The Mafia's Contract

JOAN'S POV

Sadness. Confusion.

These were the emotions that filled my heart as I sat in the hospital room. My heart felt like a heavy weight in my chest, and my mind swirled with so many thoughts and emotions. I had no idea what to do.

The beeping of the heart monitor filled the room. It was a reminder of my mother's fragile state. Each beep was a signal that she was still here, but only just. I watched her, my heart breaking at the sight. Tubes and wires were attached to her limp body, her chest rising and falling shallowly. Her face, once so full of life, was now pale. Her lips were colorless, as she lay motionless in the hospital bed.

It felt like only moments ago that I was job hunting and them the call came. The panic in the nurse's voice told me everything before the words even registered. My mother had suffered a heart attack. The ambulance had rushed her here, but she had slipped into a coma.

A lump formed in my throat as I gazed at her. She had always been my rock. Now, it was my turn to be strong for her, but I didn't know how.

Tears filled my eyes as I thought about how far we had fallen. How had it come to this? I looked at the ceiling, trying to calm myself but it was no use.

Hospitals were supposed to be places of healing, yet to me, they felt like prisons. The white walls, the harsh smell, the fluorescent lights-it all seemed designed to remind you of your sadness. The colour 'white' had always been so depressing to me.

I sighed, wishing the walls could be a different color. Maybe then, this place wouldn't feel so bad.

I looked at my mom, feeling sad once more. She didn't deserve this. I wished there was something I could do to help.

I had no money, no job, no way to pay for the treatment she needed. I'd spent all my savings trying to keep up with her piling medical bills, and now, there was nothing left. I had dropped out of school to take care of her, to work any job I could find. But even that wasn't enough.

I had a stable job once, as a secretary in a good firm. It wasn't glamorous, but it paid the bills-until my boss decided that my body was part of the job description. I tried to tolerate it, to keep quiet for the sake of my paycheck, but the day his hand slipped under my skirt, I knew I couldn't stay. I walked out, knowing I would be left with nothing, but at least, my dignity would be intact. Yet there were moments, when the fear of losing everything made me question if I should have just put up with it.

I felt like a failure. My mother had always been so strong, so sure of herself, and I couldn't even protect her now. My tears fell freely as I tried to think of a way out of this nightmare.

Just then, the door opened, and I quickly wiped my eyes, trying to compose myself. A doctor entered the room with a serious expression. I noticed that the collar of his lab coat was stained with a faint smear of blood. It was almost unnoticeable, but I noticed it-just as I noticed everything. This habit of fixating on details overwhelmed me sometimes, adding to my anxiety.

He glanced at me, then at my mother's still form.

"Miss Joan?" said "I'm Dr. Williams. I wanted to talk to you about your mother's condition."

I nodded. My eyes were still glued to the blood on his coat.

Who did it belong to? Was it someone else's blood or his? Was that person still alive? I knew I should be paying attention to what Dr. Williams was saying, but my mind was desperate for any distraction.

"Miss Joan?" Dr. Williams repeated, louder this time, snapping me back to the present.

I sat up straighter, forcing myself to focus.

"I'm sorry," I whispered "Please, doctor, tell me-what can we do?"

"As you know, your mother is currently in a coma. We can try different treatments, but they come with a cost."

His words made my heart drop even further. My pulse quickened, knowing that the answer I feared was coming.

"What... what kind of cost are we talking about?" My voice trembled as I asked.

"The initial treatment will cost around fifty thousand dollars, and that's just the beginning. There will be follow-up procedures, medications, rehabilitation..."

His words blurred as the numbers swirled in my head. Fifty thousand dollars? I didn't even have fifty cents to my name. My hands trembled as I clutched the arms of the chair, trying to hold on to something.

"I... I don't have that kind of money," I murmured "What am I supposed to do?"

Dr. Williams looked at me with a sympathetic expression "I understand this is a difficult situation for you. We can explore financial assistance programs, maybe discuss payment plans, but... I won't lie to you-it won't be easy."

The tears I'd been holding back broke free again, streaming down my face.

Why did life have to be so hard? Why did everything have to come down to money?

"I'll do anything, doctor," I pleaded "Please, just help my mom. She's all I have."

Dr. Williams nodded "We'll do our best. We'll find a way."

I sniffled, wiping at my tears with the back of my hand. "Thank you, doctor,"

He gave me a small, sad smile before leaving the room, and I was alone again. I moved closer to my mother, taking her hand in mine. Her skin was cold.

I had to do something. I couldn't let money be the reason my mother didn't get the care she needed. But what could I do?

As I sat there, lost in thought, the door opened again. I turned, expecting the doctor, but instead, my best friend - Bea walked in.

