She Walked Into the Mafia Boss’s Room to Clean—Then His Family Walked In While He Was Still in a Towel
Chapter 1
Sofia Bennett had worked in the Moretti household for eleven months, and in all that time, she had learned one very important rule.
Never enter Matteo Moretti’s room without knocking.
Unfortunately, nobody had told her that the rule still applied when the room looked empty.
It was just after seven in the evening.
The massive Moretti estate was unusually quiet. Most of the family was downstairs preparing for dinner, and the security team was moving between the east and west wings.
Sofia stood outside Matteo’s bedroom carrying fresh towels, cleaning supplies, and a basket of folded shirts.
She knocked once.
No answer.
She knocked again.
Still nothing.
She frowned.
The housekeeper had specifically asked her to change the linens before the family dinner.
“Mr. Moretti?” Sofia called through the door.
Nothing.
She slowly opened it.
The room was empty.
At least, it appeared to be.
The bed hadn’t been made.
The curtains were half closed.
A dark suit lay across a chair.
Steam drifted from the bathroom.
Sofia sighed.
“Of course.”
She stepped inside.
Matteo Moretti was the most feared man in the city.
To newspapers, he was a wealthy businessman.
To his enemies, he was the head of the Moretti organization.
To the staff, he was simply the boss they tried never to inconvenience.
He rarely smiled.
He rarely spoke more than necessary.
And he had never once shown interest in any woman working in the house.
Sofia respected that boundary.
She also had a five-year-old brother to support and no time for foolish distractions.
She changed the sheets quickly.
She gathered the clothes from the chair.
She placed fresh towels in the bathroom.
Then she heard the shower stop.
Her hand froze.
She slowly turned toward the bathroom door.
“Mr. Moretti?”
No answer.
The doorknob moved.
Sofia’s eyes widened.
The bathroom door opened.
Matteo stepped out.
He had clearly just finished showering.
A white towel was wrapped securely around his waist.
His dark hair was wet.
Water still glistened on his shoulders.
He stopped.
She stopped.
They stared at each other.
For approximately three seconds, neither spoke.
Then Sofia looked sharply at the floor.
“I thought you were downstairs.”
Matteo raised an eyebrow.
“I live here.”
“Right.”
“That usually helps.”
She felt her face burning.
“I was told to change the linens.”
“You couldn’t hear the shower?”
“I thought the room was empty.”
“It wasn’t.”
“I understand that now.”
He almost smiled.
Almost.
Sofia grabbed the cleaning basket.
“I’ll leave.”
She turned.
And at that exact moment, the bedroom doors opened.
Matteo’s mother entered.
Behind her were his younger sister Bianca, his uncle Carlo, and two family advisers.
Everyone stopped.
The silence was deafening.
Sofia stood beside the bed holding a stack of sheets.
Matteo stood in the center of the room with only a towel.
His mother looked at Matteo.
Then Sofia.
Then Matteo again.
Bianca’s mouth fell open.
Carlo slowly raised an eyebrow.
Nobody said a word.
Then Bianca whispered,
“Oh.”
Sofia wanted the floor to open.
Matteo looked at his family.
“Before anyone says anything—”
His mother lifted a hand.
“Who is she?”
Sofia opened her mouth.
“I’m Sofia. I’m the new—”
Bianca interrupted.
“You’re in his bedroom.”
“Yes.”
“With him.”
“No.”
Matteo sighed.
“She works here.”
Bianca’s eyes widened.
“I can see that.”
His mother looked suspicious.
“At this hour?”
Sofia stared at the clock.
“It’s seven ten.”
“That isn’t what she meant,” Matteo said.
Sofia covered her face with one hand.
This was officially the worst day of her life.
Then Matteo calmly walked past everyone toward his closet.
His mother whispered,
“Matteo.”
“Yes?”
“Where are your clothes?”
He looked over his shoulder.
“In the closet.”
Bianca started laughing.
Sofia didn’t.
She was already planning how quickly she could resign.
Then Matteo said something that made everyone turn toward him.
“She stays.”
His mother blinked.
“What?”
Matteo looked at Sofia.
“She isn’t going anywhere.”
Sofia stared at him.
She didn’t know why he had said that.
But she was about to discover that staying in the Moretti mansion would become far more complicated than cleaning a bedroom.
