Mafia Substitute Bride is a Single Mother

Mena.

"There should be no talking to the Fanuccis, no looking at the Fanuccis, and unless necessary—no breathing near the Fanuccis."

With my hands perfectly behind my back, I paid attention to the strict head maid of the huge mansion.

"You are here to work!" The woman named Madam Catherina spoke clearly. My eyes wandered to the other newly recruited maids. A small group of ten. None of them looked younger than twenty-four, meaning I had to be the youngest.

The mansion belonged to one of the most feared men in the city, Domenico Fanucci. Although he tried covering his tracks behind a family vineyard and brewery, everyone knew him as one of the most ruthless and notorious mafia bosses.

His sons had quite the reputation in the city as well, and it was not a good one. There was the youngest brother, Dante, known for his playboy ways, the middle child, Gian, known for his lack of manners, and at last, the oldest, the heir—Alessio, known for his hideous temper, cold aura, and handsome looks.

The youngest and only daughter, Melody, was a six-year-old firecracker, nicknamed the princess of the house, and apparently, she was difficult to handle.

She seemed the complete opposite from my daughter of the same age.

I didn't take Madam Catherina's words lightly. There was a reason why she had told us all of this, and truthfully—I didn't want to find out.

"Every single thing that reaches your ear and wasn't supposed to will stay within this mansion," she continued. "Don't forget the non-disclosure agreement you have all agreed to sign. Follow the rules."

"And what if we don't?" one woman beside me dared to ask.

A chuckle escaped from Madam's lips, followed by a heavy sigh. "Well then, I suppose we'd be sending you back to where you came from... in a body bag." she muttered.

"E-Excuse me, Madam?"

"Nothing!" Madam clapped her hands. "Now, back to your posts, everyone! I expect everything to be impeccable. Remember, perfection is the standard here!"

***

With a damp rag in my hand, I scrubbed the marble floors. Looking at the clock, I could not believe it had only been one hour. The time seemed to move in slow motion.

My back ached as I worked myself to the bone, but I didn't stop. Madam Catherina had eyes everywhere, and losing this job was the last thing I needed at the moment.

My focus was interrupted when a maid from the opposite end of the hallway began sweeping the floor toward me. It was a new face, one I had not seen with the recruits from earlier.

The blonde maid showed me a soft smile, and I hesitantly gave her one in return. Interacting with new people had never been my strong suit. I wasn't shy, not at all. I was just a strong believer that fewer faces meant less drama.

"Hey there," the maid lowered herself to the floor, breaking the silence. "I'm Liza."

"Jimena," I introduced myself, wringing the rag in my hand. "But you can call me Mena."

"So, how's your first day going?" Liza asked, her eyes full of curiosity.

"Ah, it's... it's alright," I replied, focusing my gaze back on the polished floor. I bet Madam Catherina also had ears everywhere. "Have you been working here for a long time?"

"Just a year," she said, a small laugh escaping her lips. "Feels like forever sometimes, though."

I rolled my eyes before taking a huff. "I can imagine."

"So what brings you here, Jimena?"

This was the part I didn't like regarding meeting new people. She had asked me a question, and she expected me to answer.

"I... I just needed a change," I finally responded, twisting the truth. I feared sharing the real reason might make Liza run off, or worse, tell others, which would escalate in people pitying me. "I'm from a small town in Texas. There's not really much to do."

The truth was much harsher. I had run from my abusive ex, carrying my daughter, Natalie, with nothing more than the clothes on our backs. After a month of working at a diner for silly pay, I was desperate for stability. I wanted my daughter to have a better life than I did. I needed her to have that.

Both my parents were deadbeats, but she had a mother that cared. One willing to do anything for her.

"A change is good!" Liza responded. "I'm from the countryside myself. It's quiet, peaceful, but too peaceful, you know? I also needed something different."

But was it really that bad to live peacefully? Working for the Fanuccis had not exactly been at the top of my list. If it wasn't for him, I would kill to get back to the countryside.

Our conversation was cut short by the sound of approaching footsteps, followed by a gasp leaving Liza's mouth. Suddenly, her hand clutched mine.

"Get up and clear the path," she whispered hurriedly. "Come on!"

Scrambling to my feet, I could see that all the other maids did the same and moved against a wall.

As I joined them, my eyes shifted down the hall, and there they were.

The infamous Fanucci brothers.

Dante, Gian, and Alessio.

In an instant, I looked at Alessio who stood in the center and buzzed with authority. His looks were dangerously charming. His dark hair, almost black, was slicked back, and his piercing brown eyes focused straight ahead. He was handsome, eye candy actually, and anyone denying it would've been stupid.

"Keep your head down, Mena," Liza breathed into my ear, her voice barely above a whisper. "You do not want to give them the impression that you're interested."

I gasped softly, instantly bowing my head so low that I was practically staring at my worn-out shoes. Grabbing the attention of one of the brothers was not something I desired.