"Hi, sweetie," Bea said softly. "I'm so sorry."

She crossed the room quickly and wrapped me in a hug. I held on to her tightly as I sobbed.

When she pulled away, Bea looked at my mother with a sad, empathetic expression. She knew how much my mom meant to me, how hard this was she and my mom were close too.

"How are you holding up?" she asked gently.

I sighed "It's been tough, Bea. I don't know what to do. The medical bills are piling up, and I'm completely broke."

"I may have a solution to that,"

I looked at her in confusion "What do you mean?"

"Do you remember Stephanie?"

Of course, I remembered Stephanie from College. She was one of those girls who seemed to have it all-wealth, beauty, and connections. Her father was a senator, and she had always carried herself with an air of superiority that made it clear she knew exactly how powerful she was. We had never been close; in fact, she had always looked down on me.

"What about her?" I asked.

"I talked to her, and she mentioned that there's a job opening through her connections,"

My heart leaped at the thought of a job, any job. "What is it?"

"You know the billionaire Derrick Stonewood?" Bea continued. "His household is looking for a maid. But not just any maid-their maids are elite, highly paid. I managed to get Stephanie to secure a slot for you. The interview is in two days, at his estate."

She handed me an envelope. Inside was an invitation, an golden piece of paper, inviting me to an interview at the Stonewood estate. I stared at it, hardly believing what I was seeing.

Derrick Stonewood.

The name alone was filled with wealth, power, and luxury. He was a billionaire, the kind of man whose name appeared in tabloids and magazines. He was always in the news despite his low key lifestyle.

His family had a long history of wealth, with businesses spanning everything from oil and gas to technology. And Derrick himself was famous for his good looks and his status as one of America's most eligible bachelors.

Could I really work for someone like him? Would I even be good enough?

"Are you sure I can get this?" I muttered.

"Hey," Bea said, taking my hand and squeezing it. "Stephanie put in a good word for you. And besides, they're going to love you. You've got this."

I looked down at the floor, feeling a bit doubtful. This was my chance, my one shot to change everything. I had to try, for my mom's sake.

I looked up at Bea "Thank you so much."

She smiled "Anything for you, Joan. Now, come on. We've got work to do."

And with that, I started to feel hopeful. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep going, enough to keep fighting for my mom.

And as long as there was a chance, no matter how small, I wouldn't give up.

The day of the interview finally arrived, and I couldn't help but feel nervous. It turned out that Stephanie did put in a good word for me.

I received an invitation via call while I was in the hospital. They formally invited me for the interview and confirmed that my name was on the list.

When the day came, I found myself nervously adjusting the collar of the dress I had borrowed from Bea. She was just as excited about the interview as I was and had taken it upon herself to ensure I looked my best.

She chose one of her nicest red corporate dresses for me, curled my hair, and even insisted I wear makeup and heels. I had argued with her, thinking I might be overdressed, but now, sitting among the other applicants, I wished I had gone even further with my outfit.

The women around me were sophisticated. They looked like they had stepped straight out of an Instagram feed, with their perfectly styled hair, designer dresses, and expensive accessories. I saw at least five of them park their cars outside and it made me wonder how much the salary was.

I felt out of place and the others noticed it too. They judged me with their eyes, as if wondering what I was doing here. I couldn't blame them. Even I wondered the same thing.

When I stepped into the Stonewood Mansion, my breath was taken away. The place was luxurious to say the least. The Uber I took had driven me through the huge Stonewood Estate, past the tall iron gates, and into a place that seemed like a whole new world.

The mansion itself was a masterpiece, with its cream-colored stone walls. I was in awe as I looked at it. The garden was filled with beautiful flowers Stone pathways led to benches and sitting areas near the garden.

The interior was even better. The walls of the hallway we were seated was filled with different kinds of artwork. Marble sculptures stood on pedestals, and the golden light from crystal chandeliers shined against the marble floors. I felt like I was walking through a work of art.

The other applicants, however, seemed unfazed. They talked amongst themselves, clearly used to such surroundings. I did my best to maintain my composure, but my heart pounded loudly in my chest.

Eventually, a tall mature woman dressed in a blue suit approached us. She smiled warmly as she introduced herself.

"Hello, ladies," she said. "I'm Miss Sullivan, the house manager. Please follow me."

We all rose from our seats and followed her down the long hallway. Our footsteps echoed against the marble floors as we moved, and I couldn't resist stealing glances at the beautiful place. It felt surreal to be in a place like this, the kind of place I had only ever seen in movies or magazines.

Finally, we arrived at a wooden door. Miss Sullivan opened it, revealing a lovely office. I couldn't help but gasp softly as we entered. The room was decorated with more artwork, and sparkling chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. The furniture looked too luxurious to sit on, but we were directed to take seats on a row of chairs lined against the wall.

