Beautiful Trouble: A Dark Mafia Romance

The van rolled down the driveway.

I turned away and followed my father.

I woke to a pounding at the door.

Familiar room. It took me a few seconds to understand where I was.

The clock said seven.

“Come in,” I croaked. My voice was still rough, but I felt better—a lot better.

A tall, dark woman walked into the room carrying a dinner tray. Her skin was smooth and flawless, her cheekbones high, her eyes round and deep brown. Her hair was cut close to her scalp. Her limbs were long and lean, and she wore a simple outfit of white slacks and a navy button-down blouse.

She looked at me with disdain as she placed the tray on the coffee table in front of the fireplace.

I knew that look. All my father’s longtime staff looked at me like that.

“My name is Chika.” The woman straightened and folded her hands in front of her as she stared at me.

She was beautiful. It was disconcerting. I sat up, trying to blink away the sleep. Her full lips tugged down deeper as I took down my messy hair and ran my fingers through it. I shouldn’t have slept in a bun.

“Nice to meet you, Chika. Let me guess. You work here.”

“Very perceptive.” She didn’t smile, and it didn’t sound like a compliment. “I’m the head of the Servant Manor staff and assistant to Mrs. Servant. If you need something, you may come to me.”

“Darren didn’t mention you.”

“He wouldn’t. I’m not his creature.”

I raised my eyebrows. Interesting. Strife in the Servant home.

“I’m not his creature either.”

That seemed to soften her a bit. Her icy stare melted to frost cold instead of glacier frozen. “While you’re in this house, you’re under my care. If you need something, you can reach me via the phone system. I have instructions to ensure you do not leave the building unattended and do not attempt to contact the outside world.”

“So you’re down with the kidnapping thing too, huh?”

“It’s hard to work for the Servant family without having a flexible moral compass.”

I snorted a laugh. “That’s fair, I guess.”

“I was told to give you a tour, but you can eat first if you’re hungry.”

I glanced toward the tray. Rice and beans and some kind of gravy-drenched meat—probably chicken. My stomach rumbled. “A tour would be good.”

“First, we must do this.” She walked over to me and took something round and black from her back pocket.

I hopped out of bed. I was still wearing the same clothes—a white T-shirt and cutoff jeans over a bikini. I felt disgusting, but nobody seemed to care, and my physical grossness was a nice fuck-you to Darren, so that was nice at least.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“It’s a bracelet. You must wear it while you’re here.”

“No, thanks. I’m not a bracelet sort of girl.”

“Darren instructed me to make sure you put this on, and to force it around your ankle if necessary.”

I took a step back. Chika radiated determined anger. She was a good six inches taller than me and could probably throw me out a window if she wanted.

“I thought you weren’t his creature.”

“I’m not. Put on the bracelet.” She tossed it to me.

I caught it. Simple band, basic clasp. I opened it and placed it around my wrist. It felt like manacles. “What is it?”

“GPS tracker and heart rate monitor. If you take it off, we will know.” She stepped forward and snapped the bracelet shut, clicking it into place before I had a chance to tell her to fuck right off to hell and never come back.

“I didn’t agree to any of this,” I said, unable to fight the rising anger.

“It wouldn’t be a kidnapping if you had. Now, would you like the tour, or will you be eating?”

“Tour,” I said through my teeth. “Please.” I needed to get a sense of this house, and while I could do that on my own, it’d be faster with someone guiding me.

Chika nodded and put a hood over the tray to keep the meal warm. “Come then.” She strode out of the room.

I hurried after. She strode down the hall so fast I was nearly jogging to keep up. She was tall and lean and looked like she could run a mile in under four minutes without breaking a sweat. She pointed to various rooms and named half of them as off-limits. “Laundry there, billiards there, piano in there and other instruments if you play.” She took me down the staircase at the end of the hall and through another series of passages which left me completely lost.

The manor was a maze. Some rooms were tiny and cramped, and some were sprawling. “Formal ballroom.” Chika gestured at a crystal-adorned massive space with a dance floor and perfectly polished mirrors decorated with gilt around the edges. “Informal ballroom.” Chika pointed to a similar cavernous area, though slightly less opulent.