Nervously, I held my breath until the footsteps passed.

Still, I couldn't help but take a peek. Unfortunately, Dante Fanucci had chosen that exact moment to glance back, and our eyes met.

His brows arched upon noticing my gaze, and then he shot me a flirtatious wink. A wicked grin was plastered on his olive skin, and his hazel eyes seemed determined. They were still kind. A sharp contrast to the cold vibe of his two elder brothers.

Dante turned his heel, twisting back around, and my heart pounded like a drum in my chest. Lowering my gaze was not an option as he marched towards me with a goal.

His two brothers followed suit, and then they stood in front of me.

"You're new here, aren't you?" Dante asked, his tone carrying a hint of mischief.

"Y-Yes, sir." I stuttered. We were probably around the same age, but I wouldn't dare speak informally to the son of Dom Fanucci.

"And your name?"

"Jimena." I managed, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks.

Shamelessly, Dante scanned my body up and down before his eyes landed on my hands, still filthy from all the work I had done. I instinctively hid them behind my back, embarrassed by my appearance.

"You've been working hard today," Dante said. "You deserve a break. Come, have a drink in my room. We can get to know each other a bit better."

"N-No, thank you, Sir." I kindly replied. "I should get back to work."

"I wasn't asking, Jimena." Although his tone had become a bit more demanding, his gaze was still polite and soft.

I bit my lip nervously, my stomach turning with anxiety as I had run out of words to say. I should've known, there was no saying no to a Fanucci. It just wasn't as easy as that.

Was this what Madam Catherina and Liza had been warning me about?

I opened my mouth, but before I could respond, Alessio stepped in, patting Dante's back.

His sharp eyes met mine as he spoke to his younger brother. "She doesn't want to, Dante. I'm afraid you've been rejected," Alessio told him, his tone expressing a hint of amusement.

I could not see it in his eyes, though. I doubted that man was capable of laughing.

A rush of relief washed over me at Alessio's gesture. He didn't do it for me. It was to prove a point to his younger brother, but it was still appreciated.

Dante shrugged, rotating his eyes as he made a nonchalant sound in the back of his throat.

Gian chuckled, shaking his head. "Rejected by a maid, I've seen it all now!" He commented, casually offending me as if it was an everyday thing to him.

"Yeah whatever, it's fine," Dante accepted with a careless wave of his hand. A challenging smile appeared on his lips. "Then I guess I'll see you around, Jimena."

With that being said, the three brothers walked away.

All it took was one second.

One second to make eye contact, and a few more seconds for them to find out my name.

What had I done?

Mena.

As I approached the familiar doorstep of my next-door neighbor, Mrs. Rodriquez, I could already hear the faint hum of a television set and Natalie's cheerful giggling.

I knocked on the door, which swung open, revealing the warm, and welcoming expression of Mrs. Rodriquez. "Hi, Jimena," she greeted, her smile crinkling the corners of her eyes. Mrs. Rodriquez was a kind older lady who lived alone in the apartment next to mine. She was a good person and would often offer to pick up and look after Natalie after school.

I trusted her, and it was a kindness I would forever be indebted to.

"I came to pick up Natalie," I spoke, returning her smile.

"Naty!" The woman turned her head. "Your mommy is here!"

As she turned back to face me, I caught her staring at my uniform, silently judging me. Knowing what was about to come, I fidgeted with the ends of my dress.

"Jimena, do you really have to work for that family? Isn't there any other way?" she asked, her tone heavy with concern.

I shrugged, the weight of her words settling heavily on my shoulders. "I have to pay the bills somehow, Mrs. Rodriquez, and the diner just wasn't enough," I explained. "I'd also like to buy something new for Natalie once in a while."

Truthfully, I didn't need much for myself, but I wanted Naty to grow up without a constant cloud of worry hanging over her head.

A sigh left Mrs. Rodriquez's lips, followed by a pitiful frown. "I'm not a big fan of that family, Jimena," she didn't mind giving her opinion. "You must be oblivious to the real state of that family since you've only been here for a few months."

Hoping she would drop the conversation, I waved my hand dismissively. "Oh well."

She looked around nervously, so no one could hear us, before leaning in closer. "It's so bad they've even run the authorities out of the city. Everything belongs to the Fanuccis."

A chill ran down my spine but I quickly pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the sound of light footsteps approaching.

"Hi, Mommy!" Naty's voice broke through my thoughts, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Her dark brown hair was not quite as neatly braided as I left it in the morning, but her rosy cheeks dimpling with her wide smile made up for that mess.

Mrs. Rodriquez patted Natalie's head, showing her affection. Natalie was the spitting image of me, from her long brown hair to her warm brown eyes. I was grateful every day that she bore no resemblance to that monster.

"Naty has already had dinner and taken a shower. She's ready for bed."

"Thank you, Mrs. Rodriquez."

