Enzo The Housemaid Mga Nobela at Kwento

A moment of weakness that he was probably already regretting. ​By afternoon, the mansion was buzzing with activity, and I was back to being a maid. My body was completely exhausted, my thighs aching slightly from the friction of the night before, but I forced myself to keep moving, scrubbing the marble floors of the grand entrance hall. ​Suddenly, the heavy front doors swung open, and the scent of winter air, cedarwood, and fresh mint flooded the room. ​My heart leaped into my throat. I froze, my hands gripping the wooden handle of my mop as Enzo walked into the hall. He looked devastatingly handsome, dressed in his dark warrior leathers, his broad shoulders squared and his jaw set in a firm

"Oh please, spare me the details, Enzo. I don't need to know about your 'new experiences'." Enzo chuckled. "Hey, I'm just saying, I'm a catch! And I can cook, clean, and do laundry. What more could you ask for?" Ava raised an eyebrow. "I don't know, maybe someone who doesn't brag about their domestic skills?" Enzo feigned offense. "Hey, I'll have you know that I make a mean lasagna. That's husband material right there." Ava shook her head, still laughing. "I'll keep that in mind, Enzo. But for now, let's focus on getting

At first glance, there's no one in the room, but as I look around, I catch a glimpse of a hand clutching a glass of whiskey, hidden by the high back of an armchair, and I approach. "Massimo. I was wondering when you were finally going to show up on your own to finish the job of destroying my life." Enzo's voice is low and listless, and as I walk around the edge of his armchair, he lifts the glass to take a healthy swallow. His eyes are already bloodshot when I finally stand in front of him, his skin looking sallow, and it's clear that he's been in this chair for a while.

The door clicked open to reveal a beautiful woman dressed in a grey and white maid uniform, her brown hair was tied into a tight bun revealing her oval-shaped face, the blood-red lipstick on her lips made was the most obvious thing on her face. "Good afternoon, Mr Zion," The maid said, ignoring Enzo who was too busy staring at her. "Hi, is Xander here?" Zion asked, not paying attention to the small exchange of glares between Enzo and the maid. "Yes sir, he's in the study," the maid answered, opening the door widely for Zion to enter. "Okay, thanks," Zion said, g maid a small smile before dashing inside. The smile on the maid's face disappeared when Zion left.

“You’re a tough one, aren’t you?” “Big, strong like Papa!” Enzo says proudly, flexing his little arms. Nyx laughs, reaching up to tickle his foot. “And clever like Mama,” she adds, smiling at Lorenzo. Enzo becomes busy playing on the table with his toys, a small dragon and a knight, making them battle each other with gleeful shouts. His wide eyes sparkle with curiosity as he glances around his surroundings. “Look, Daddy! Dragon win!” he yells, holding the toy dragon high.

"Yeah. We should probably head back." I said and we went back to Enzo's home and my temporary residence. There was no one there, no guards, no servants. Everything was properly organised and clean. I think the servants already did their jobs. Enzo went and took a seat on the couch, throwing himself in the plush leather couch and casually shoved his arms and legs. He was tired or maybe not. All these things wouldn't make him tired. He was a fighter, a mafia. I took a seat on the adjacent chair and thought of removing my blazer but then the top I wore inside was too revealing. I managed in the heat whereas Enzo was already out of his tux and had unbuttoned his shirt,half. "You were going to ta

Confusion was a mask everyone inside wore. The room itself was unrecognisable from the warm, homely space it had been before. The flowers and their vases had been shredded and shattered. The dining table had been smashed and lay in splinters across the floor. But none of that mattered, because Enzo’s parents were okay. He pulled them into a fierce hug, a sob making his whole body undulate. His mum, Resme – I remembered meeting her, I remembered her name – clutched him back just as hard, her blonde curls in a mess, flicked with splashes of wood and blood; his dad, Geno, buried his head in his son’s neck.

Enzo, who is nearly seventy years old, but his condition is like that of a person in their fifties. He drank a glass of white wine first and looked at Russell, "I didn't expect that as soon as I left, you would have taken away my obedient disciple." Zoey smiled and handed Enzo a chicken leg, "Master, you're mistaken. It was me who registered Russell in the household register." Enzo glanced at the two of them and said, "My disciple is a person who is obsessed with appearances, indeed has good taste!" He looked at Russell and said, "Kid, being able to marry our Zoey, you are a lucky person."

but Aubrey remained silent, her gaze fixed on the ground. "You didn't listen to your mother. Apologize to my wife," Mrs. Davis demanded. Aubrey raised her eyes, met Davis's gaze, and stammered, "I-I-I am..." Interrupting her, Evan's voice resonated through the room. "My wife will not apologize to anyone," he declared, surprising everyone, including Mrs. Jane, who looked at Evan in disbelief. "Your wife?" Mr. Davis questioned, shocked. "Yes, both you and your mistress were berating my wife," Evan affirmed. "So, you married a maid," Mr. Davis sneered. Evan laughed and responded, "She is not a maid. She chooses to work because she enjoys it. Besides, you can marry any random woman off the stre

He announced. “I have the situation under control, I'll bring her back safely. Now, get the fuck out of my house.” Vladimir's eyes finally landed on me, his eyes lingering a little too long on my son before turning to Vincenzo. “I guess she's the stupid puttana you've been neglecting your duties for. She's made you weak, mio figlio.” (puttana: whore.) (mio figlio: my son.) He said, with his thick Italian accent. I flinched at his harsh tone and wished she could run away from his heated stare.