Mafia and Maid (Marchiano Mafia)

by Isa Oliver

“Let’s get a few fucking things clear,” I snarl. “One, breakfast isn’t the time to be parading around half-naked like a bunch of savages, so you wear a fucking shirt from now on. We’re having breakfast, not going to a fucking brawl. Two, you say ‘please’ to Rosa whenever you need her to do something. And three, I don’t care if Rosa’s food is fucking burned or if she’s given you salmonella poisoning or if it’s making you puke your guts out, you say ‘thank you, that was delicious,’ after every fucking meal. Got it?”

“You’re serious?” I choke out. He nods. “Like a fucking heart attack, baby.”