"B-Bed?" Naty's face fell, a tiny pout forming on her lips. "Awh, but I didn't even get to spend time with you today, Mommy!"

"Tomorrow, Naty," I reached out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear before offering Mrs. Rodriquez a final smile. Then I took Naty's hand in mine as we made our way to our apartment.

***

As we sat at the table, Naty immediately reached to pull a drawing from her backpack. "Look Mommy, I made this at school today!"

She showcased a beautiful and detailed landscape, perhaps a bit too advanced of a drawing for a six-year-old.

"It's beautiful, princess." I took the paper in my hands, but my voice sounded bittersweet.

I knew she had a gift for drawing and painting. I had high hopes to enroll her in a private elementary academy, with a special art program, in the city. Unfortunately, I almost fainted when I read the fee and accepted that it was just not possible.

Although I enjoyed staring at her art, it also made me feel guilty as it was a harsh reminder of the opportunity I just couldn't afford to give her, despite trying so hard.

"How was school?" I asked, attempting to shift the focus of our conversation.

"Good," she shrugged.

"And what did you do in school today?" I asked further, looking for more than just a one-word answer.

Naty retorted with a playful giggle. "Whatever it is six-year-olds do at school, Mommy,"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Okay, Miss Smarty Pants," I called her out.

With her sassy attitude and snarky remarks, Naty's personality was also identical to mine. The only difference was that she always spoke her mind while I tried to keep it to myself. She was also way better at making friends.

"Mommy?" Naty blinked. "Do you like your new job? Are the people nice? Is the house very big?" she bombarded me with questions.

I had made it a point not to share too much about my job with Naty. She was too young, and I didn't want her to bear the weight of my decisions, especially one that had the potential of painting us in a questionable light.

I feared once they would find out I was a Fanucci maid, the mothers at school would tell their children to stop talking to her.

Mrs. Rodriquez had told me it would be like that, and after hearing stories about the Fanuccis, I believed her. People were too afraid to associate with their kind, in fear of crossing them.

Between that, they made no separation between a family member, associate, or a simple worker at the mansion.

"My day was great, Naty, and the people are all very nice. And the house? It looks like a palace!" I replied, trying to sound enthusiastic.

"Wow!" Natalie's eyes widened in awe.

I couldn't help but think back to my earlier interaction with the Fanucci brothers, and how uncomfortable it had made me. I hated cleaning, the job was terrible, the brothers seemed like spoiled entitled brats. It had only been day one, but I was already hoping I would never have to see the lady of the house or Domenico Fanucci. Those were my real thoughts.

"I know you have to work a lot to pay for big people things, Mommy. But once Daddy is here, you won't have to feel tired anymore," Naty placed her small hand on top of mine.

I nodded, forcing a smile on my face. I felt like a fraud for lying to Naty. She believed that her father would soon join us. In reality, we hadn't just moved from our previous city, we'd fled.

Becoming a young mother with no further goal for the future, I decided to move in with Anson so we could raise our daughter.

But he had changed a lot after high school, and was not who I thought he would be. Anson was not a man anyone should ever be around.

After giving up on his NFL dreams, and his scholarship, to work in construction, and take care of me and Natalie—he had changed into a possessive, aggressive and cruel individual.

His verbal abuse had soon escalated to physical abuse over the years, and I had lost count of how many black eyes I'd had to conceal.

The day he threatened to hurt Natalie for my apparent misbehavior, was the day I decided to leave him forever.

She didn't know.

How could I ever tell Naty that her beloved daddy was a monster?

"Look at the time, Naty. You better get to bed," I said, standing up.

"No," Naty sulked in a small voice, pouting her lips.

Ignoring her protest, I scooped her into my arms and carried her to her room. Not long after, I tucked her under a warm, fluffy blanket and watched as she fell asleep in a span of minutes.

Afterwards, I retired to the couch and switched on the TV. Although my body cried out for sleep, I refused to let it win. I wouldn't let my life become a never-ending loop of work and sleep more than it already was.

As I flipped through channels, a sudden ring of the phone jolted me. Puzzled, I looked at the screen, and the unknown number which had appeared.

I was hesitant, but I picked it up either way.

"Hello?" I greeted.

All I heard was heavy breathing.

"Hello?" I tried again, my heart beating out my chest. Once again, there was the same breathing sound.

I wanted to believe it was a prank call, but I couldn't. I felt sick to my stomach and the anxiety took over as I went through all possible scenarios.

What if it was him?

Anson.

What if he'd found my new number?

I hung up abruptly. In a swift motion, I rushed to close all the curtains and ran to the door to make use of the extra locks I had installed for security.

My breath came in quick gasps, each exhale worse than before as I trembled with panic.

"This isn't real... this isn't real."

It was so bad, I sank to the floor, with my back against the cold, hard door.

"Calm down, Mena," I muttered to myself, struggling to catch my breath. "It's nothing, and you're probably just overthinking it."

That must've been it.