I Saved the Mafia Boss—Now I'm His Obsession. novel Chapter 39

Madeleine

𓎢𓎠𑄻𑄾𓎠𓎡

I could still feel him on me.

Not just his hands... him.

All of him.

The weight of his body behind mine, the way his breath coasted down the back of my neck. Every nerve in me felt hijacked, overstimulated, and buzzing.

I didn’t even know what I was saying. What I was agreeing to. My brain was a loop of: Stay calm. Stay soft. Stay sweet.

I thought if I could just keep my voice light and my smile gentle, I wouldn’t end up dead in this stupid, dark, freezing wine cellar. Because that’s what it felt like... like one wrong word and this stranger would snap me in half.

He asked me if I was okay with his hands on my body, as if I had the room to say no. I was already backed against a table, his chest pressing into my spine like some kind of wall. My wrists still tingled from the grip of him, from the rope and from the way he held me like he’d been dreaming about it for weeks.

I nodded. I said “yeah” or “okay” or something that sounded like consent but what else was I supposed to say? Actually, no, I’d prefer if you didn’t breathe down my neck like that and maybe not grab my boobs like we’re dating?”

Sure. That would've gone over great.

I didn’t want to die and that’s what it came down to. I didn’t want to die in a place that smelled like oak and wine, in the hands of a man I couldn’t even see properly.

All I had to go off was the feel of him, tall, lean, solid muscle. There was no softness to him, not anywhere. And that voice... deep, like very deep and rough.

So yeah, I was trying to stay alive with my smile, with my voice. With whatever was left of my dignity. And if I had to act like I liked the way he touched me? Then I’d do it. God help me, I’d do it just to survive.

Now I was standing in the staff kitchen like a complete lunatic, in my black and white Velluto Rosso uniform with my name tag slightly crooked, pretending I hadn’t just had someone press their entire body against mine in a freezing wine cellar just yesterday.

My gaze jumped from face to face, scanning the kitchen. I didn’t even realize I was doing it until I caught myself staring too hard at a waiter. Then another. And then the sous chef. They were all tall and muscular. A couple of them had that lean build. One had a voice that was kind of deep.

I swallowed hard and turned toward the swinging double doors just in time to catch a glimpse of Adriano outside. He was laughing at something one of the guests said, champagne in hand, black suit so crisp it looked tailor-cut straight onto his body.

I stared at him maybe too long through the glass, something twisting in my stomach but no. It couldn’t be him. It wasn’t him.

He wasn’t in the cellar. He couldn’t have been. We’d just had lunch not even twenty minutes before that man called me down into the dark.

He wasn’t wearing a suit. And he definitely wasn’t wearing Adriano’s cologne.

The man in the cellar smelled like dark wood, cold stone. Adriano always smelled clean, like soap on hot skin, crushed vetiver, smoked cedar, and that expensive aftershave that hit you low, in your stomach, in your spine as if the heat in his stare wasn’t enough, he had to smell like that too.

No. It wasn’t him.

He had no reason to be down there. No reason to touch me like that.

I forced myself to look away, turning so fast I nearly knocked over the tray of clean silverware.

I was being ridiculous.

Paranoid.

Borderline insane.

I distracted myself and spent time with Tom. I was mid-laugh, cheeks warm, telling him about the time my mom burnt the Pastel de Nata so bad the neighbors thought the apartment was on fire, when something slammed onto the counter in front of me. I flinched.

Two bags.

And behind them, Paula and Livia. Out of uniform and definitely out for blood. Both of them were glaring at me like I’d just killed their childhood dogs. My smile dropped so fast it practically shattered.

“I...” I swallowed hard. “Hi.”

Livia crossed her arms, her nostrils flaring, “You must be real proud of yourself now, huh?”

I blinked, “What?”

“You got me fired,” she snapped, voice loud enough to catch a few glances from nearby staff. “I’ve worked my ass off in this place, followed every rule, showed up early, stayed late. And all I did—all I did—was tell you to do your job right.”

“I—Livia, I didn’t—”

She cut me off with a bitter laugh, like I was telling some inside joke she didn’t think was funny, “I didn’t even yell at you. I didn’t curse. I was trying to help you understand how this place works, and what did I get? Kicked out. Just like that.”

My heart dropped into my stomach.

“Wait, no—Livia, I didn’t ask anyone to fire you, I swear. I didn’t say anything—”

“Oh, come on,” Paula said, rolling her eyes, “Spare us the act, Madeleine. You’ve had him wrapped around your finger since day one.”

“Who?” I asked, stupidly, like I didn’t already know exactly what name she was choking on.

“You know who,” she hissed. “You think just because he’s got a thing for you, you can walk around here all cutesy and baby voice and oops I don’t know how to plate risotto properly, and still get away with it.”

“I’m not—I don’t think I’m special,” I said quietly, arms curling around my stomach. “I didn’t mean for anyone to get fired. I swear, I—I just...”

Livia scoffed, “You cried a little, batted those big eyes at him and now look. We’re out. You’re still here. Isn’t that convenient?”

