Owned by the mafia boss

SondraI tug down the hem of my one-piece, zippered housekeeping uniform dress. The Pepto Bismol pink number comes to my upper thighs and fits like a glove, hugging my curves, showing off my cleavage. Clearly, the owners of the Bellissimo Hotel and Casino want their maids to look as hot as their cocktail girls.I went with it. I’m wearing a pair of platform-heeled wrap-arounds comfortable enough to clean rooms in, but sexy enough to show off the muscles in my legs, and I pulled my shoulder-length blonde hair into two fluffy pigtails.When in Vegas, right?My feminist friends from grad school would have a fit with this.I push the not-so-little housekeeping cart down the hallway of the grand hotel portion of the casino. I spent all morning cleaning people’s messes. And let me tell you, the messes in Vegas are big. Drug paraphernalia. Semen. Condoms. Blood. And this is an expensive, high-class place. I’ve only worked here two weeks and I’ve already seen all that and more.I work fast. S

NicoMinchia. Shit.My remaining doubts about the girl evaporate when I hear her crying. If I made a mistake, it’s a really fucking big one. Because I seriously don’t want to have to explain to my head of HR why I stripped one of our employees and held a gun to her head. In my bathroom.I’ve seriously gone off the deep end this time. The insomnia is fucking with me—making me paranoid and itchy. I need to get my little brother Stefano out here to help me run the place so I can sleep at least an hour a night. He’s the only one I trust.“Hey.” I make my voice softer. The girl’s standing under the spray of water, soaking her Harley Quinn pigtails and the pair of light blue satin panties she’s still wearing.Fuck if I don’t want to yank them right off her and see what’s underneath.I’m pretty sure she’s in shock, and who could blame her? I terrify my employees on my best days and that’s without tearing off their clothes and flashing a weapon.Her chest shudders as she lets out a silent sob

SondraDean, Corey’s boyfriend, sits on the couch watching TV. “Hey, Sondra.” He looks a little too happy to see me.My stomach clenches, awareness of my pantyless state increasing. The guy has a habit of leering at me, and I’m afraid he’ll somehow figure out there’s nothing under my very short dress.“Hey,” I mutter.He gives me an up and down sweep of his eyes, lingering way too long on my breasts. “What’s up?”There’s no way in hell I’m going to tell him about my crazy day. Corey, yes, but not him. Unfortunately, I don’t have my own room—I crashed on their couch—so there was nowhere for me to hide. Earning enough to put the deposit on my own place is my first priority, even over getting a car that runs.I go to my suitcase in the corner and grab a change of clothes before locking myself in the bathroom. Only then do I realize I still clutch the envelope from Mr. Tacone. I stick my thumb under the flap and tear it open. Six crisp hundred-dollar bills slide out with a note of paper.

“You’re as sweet as you look, aren’t you?” His face darkens and he takes a step back. “You shouldn’t have come.” He shakes his head. “I figured you’d quit for sure.”Suddenly I’m suffocating under his disappointment in me, which mirrors my own. When will I ever smarten up? Bartenders who like to drop ecstasy and mafioso casino owners are bad news.As if he senses my change in mood, he reaches out and touches my shoulder. It’s a light touch—respectful. Nothing sexy or dominating about it. “I’m sorry about yesterday, Sondra.”The way he says my name makes my insides twist and wriggle. I didn’t expect it to sound so… familiar on his lips.“I’m glad you came back—even though I wish to hell, for your sake, you didn’t.”I shove my chin forward. “So which is it? You want me here or you don’t?”Suddenly I’m trapped against the cart, caged by the two steel bands of his arms. Tacone comes flush up against me, hard, muscular lines pressed against my curves. His cock bulges at my stomach. “I jerk

SondraI take the elevator up to the top floor. Something makes me try Tacone’s room first—some sixth sense he’ll be there this time. I knock on the door, but hear nothing. So much for intuition.I key myself in and get to work.It’s empty, as it’s been the past week. A crisp fifty dollar bill lays on the table with a note and my name. At this rate, I’ll earn enough to move out of Corey’s by the end of the month.Which, considering what she told me about Dean’s interest in a threesome, is even more necessary.I leave the bill on the table until I finish. It’s for a job well-done and I’ll make damn sure I do my best before I take the money. I clean the bathrooms and bedroom and head into the study. I end up in the office last. Because Marissa was paranoid about it, I stay way the hell away from the desk, dusting the book cases, emptying the trash and vacuuming. Noticing a spider web in the upper corner of the window, I grab the broom to swipe it. And that’s when the other end of the br