Chapter 4

Skylar's POV 

It's about 7am now and I'm currently cleaning up breakfast since all the men have left and I can't stop shaking. 

Not in a million years would I have thought that the most handsome, dark, dangerous man; mob boss might I add, would even begin to LOOK at me. Not give me the attention he just gave me awhile ago. Now he wants to meet me in his office!? Holy crap, this is my first day of my first job and I've already gotten myself into deep, hot water. 

We're nearly done cleaning up breakfast and only have the dishes left to do. Some would be happy about this, but I'm dreading every moment that passes. 

"What's your deal?" A snarky voice questions as I shakily place a dish on to the drying rack.

I turn around and see Amelia staring bullets into me with a very prominent frown upon her face. "N-nothing," I mumble and continue the dishes. I hear her simply huff in response then leave to another sink to bother someone else.

I now only have a few items left to clean, rinse and dry. My heart it beginning to beat faster and faster.

Taking out the last dish from the basin, I begin to scrub it as much and as long as I possibly can. What if he fires me? I've been here less than 24 hours and just barley started working. 

"Alright, everyone!" Amelia's voice rings through the air which causes everyone else's mumbling to instantly calm to complete silence and all the dish clattering stops. "Finish up what you're doing then take you breakfast break. At 8:30, start the cleaning." 

Since all my dishes are now complete, I pull the plug from the drain and quickly dry my hands, then race out of the kitchen, dodging everyone that's slowly making their way out as well.

When I enter the hall, I come to a complete halt. Where do I go from here? I look one way and see all the maids heading back through the hall we came from, and the other way is completely barren. I decide that the mob boss probably wouldn't locate his bedroom close to the servants living space and head down the empty hallway.

While I carefully take small, nervous steps down the hallway, I notice many pictures of many different (what seems to be) mafia leaders who are all Russian. The first one is from the 1800's and I follow more and more until I finally stop at the last one: the man who's attention I had caught this morning. His name is Andrei Volkov.

As I start to admire his handsomeness on the picture even more, I notice there's a door right beside me. The closer I come to the door, I begin to hear someone yelling very angrily in what must be Russian. 

Taking a deep breath, I bring my hand to the door and gently knock three times on the fine trimmed wood. 

"Come in.." a deep, accented voice says.

My hand turns the knob slowly and the light in the room starts to peer through the door and into the dark hall. When I open the door completely, I am welcomed with a large, dark room just like the hallway with a fair-sized desk, bookcases of old-looking books, a carpet created from what seems to be a bear, and a case of straight alcohol with a bar off to the side of it. 

Behind the desk, sits the murderously handsome man I met at breakfast today. He has a devious grin painted on his face while he stares ahead at me.

Andrei's POV

There she is; here with me in my office with nobody else except the two of us. Her uniform is still damp from washing dishes and her long, dirty blonde hair is beginning to fall out of her pony tail and on to her rosy red cheeks. 

"Come in, Love," I say, waving her in from the doorway. "Take a seat." I gesture to the seats in front of my desk and she nods, hurrying in. 

She carefully takes a seat in the chair facing directly at me and folds her hands together all while staring at the floor shyly. God, she hasn't even said anything to me yet and I already want to take her right here and now this desk. 

"So," I begin and lean forward onto my desk. "How was your first day, hm?" 

I watch as her hands clench tightly, making her knuckles instantly go white. She looks up from the floor and at me; her face paler than it was a few moments ago. "G-good, sir," she replies.

"Why so shy?" I ask and stand from my chair which causes her to look up from the floor and up at me. "You're awfully paler than you were at breakfast. Are you feeling unwell?" I continue questioning her, knowing very well my presence is what's making her feel sickly. 

She shakes her head. "No, Sir," she replies quicker this time and her eyes glance back at the floor. She's anxious to get out of here.

"You know, Skylar," I say with emphasis on her beautiful name. 

Her head shoots up and she stares fearfully ahead at the file with a picture of her on it. I wonder if she'll bolt?

"You're a very beautiful girl." I compliment, continuing with our conversation.

Her fearful stare softens and a frown replaces it. She looks to her left and takes a glance of herself in the large mirror that's perfectly place between two tall bookshelves. "No, I'm not," She says quietly, so quiet it's like she's talking to herself.

I chuckle lowly at her response. "Stand up," I demand which seems to frighten the poor girl even more. You're such a dumbass, Andrei.

She carefully stands up from the grey cushioned chair with her hands folded together. The loose hair from her ponytail fall over her face as she begins to twiddle with her thumbs aimlessly. 

"Look at me," I order as calmly as the Mafia boss inside me will let me. Her bright, colourful eyes wonder up to me as they try to peer through her thick luscious locks. I bring my hand to her face to brush them away, but she flinches and covers herself with her trembling hands.

I frown and drop my hand to my side as anger riles up inside of me at the thought that someone has hurt her. 

I clear my voice and take a seat on my desk which causes her to drop her guard and stand politely in front of me. "I have a proposition," I say, getting right to the point of her being here.

She nods her head. "Yes?" She utters with a soft voice.

I sigh out as I try to gather words in my head that will make this conversation as appropriate as possible. "I want you to be my personal maid," I say.

Skylar's eyebrows knit together with confusion. "Huh?"

I chuckle lowly at her pure innocence. With such beauty, I would've been sure she would know all about these kinds of things.

"As my personal assistant, you will tend to my everyday, sometimes hourly, possibly weekly needs," I begin and her eyes widen even more. "I know what you're thinking, 'ohmygod, this is guy is out of his mind.' But no. If you are to accept this job, many good things will come your way." I grab a notepad from beside me as well as a black pen. "First, you will be moved out of your room and into one not far from mine," I tell her all while writing it down. "You will be given hot meals everyday, have many clothes of your choice, possibly be able to go to business meetings with me, more free time and-,"

"Wait," she interrupts with an apologetic wave. I've barley ever been interrupted, but I suppose I'll let this one slide since she's too innocent to be spanking her ass red just yet.

"I'll do it," she sighs out and a wave of happiness consumes me. "But on one condition."

"Yes?"

"I don't want all the 'perks', the other workers should have them, not me. I've seen the beds they have to sleep in and the leftovers they eat. They deserve all of what you just offered," she says with a heavy voice. "I'll sleep in the rickety beds if it means everyone else gets the comfort of a warm bed and hot meal."

Never in my entire life have I ever met someone so selfless and caring. Any other girl would've taken everything offered and gone with the deal.

"It's a deal."