My throat was tight now, “I—I didn’t want that. I didn’t want any of that. I’m really sorry—if I can talk to him maybe he can reverse it or give you another chance—”

Paula took a step closer, invading my space, “You think he’s gonna undo it because you asked? Just like he fired us because you asked?!”

“I’m not—” I shook my head, feeling my eyes start to sting, “It’s not like that. I don’t even know what you think this is, but I never asked for special treatment.”

“Yeah? Well, you got it anyway. So enjoy it while it lasts, princess,” Paula sneered, “because you might be the flavor of the month, but once he’s done with you, you’ll be the next one walking out of here with a trash bag.”

They turned and walked off, heels clicking, hair bouncing, anger trailing behind them. I stood there for a second, completely frozen, my shoes were glued to the tile.

Tom gave me a small, quiet glance. I could feel the tension humming in the kitchen around us, everyone pretending not to listen but definitely listening.

I swallowed down the lump in my throat. I hadn’t meant to hurt anyone. God, I really hadn’t.

I didn’t even clock where my feet were taking me. Just that my hands were shaking, and I needed to talk to him, needed to explain. Fix it. Undo whatever the hell I’d accidentally done.

He wasn't with his guests anymore so I turned towards the staff hallway. I didn’t even knock when I reached his office, I just opened the door and slipped inside like I might evaporate if I didn’t get the words out fast enough.

Adriano was standing beside his desk, one hand gripping a folder, the other wrapped around a glass of something dark and expensive-looking. He was still in his suit. He looked up, those dark eyes locking on me like heat-seeking missiles.

“Sunshine?” he said, “You okay?”

I shut the door behind me and leaned back on it, “No. Not really.”

He straightened a little, but didn’t come closer. He didn’t have to come closer because every room already felt smaller with him in it, “Talk.”

I twisted my fingers together, “Did you fire Livia and Paula?”

He blinked once, “Yes.”

“Because of me?”

His eyes narrowed just slightly, “Because they were out of line. They disrespected someone I care about in my restaurant. You don’t need to carry guilt for that.”

“But I didn’t ask you to fire them,” I said quickly, stepping forward now, heart in my throat, “They’re mad, really mad. They think I’m... manipulating you, or something. They think I got them fired on purpose.”

He tilted his head, almost amused, “Did you?”

“No!” I took another shaky breath. “But it still happened. And I don’t want people losing their jobs because of me. I didn’t come here to... to make anyone’s life harder.”

“You didn’t,” he said simply.

I laughed dryly, “Feels like I did.”

Adriano set his glass down with a clink. His shoes crossed at the ankles as he leaned his hip against his desk.

“Let me explain something to you,” he murmured, “This place runs exactly how I want it to run. If someone gets fired, it’s because they made a choice that pissed me off. Not you. Me.”

I swallowed hard. “But they hate me now.”

Adriano lifted a shoulder, “People always need someone to hate. Don’t waste energy trying to be liked.”

That should’ve comforted me but it didn’t.

I sighed, stepping closer. “Adriano...”

He raised a brow, mimicking my tone. “Madeleine...”

I stopped in front of his desk, hands clasped like a kid about to beg Santa for a pony, “Please. Please, can you rehire them? Livia is actually really good at her job. She is efficient and fast. She was just telling me to do my job.” I winced, “That’s not a reason to lose your livelihood.”

He stared at me, unmoved.

“Please,” I whispered again, “I’m begging you.”

Adriano tilted his head, like he was thinking about something or pretending to. Then he grabbed his glass, downed the last of the drink, and set it down with a soft clink.

“What do I get in return if I do?” he asked.

I blinked, “What?”

He looked so smug, “You want me to be merciful? Fine, but I don’t do charity. What’s in it for me?”

That was new. He’d never asked for anything before, not like that. My brain short-circuited for a second before I remembered how to play.

I smiled up at him, that wide-eyed smile he seemed to like a little too much, “Is there anything you need, sir?” I asked, taking a step closer, my voice honey-sweet. “I can get it for you but before I do, you have to rehire them.”

He raised an eyebrow, “You negotiating with me now?”

“I’m making a deal,” I said softly, cheeks flushing.

His eyes dragged down my body, “Dangerous game, sunshine.”

“I trust you not to take advantage.”

He gave a low laugh. “That’s your first mistake.”

I stared at him, heart hammering. “So... yes?”

He stood up, closing the space between us, “One shift, that’s all they get. Trial basis again. They fuck it up, they’re out. No third chances.”

My face lit up, “Thank you—”

He pressed a finger to my lips, making me shut up instantly, “Don’t thank me yet.”

I froze, eyes wide.

“Because if I’m gonna play nice...” he murmured, eyes locked on mine like he was planning my funeral and wedding at the same time, “then I expect something sweet in return.”

“What kind of something?” I asked, while his finger was still pressed over my lips.

Adriano tilted his head, his thumb brushing the edge of my jaw now.

“Simple. One night. You, me, dressed to the nines.”

My heart did that thing where it tried to run straight out of my chest.

He stepped back just enough to let me breathe, pacing toward his liquor cabinet and pouring himself another glass.

“There’s an event Saturday night. Black tie, strict guest list.”

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