บททั้งหมดของ Maid To The Three Mafia Kings: บทที่ 71 - บทที่ 80

The bedside clock glowed red—1:00 a.m. Millie lay wide awake, still in her jeans and shirt, staring up at the ceiling. She traced shapes in the dark, but sleep wouldn’t come. The room was quiet except for Clara’s steady breathing across the room. Their bags sat untouched in the corner, reminding her of the escape plan they never followed through on.Her thoughts spun. She still couldn’t believe they’d stayed, just because Sheila told them to. Every part of her wanted to run—get as far away as possible. But deep down, she knew Sheila had a point. They didn’t have money. The Morettis owned the land for miles. If they ran, they’d be caught in no time. And then what? Millie didn’t know, but the thought made her stomach turn.For what felt like the hundredth time, Millie rolled over and squeezed her eyes shut. But all she could see were Evan and Ethan’s faces, and everything that had happened that night. Eventually, she gave up trying to sleep and got out of bed.“Mills?” Clara’s groggy vo

Marionne stormed down the narrow corridor, her high heels clicking angrily against the polished floor. She balanced the silver platter in one hand and clutched a bottle of expensive wine in the other. Her face was flushed with anger, and her perfectly applied makeup did little to hide her fury.She reached Aidan’s office, where she knew he had holed up for the night. She was livid. She had spent hours getting ready, putting on her most seductive French lingerie, only to be stood up. Even though Aidan hadn’t explicitly promised to show up, she had made her intentions clear. His absence was a slap in the face.For a moment, Marionne considered walking away and calling her father to cancel everything. But her wounded pride wouldn’t let her. She was Marionne freaking Hearst, an heiress, and no man—not even Aidan Moretti—would treat her like she didn’t matter.Without knocking, Marionne kicked open the door, her eyes blazing with rage. “How dare you make me wait for you?!” she screamed, hu

The following morning, Clara trudged through the back of the kitchen, her arms straining under the weight of a hefty garbage bag. As she made her way towards the large dumpster outside, Sheila suddenly appeared, her voice ringing out with a note of urgency as she called for her. “Clara, Ethan wants to see you in his study. You’d better hurry—he’s not known for his patience.”Clara froze, the garbage bag slipping from her grasp and landing with a dull thud on the floor. Her heart began to race, and she felt the color drain from her face. In all her time working at the estate, Ethan had never requested to speak with her directly. And between the three Morettis, Ethan was the one who terrified her the most. He was a striking man, with chiseled features and piercing eyes that seemed to see right through you. But his good looks were offset by an aura of cold detachment. Clara often felt like a bug under a microscope when he was around, as if he was constantly searching for flaws and weakne

"Lunchtime again," Sheila mused, as the kitchen hummed with a rhythm of its own. The air was heavy with the scent of sauces bubbling away on the stove and bread still warm from the oven. Her cheeks glowed rosy in response to the stove's heat as she pivoted towards Sandra, cradling a tray laden with steaming dishes."Sandra, take this to Evan's—" she began, but was suddenly cut off by two eager voices."I'll do it!" Millie and Andrea said together, their eyes meeting in a silent contest of determination.Sheila's gaze settled on Millie, her expression stern. "You still have laundry to do and the pantry to restock," she reminded her.Millie's chin jutted out. "I'll do them as soon as I'm done taking the food to him."Andrea's eyes narrowed. "I'll take Evan's lunch to him," she declared. "I need to check on him anyway. He must be going stir-crazy confined to that bed. I know him—being forced to lie around doing nothing will be driving him up the wall."But Millie was quicker. She darted

Ethan Moretti stood in the middle of the library, dressed in a sharp suit. The room was lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves packed with old books and filled with chairs, tables, and two large sofas. Afternoon sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting soft shadows across the polished wooden floor.Everyone’s attention was on him as he talked about his upcoming trip to Paris—a key meeting with Don Hugo and a few new investors for the Moretti business.He glanced around the room, clearly annoyed. “Where the hell is Aidan?” he snapped, eyes flicking toward the door.Marionne, stretched out on one of the sofas, didn’t bother to look up from her phone. “He left my room earlier. Haven’t seen him since.”Ethan’s voice cut through the quiet. “Can you go find him?”Marionne looked up from her phone, blinking at him like she hadn’t heard right. Was he serious? The nerve of him—ordering her around like she worked there.“I’m not your maid,” she said flatly.Ethan just smiled, unfaze