The Don's Maid [18+]

26

I had fallen asleep in the guestroom, crying.

Waking up sometime around the day I found a passport and a ticket along with a phone and a black credit card resting on the flat surface of the bedside table.

There was a note.

'I fucked up, I know. And I promised the next time I hurt you, it'll be whatever you say.

-Vincent'

It was written in an untidy half cursive way, and there was somewhat lack of feeling in it.

Maybe he never had too much to express. My inner girl says still sniffling.

I ignore the small girly-faiytale addict part of my brain and concentrate on the practical one.

I really want to go to Italy. Meet my father and fund out the reason why if he never like the Mafia life he left me and my mum into the center of it.

I want to know why my mum never wanted me to talk about him or ask for him.

I want to know why he wouldn't even for once look for me or try to contact me when my mama died.

So, I shoved the things Vincent left by my bedside table into the small travel bag I was carrying and walked out of the room after brushing my teeth.

Climbing downstairs, I paused before his office door. There was no guard or armed soldier.

He was alone.

"Oh hey, Rosaline." I heard the same voice that I heated moaning yesterday evening.

Cara strode towards me, with smiling face.

I ignored her as I pushed open the office door.

Vincent was sitting on his chair, head in his hands wearing the same cloths from yesterday.

Before I could enter Cara squeezed past me with a squealing tone she said, "Hey honey!"

Vincent looked up at her but realising I was there too his olive eyes drifted toward me.

The warmth and love I felt when he looked at me was no replaced by something cold and stale. It didn't feel as good as it used to be.

Cara settled her on top of his lap, playing with the buttons on his shirt.

We both ignored her as he kept looking at me, drinking me in. An expression of guilt and sadness plastered on his beautiful face.

It took me every drop of my self control to keep myself standing instead of walking to him and collapsing on him saying I forgive him and so on and so forth, just like the other times I did.

I should have realised the first-time I saw Cara in this vary room half naked sprawled on his lap, that he has commitment issues.

But better late then never.

"I'm going." I manage to croak out after a long moment of uncomfortable silence.

He sighs. "Is there anything I can do to make you stay?" A sense of hurt grace his usually sharp and authoritative voice.

I shake my head.

"You'll come back, won't you?" Desperate he makes Cara get up from his lap and strides toward me. "You'll come back to me, won't you my Rosaline?" He asked cupping my cheeks.

"I don't know, Vincent." I feel a tear escape my eyes.

With a sigh he rests his forehead against mine. "I'm so sorry, baby." He sighs as if on the verge of breaking down. "I know I fucked up. I'm sorry. Forgive me this one time?"

I clearly remember the same phrase leave his lips that night when he wanted me to forgive him for choking me.

This one time... it's been three.

And I can't anymore.

I am tired of forgiving and forgetting and being controlled...I need a life. My life.

"You promised, whatever I say." I whisper remembering his note.

He inhales sharply. "I'm so sorry. I can't just let you go."

I stay silent as a moment later he pulls away and looks at me like I am the last one he's seeing before he dies. "I love you."

I feel the whole world around me stop as I gape at him. A snort comes from our behind but I ignore it.

He's just saying so you stay. Says a voice in my head. Don't say it back. Nod and turn around and leave. It's now or never.

I give a slight nod biting the inner part of my bottom lip, trying to stay mum. With a last glance at him, I turn and leave.

The car that was waiting in the driveway of the estate took me to the airport. My flight was round three in the afternoon and so I had time for a quick lunch. I paid with the credit card that Vincent gave me. The lady gave me a weird look before handing me the receipt.

The card however was registered to my name. But it was something like Rosaline DeAngelo.

I didn't get the point of her looking at me like she's seen a machine gun hanging from my arm but I rarely have it a thought as I boarded the plane.

After fifteen long hours of the straight one way flight, I was in the internation airport in Palmero, Sicily, Italy.

But I was anything but happy. I was nervous but somewhat relieved.

I had never left the whore-house before I came to the estate. I never left the estate, and that too alone but here I was in Sicily, all alone and not a bit scared.

In these long fifteen hours of flight, I leaned how to operate the phone and everything on it. It's pretty easy once you see it going.

Now sitting on one of the benches lining the wall of a waiting room in the airport I was looking at the dark screen of the phone. I had no where to go and I don't know what to do. I have an address to my papa but I am not sure how to deal with it.

Maybe I should go to a hotel for the night and can figure out what to do next after a nap.

With a sigh I get up and grab something from the food court to eat. Outside I find many taxies lining the parking of the airport, I call one and ask him to take me to a hotel.

And that he goes after ten minutes of driving through the city. The hotel was luxurious and well kept modern, the receptionist greeted me with a smile and asked me to fill up the form she handed me.

The room was quite large and white...and lonely.

I felt lonely.

After a shower and change of clothes, I lay on the bed trying to get a nap or something...but all I see upon closing my eyes is Vincent's face. Feel his mouth on mine, him inside me and suddenly everything in me aches, for his warm touch, a gesture even.

I can't help the tears escape my eyes and soon they take the form of heavy sobs and wail of first heartbreak.

[A|N]

So there is this guy...okay? And he's jerk. That's all I got to say.

Question of the chapter:

Get tattoos OR get plastic surgery just for the fun of it.

I wanna get tattoos for fun cause I am pretty much happy with my face, and I am like...short...like 4'9 but I am happy with what God gave me. So I'd get tattoos cause I'd love to get one.

-November