffed out air, wiped her forehead with her sleeve, and muttered again, âPhew⊠my whole body is crying. This is not cleaning. This is suffering with extra steps.â Just as she bent down to wring the mop again, her ears perked up. Voices then Whispers. Coming from one of the rooms down the hall. âHmm?â she stood upright slowly, narrowing her eyes like a suspicious raccoon. âWhoâs talkingâŠ?â Her curiosity took over. Like a cartoon character sneaking up to a cookie jar, she tiptoed toward the door, holding her breath. She leaned in and peeked through the tiny keyhole. Inside, she saw Raffaele and one of the guards. They were whispering intensely. ââŠThe shooting really messed things up,â Raffaele said, his voice low. âThe drugs were supposed to be
Vincenzo walked into the room and quietly shut the door behind him. His movements were quick, almost impatient, as he made his way over to where Alessia sat. He dropped beside her with a deep exhale, running a hand through his hair.âMom,â he began, his voice heavy, âthis is getting too much.âAlessia blinked at him, calm as ever.âEven though the maids donât know youâre my mother,â he continued, âyou brought them in here thinkingâwhat? That Iâd fall for one of them or something?âHe shook his head in disbelief.âBut as you can see,â he added, motioning loosely toward the door, âI donât like any of them.âAlessia smiled softly, almost knowingly, and reached for his hand. âSon,â she said gently, âitâs fine.âThen her eyes gleamed with something mischievous. âBesides⊠I think I already have a daughter-in-law.âVincenzo frowned instantly. âMom⊠youâre talking about Diana?âAlessia raised her brows, as if to say what do you think?âYou made me bring her in,â he muttered, his voice dipping
Alessia knelt gently beside Diana, her touch soft as she reached for her arm.âCome now, dear. Letâs get you cleaned up.âDiana blinked at her. Huh? She wasnât expecting... this kind of welcome. Especially not after being offered like livestock ten minutes ago.The woman helped her up, and thatâs when Diana noticedâshe wasnât just older... she was maybe in her late 50s. The gentle kind of woman youâd imagine bringing soup when youâre sick. Not working in a mafia mansion.âUm... thank you,â Diana said softly.Alessia smiled. âAww, poor child,â she whispered. âHmm... have you eaten yet?âDianaâs stomach twisted so loud it answered for her.She shook her head. âNo... I havenât.ââAh, I thought so,â Alessia nodded knowingly. âCome on, letâs get some food in you.âAs they walked, Diana glanced sideways at her. ââŠMaâam?âAlessia paused. âYou can just call me Alessia, sweet one. Iâm a maid. Just like you now.âDiana chuckled a little. âWell... nope. Youâre old enough to be my mom. I canât ju
Diana stumbled forward as one of the guards gave her a push. Her hands were still cuffed, the cold metal digging into her wrists. The masked manâher buyerâsat calmly in his seat, his legs crossed, fingers laced together. On either side of him, two guards stood like statues, waiting for his next command.His eyes, dark and unreadable behind the velvet mask, scanned her from head to toe. Slowly. Deliberately.Then, with a slight tilt of his head, he gave a lazy order.âCuff her properly.âThe guards moved instantly. They adjusted her cuffs, locking them together at the front instead of behind her back. A small mercy. Then, without a word, he stood, adjusted his gloves, and began walking toward the exit.âTake her to the car,â he said, voice cold and quiet. âNow.âShe was pulled along like cargo. Her feet stumbled as they guided her outside. The crowd from the auction was gone. The halls were eerily silent. The moment the doors opened, she was shoved into the backseat of a long, black ca
âLET ME GO!â she yelled, struggling against his grip. âTHIS IS KIDNAPPING! YOU CANâT DO THIS TO ME!âA sharp slap cut across her cheek.âShut the hell up,â he snapped. âYou think anyoneâs coming for you?âShe bit down on her lip, tears stinging her eyes, but she didnât let them fall.Another man walked in. âSheâs a mess. Get her cleaned up. Change her into something decent. Boss wants her in Room Three.ââIâm not going anywhere,â she hissed, even though her voice trembled.The second blow hit her in the ribs. She folded over, gasping.âYou donât get to say no,â the first man muttered. âYour daddy made sure of that.âHis words sent a chill through her. âWhat are you talking about?â she asked shakily. âWhat does my father have to do with this?âThe man looked at her, then laughed bitterly. âOh, you donât know?âHe took a step closer. âYour fatherâAlessandro Corsettiâborrowed two hundred million dollars from our boss. He said heâd pay it back in a year.âHer mouth went dry.âThatâs not p







