The Mafias maid

sion had been grim, and his conversation had been laced with a sense of urgen

office door, wondering if she would see him again. She knew it was un

und of footsteps coming from the hallway. She turned to see M

with you," he said, his

s she followed Marco to his office. W

behind them and gestured for Alessia to take a s

id, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You're a

Marco's words. "Thank you, sir,"

us. "I need to ask you something, A

Marco's question. What did he mean?

hat you mean, sir,"

hers. "I mean, can I trust you to keep a

o's words. What kind of secret was he talki

g there that gave her pause. It was a glimmer of vulnerab

decision. She would agree to keep M

rying to sound confiden

ul, and he nodded slowly. "Good,"

essia, leaving her to wonder what

nse of trepidation. What had she just agreed

ful. She was playing with fire,

eling that she was in over her head. She had agreed to keep Marc

er what the future held. She was trapped in a world of secrets a

nsettled. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had

routine, as she cleans the living room, she c

elp her curiosity.It wasn't until later that evening, when Alessia was serving dinner

es flanking him on either side. Alessia moved quietly a

nt, Alessia felt like she was drowning in their depths. It was a

aze lingered on hers. She knew she had to look away,

throat that Alessia was able to break the spell. She

Marco, trying to catch another glimpse of the man behind the mas

e table, that she stumbled upon a small piece of paper that had b

t was a picture of Marco, taken when he was much younger. He was st

e felt like she was seeing him for the first time. He looked ha

of curiosity. Who was this man, really? And what ha

t Marco catch her snooping around. But as she looke

racing with questions and possibilities. She knew

sense of excitement and trepidation. She knew she w

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