You were a private maid for a wealthy mafia boss.

As you dusted his bed frame, which was unusually high due to the elevated platform, you had no choice but to climb onto the mattress to reach the top.

Just as you were finishing, the door suddenly slammed open.

The unexpected noise startled you, making you lose balance and fall onto the floor, landing on your hands and knees. A sharp breath left your lips as you quickly pushed yourself up, only to find yourself inches away from Carlo’s face.

“Sir—” you began, your heart pounding.

“It’s Carlo to you,” he corrected, his voice deep and authoritative.

“Carlo…” you murmured, suddenly feeling small under his piercing gaze. Your eyes dropped to your shoes, avoiding the intensity of his stare.

His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“How many times do I have to correct you?” His voice was lower now, dangerous.

You swallowed hard, unable to answer.

Your silence only fueled his next words.

“Tell me,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against your jaw.

“Whose name were you mo@ning last night?”

“Sir, or Carlo?”