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CHAPTER 8
publish date:
2026-07-18 07:56:00Alessandra's POV
My skin crawled. I felt like a rabbit cornered by a wolf, but I couldn't let him see me sweat. Working in this house, I had learned that showing fear was the fastest way to get crushed.
I took a slow, deliberate breath, keeping my hands resting flat on the polished oak table so he wouldn't see them shaking. "I'm just a maid, sir. The Don is concerned about his son's care, which is why he was asking me questions. There is nothing personal about it."
Marco
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THE GODFATHER'S RUNAWAY SURROGATE CHAPTER 8
Alessandra's POVMy skin crawled. I felt like a rabbit cornered by a wolf, but I couldn't let him see me sweat. Working in this house, I had learned that showing fear was the fastest way to get crushed.I took a slow, deliberate breath, keeping my hands resting flat on the polished oak table so he wouldn't see them shaking. "I'm just a maid, sir. The Don is concerned about his son's care, which is why he was asking me questions. There is nothing personal about it."Marco tilted his head, his smile widening, but his eyes remained ice-cold. He slowly circled the table, his footsteps making a dull thud against the heavy rug. "You’re good, Alessa. Very calm. Most of the girls we hire here would be crying or stuttering by now if I stood this close."He stopped right beside me, leaning one hand on the table. The smell of expensive, musky cologne rolled off him, but it didn't have the clean, comforting scent of cedarwood that Vincenzo carried. This scent f
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Alessandra's POVI barely slept that night. Every time I closed my eyes, I kept seeing Vincenzo’s intense gray eyes staring at me from the dark foyer. It was like he was trying to look right through my fake glasses, past my cheap maid's uniform, and straight into my secrets.Morning came too fast. The sun hadn't even cleared the high concrete walls of the estate when my alarm went off. I sat up on my narrow cot in the staff quarters, my head throbbing. I quickly tied my hair back into a tight, neat bun, put on my glasses, and smoothed down my apron. Today was going to be difficult. Lucia was staying in the mansion, and that meant the house would be on high alert.In the kitchen, the atmosphere was tense. Chef Roberto was furiously chopping herbs, and the junior staff were rushing around carrying silver trays."Alessa, thank goodness you're here," Mrs. Gable said, her voice sharp but slightly frantic. "Miss Lucia wants her breakfast served in the sunroom. You take it to her. And make s
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Alessandra's POVMy hand pressed against the cold mahogany wall as the sound of Lucia’s heels faded down the grand staircase.I stood there, completely frozen, trying to get my breathing under control. The spot on my jaw where Vincenzo’s thumb had rested still tingled, a warm contrast to the freezing draft of the hallway. My heart was pounding so hard against my ribs I could hear it in my ears.She saw us. I knew she did.Even though Vincenzo had stepped back instantly, the sharp, calculating look Lucia gave me before she wrapped her arm around his was enough to make my stomach churn. She didn't see me as a threat—not yet, anyway. To her, I was just a nameless, dirty maid who had stepped out of line. But a woman like Lucia didn't tolerate anything out of place in her path. Especially not when it came to the man she was set to marry.I needed to move. Standing outside the young master's bedroom with a flushed face and trembling hands was a quick way to get fired.I hurried down the bac
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Alessandra's POVI knelt on the floor, barely keeping myself from pulling Leo into a hug that would probably scare him. Instead, I just smiled, my eyes burning with unshed tears as he stopped right in front of me."Hi, Leo," I said softly, keeping my voice gentle. "Your nanny is resting today, so I’m going to hang out with you for a bit. Is that okay?"Leo looked at me for a second, then gave a quick nod. "Can we play with the cars?""We can play with whatever you want," I replied, a genuine warmth spreading through my chest.For the next three hours, I forgot about the crushing weight of the Rossi name. We sat on the soft rug in his bedroom, rolling wooden cars back and forth. I listened to his tiny, sweet voice babble about red trucks and fast engines. It was so easy to be with him. Every laugh he let out felt like a piece of my broken soul coming back together. I memorized every detail—the tiny dimple on his left cheek, the way his nose crinkled when he giggled, the exact shade of
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