The Don's Unwanted Bride

CHAPTER 8

Alyssa’s POV

The moment I stepped into the mansion, my heart dropped. No, scratch that, it crashed and burned.

The air was thick with something I couldn’t quite name. Power? Danger? Death? All of the above.

The smell of leather and cologne mixed with something more metallic, like blood masked beneath polished marble floors.

Everything was so dark.

The walls were a deep onyx, the paintings abstract and twisted, almost suffocating in their intensity.

A waterfall sat like a centerpiece near the massive staircase, flowing silently like a predator lying in wait. The lights were dimmed, like the house didn’t want to be fully seen.

And then there was him.

I caught a glimpse of him walking through the corridor. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark suit, dark eyes, darker aura. He didn’t look real. He looked like a ghost made of flesh and steel.

Seeing him made me pause mid-step.

This place… it reminded me of my home in New York. The energy, the luxury, the dread. Only this time, I wasn’t the Mafia King’s daughter.

I was a maid.

I gripped my duffel bag tightly, every fiber in my body screaming for me to run. But where would I go?

Estina’s mother had thrown me out like a disease. I had no money. No friends. No backup plan. So I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced myself forward.

I needed this job.

"Hey!" a gruff voice snapped behind me.

I turned and came face to face with a man who looked like he bench-pressed grown men for breakfast.

"Follow me," he said, offering no introduction.

I said nothing and obeyed, falling into step behind him. He walked with purpose, every stride calculated.

We passed the living room, if you could call it that, where another waterfall cascaded beside a black piano, untouched and spotless.

He finally stopped at a large doorway and pushed it open. "Kitchen," he announced. "Madam Lena. New girl."

Inside, several women in uniform turned to stare at me. The man left without a word.

The woman who looked like she was in charge walked forward. Her expression was unreadable, sharp eyes sizing me up like a piece of furniture.

"I’m Madam Lena," she said. "You must be the Don’s new personal maid."

At the word Don, I froze.

No.

I should’ve known. That aura. That level of silence and control. He wasn’t just some rich guy with security.

He was part of the Mafia. Just like my father. Was this fate mocking me?

Was this some cruel trick to throw me right back into the world I was running from?

I blinked quickly and cleared my throat, trying to suppress the shudder that ran through me. "Andrea. Andrea Mathew," I said, almost slipping and saying Alyssa.

Madam Lena raised a brow. "Alright, Andrea. Listen carefully. You’re not just any maid. You’ll be working directly with the Don."

I swallowed hard.

She continued, her voice firm. "You will clean his room every morning. Do not under any circumstance touch any of his personal items. He notices everything, and he doesn’t like strangers poking around."

I nodded quickly. "Got it."

"And don’t touch him," she added sharply. "He hates being touched."

Noted.

"Every morning by seven sharp, you will prepare his coffee. He doesn’t eat breakfast. Doesn’t believe in it. But his coffee must be strong, hot, and made precisely how he likes it. One mistake, and you’re out. Understood?"

"Yes," I whispered.

"And as soon as he returns from work, you get dinner from the chefs and deliver it to his study. If he’s late, he won’t eat at all, so don’t bother."

I was still nodding when she leaned in closer.

"You’re not the first personal maid the Don’s had," she said, her tone lower. "But you might be the last if you don’t follow the rules."

There was a heavy silence in the room. All the other maids were pretending not to listen, but I could feel their eyes on me. Watching. Waiting.

"What happened to the last one?" I asked before I could stop myself.

Madam Lena’s lips curled slightly. "She made the mistake of thinking his rules didn’t apply to her."

That didn’t sound promising.

"Welcome once again," she said after a beat. "I hope you survive the week here."