Falling for the Billionaire Mob Boss

March 1845

He kissed her lips gently and stood back to look at her.

"I'll see you there". He said and left.

She wiped her lips in disgust.

She sat in the drawing room and waited for the carriage to arrive. Condolence calls had completely worn her out. Yet, she had to attend the funeral at last. Most women looked at her with pity. A young woman alone in society without a husband. She was probably the talk of the town.

Aurora Radcliffe, only child of an Earl was doomed to being the subject of gossip.

When her father's friends came to call on her, they usually brought their sons along, in the hope that it would be love at first sight.

Her father had always warned her about being such a snob, but she couldn't help it. It was a part of her. She knew she was a prize and she delighted in how men fell over their faces just to get her attention. It was actually funny, and she would have laughed it out if she weren't the one constantly being pestered.

They made such vain conversation with her like she was supposed to be an airhead.

Her butler walked into the room. He was bearing a sealed letter.

"Read it, please". She urged.

He cleared his throat and began.

Dear Lady Radcliffe,

The demise of your father was a great loss to us. On that note, we decided to host a ball in his honour. Humbly oblige our invitation. Do not come alone. We urge you to bring a plus one.

Lady Whitall.

"Is that all?" She asked her butler.

He nodded and folded the letter.

"Do you need me to send out any letters for you?" He asked.

"What for?" She asked in utter confusion.

"I only thought that you would want to invite a plus one".

She rolled her eyes sophisticatedly.

"Whitall wants to see me married. They all fear that I would lock myself alone in this house and become a spinster."

"So, have you decided?" He humbly asked.

"No". She said.

After a moment, she asked.

"Is the carriage here yet?"

"Yes. Vulcan is waiting outside". He said.

"Change your clothes, you are coming with me". She said. He seemed surprised that she would ask him to attend her father's funeral with her.

"Stop standing there hanging your mouth like that Andrew. You were dear to my father, I am certain that he would want you to attend. You were like the son he never had, so for once, be a guest, not a servant". She said, dismissing him.

"But... I don't have anything appropriate to wear. I would rather not attend".

"Nonsense! My father was a slender man, just an inch or so shorter than you. There should be some clothes there you could try".

He looked utterly shocked.

"Lady Radcliffe, I could not possibly do that. Who ever heard of a servant wearing his master's clothes?"

"I just said that today, you should forget that you're a servant. Carry your head up. And please, for today, I want you to call me Aurora".

He nodded and left.

She waited for him in the garden.

Mrs. Poutin and Abigail kept whispering themselves. She was wondering what they were talking about and turned around.

Then, she saw Andrew. He looked so handsome and regal in her father's clothes. He had combed his hair nicely. He was dressed in all black, like she was.

How had she never noticed how handsome he was?

He walked towards her. She noticed that he still refused to meet her gaze.

"You look wonderful, Andrew. If you keep staring at the floor when I am speaking or when anyone else is speaking to you today, I would cut your wages for the month". She said and walked to the carriage.

He assisted her and entered after her.

As the carriage moved, she noticed that he kept looking back at the Estate. He was constantly rubbing his hands together and puffing his cheeks.

She felt pity for him. He was going to a place filled with sophisticated Sharks and Dogs.

"Make small talk". She said.

His eyes darted up and met her gaze. That was the first time that ever happened. His eyes were pale green.

"I should make small talk, Lady Radcliffe?"

"Yes. Aurora, remember?" She reminded him.

"What should I talk about?" He asked, clearly nervous.

" You could talk about the fair weather, sports, the court, the latest fashion, food, yourself, anything, that could of relevant to the person you are talking to". She said.

"The weather is fair indeed". He said looking up.

"Is that all. It is normally considered rude when you are in the presence of someone and do not try to initiate any conversation".

He was silent for a while.

"If I may speak my mind, Aurora". He said, startling both of them when he called her name.

She liked the way he called her name. He sounded like he was testing it out, like he wanted to know how it would sound on his lips.

"So you do not call me by my christian name behind my back?" She asked.

"No. Never".

She believed him.

"Do not mind my interruption. Speak your mind as you wanted to".

"Thank you. Instead of making vain conversation, may I ask you what I am to say when people ask who I am?"

"Of course. Tell them that you are visiting from London".

"But most of them have already met me. I have served your father for five years now".

"People never remember the faces of servants. You can be rest assured". She said.

"What if some do?"

"Then, throw them off. Tell them that they might have met you at a ball in London or something".

"Why can I not say that I am your butler".

"Because, everyone there takes pleasure in belittling a nobody. They will make you feel like you don't belong, like you are inferior".

"You sound like it has happened to you". He said.

"It happens to me. But, they are the ones that are nobodys. Just carry your head up, it lets them see that you are immune to their ridicule."

The carriage pulled up at the entrance. It was show time.

He came down first and helped her down. All eyes were on them.