She Walked Into the Mafia Boss’s Room to Clean—Then His Family Walked In While He Was Still in a Towel
Chapter 2
By breakfast the next morning, the towel incident had become family history.
Sofia learned this because Bianca was laughing so hard she nearly dropped her coffee.
“I still can’t believe it.”
Sofia stood near the kitchen counter with a tray.
“Believe what?”
Bianca grinned.
“Nothing.”
Sofia narrowed her eyes.
“You’ve told the chef.”
“No.”
“The housekeeper?”
“No.”
“The driver?”
Bianca paused.
“Maybe.”
Sofia groaned.
She wanted to disappear.
Matteo entered the kitchen.
The laughter stopped.
He wore a charcoal suit and looked nothing like the man who had stood in front of Sofia the night before.
Cold.
Composed.
Untouchable.
He nodded once to the staff.
Then his eyes found Sofia.
She immediately looked away.
Bianca noticed.
Of course she did.
“Good morning, Sofia.”
“Morning.”
Bianca smiled.
“How did you sleep?”
“Fine.”
“Interesting.”
Matteo looked at his sister.
“Stop.”
Bianca raised her hands.
“I’m stopping.”
Sofia placed a cup of coffee on Matteo’s table.
He looked at it.
“Thanks.”
She nodded.
She expected him to leave.
Instead, he asked,
“Are you all right?”
Sofia almost dropped the tray.
“Yes.”
“You’re avoiding looking at me.”
“You noticed?”
“Yes.”
“I’m trying to maintain professionalism.”
Matteo’s mouth twitched.
“I appreciate that.”
Bianca looked between them.
“Oh, this is going to be fun.”
Matteo gave her a warning look.
She laughed.
Sofia walked away.
She didn’t notice Matteo watching her until she turned around.
He looked away immediately.
Later that morning, the head housekeeper called Sofia aside.
“You’ve been noticed.”
Sofia frowned.
“By whom?”
“Mr. Moretti.”
Her stomach dropped.
“I didn’t do anything.”
“I know.”
The older woman smiled.
“He rarely notices anyone.”
Sofia sighed.
“I’m sure this will pass.”
“It probably won’t.”
Sofia returned to work.
She had other problems.
Her younger brother Leo needed money for a school trip.
Her rent was due.
And her mother’s medical bills had not gone away.
The reason Sofia had accepted the job at the Moretti estate was simple.
The salary was much better than anything she’d earned before.
She couldn’t afford to lose it.
That afternoon, Matteo returned early.
He found Sofia in the library dusting the shelves.
“Do you always work this hard?”
She looked up.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because bills don’t care if you’re tired.”
He nodded.
“Fair.”
She continued cleaning.
“Are you here to complain about the dust?”
“No.”
“Then?”
“I need to ask you something.”
She turned.
“What?”
“Last night.”
She groaned.
“Please don’t.”
“You thought the room was empty.”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t tell anyone I was there.”
“Why would I?”
“Some people would use it.”
“I don’t.”
“Why?”
She shrugged.
“I work here.”
He studied her.
“You’re different.”
“Because I walked into the wrong room?”
“No.”
He stepped closer.
“Because you don’t care what my name means.”
Sofia stared.
“I care.”
“How much?”
“Enough to know I should probably never ask.”
He smiled faintly.
Then his phone rang.
His expression changed immediately.
Business.
He turned away.
“Yes.”
A pause.
“Where?”
Another pause.
“Lock the south gate.”
Sofia continued dusting.
She wasn’t listening.
At least, she tried not to.
Then Matteo said,
“Don’t let anyone near my sister.”
Sofia looked up.
His voice had become colder.
The call ended.
“What happened?”
He looked at her.
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
She nodded.
But before he left, he paused.
“Sofia.”
“Yes?”
“Last night.”
She looked at him nervously.
“You looked terrified.”
“I was.”
He smiled.
“You weren’t the one wearing only a towel.”
Her face turned bright red.
He walked away.
For the first time, Sofia saw the faintest hint of humor in the man everyone feared.
And for some reason, that made her more nervous than the towel ever had.
