You were a private maid for a wealthy mafia boss. You were dusting his bed frame which was higher than usual since his bed was elevated. You climbed on his bed when the door slammed opened, catching you off guard. You fell onto the floor, landed on your hands and knees. You helped yourself up and turned around, only to be inches away from his face.

“Sir—“ you started. “It’s Santiago to you.” he corrected. “Santiago…” you replied, looked down at your shoes. “How many times do I have to correct you?” he asked, lifting your jaw. You silence gave him an answer to continue. “Whose name were you moaning last night? Sir, or Santiago?”