Miss Sullivan disappeared into another room inside the office, leaving us to wait. The minutes ticked by slowly. My heart was pounding so loudly that I could feel it in my ears. I stole glances at the other women, who seemed calm and composed. They chatted and laughed confidently. I, on the other hand, was too nervous to speak. I felt like an imposter, completely out of place.

Finally, Miss Sullivan returned and began calling us into the interview room one by one. I got more nervous as I watched the other applicants walk through the door The knot in my stomach tightened with every passing minute.

After what felt like an eternity, Miss Sullivan called my name.

"Miss Joan?" she said, holding a paper in her hand.

This was it. The moment I had been preparing for. I took a deep breath and stood up. I adjusted my dress, determined to make the best possible impression.

"Yes, ma'am," I replied, forcing a smile.

"Please, come in," she said, gesturing toward the door.

I followed her into the interview room. Seated at the desk was a man dressed in a suit, not Derrick Stonewood, but someone who looked equally important. .

"Please, have a seat, Miss Joan," the man said, pointing toward the chair opposite him.

"Thank you," I replied as I sat down.

I smiled, remembering Bea's advice to smile during the interview. She had always complimented my smile, saying it would give a positive impression. It seemed to work because the man smiled back at me.

Miss Sullivan handed him a folder containing my resume and application. He reviewed it briefly before speaking.

"We've reviewed your qualifications, Miss Joan," he began. "You have excellent skills."

"Thank you," I replied with a smile.

"You interned at a great firm," he continued. "They confirmed how good you were. You also got a scholarship to an impressive school. How come you didn't finish college?"

The question made my heart sink, but I had no reason to lie. I decided to be honest.

"My mom has been sick," I said. Quitting school had been one of the hardest decisions I had ever made. "I had to drop out to look for a job to take care of her. Hopefully, with a good job, I'll be able to go back to school in no time."

It took every ounce of self-restraint not to cry. I held back the tears as much as I could.

The man's eyes filled with sympathy. "I'm sorry to hear that. I hope things work out."

"Hopefully," I replied, offering a tight smile.

"Tell me, Miss Joan," he said "Why do you want to work for the Stonewood House? What makes you believe you are the right fit for this position?"

I took a moment to gather my thoughts before responding. Bea and I had practiced this question repeatedly.

"I have always been fascinated by the Stonewood family's success," I began. "The way they built their empire is inspiring. I believe that working for someone of this caliber will provide me with the experience and opportunities I need to grow. I am dedicated and hardworking, and I am confident that I can meet the high standards you expect."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by my response.

"Can you handle high-pressure situations?" he asked. "I ask this because Sir Derrick can be very demanding."

"I've worked as a waitress and also as a secretary," I replied. "I've had demanding bosses in the past, and I can thrive under pressure. I can assure you of this. I can also meet deadlines for tasks as well. I know how to prioritize."

He nodded "Good. Now, let's discuss your knowledge of fine dining etiquette. As a maid in this household, you will be required to serve guests or even Mr. Derrick himself during meal times and events. Are you familiar with proper etiquette?"

"To an extent, sir," I replied. "I took a class in high school, and I was taught the basics. I learn fast, and I would be honored to be trained further."

Miss Sullivan scribbled notes on her notepad as we spoke, and I couldn't help but feel nervous as I watched her. Was she writing bad comments?

"Very well," the man continued. "Can you handle private information?"

"Private information?" I asked, feeling a bit confused.

"This is an extremely private household," he explained. "Everything that happens here is under lock and key. Nobody else must hear about it. Can you assure us of this?"

I had no idea what kind of secrets they might be keeping, but I nodded anyway.

"Absolutely, sir."

"Okay then," he said, closing the folder. "That's all for today. We'll contact you."

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate the opportunity," I said, rising from my seat.

"You're welcome."

As soon as I stepped outside the room, I let out a deep breath I hadn't realized I was holding. The tension had made me dizzy, and I needed to find a bathroom to splash some water on my face.

I noticed a woman standing nearby in a corner. She wore a uniform, likely a worker here.

"Excuse me," I said, approaching her. "Where's the bathroom, please?"

"Go outside this room, walk down the corridor, and it's the second door on your right," she replied.

"Thank you."

I left the room, feeling dizzy. . The interview hadn't gone as badly as I had feared. The questions were manageable, and the man seemed nice. I just hoped I made a good impression.

I was so lost in my thoughts that for a moment, I forgot where I was going. All of a sudden, I bumped into a hard wall.

"Oops" I said.

To my surprise, I saw a suit and tie in front of me. I didn't hit a wall. I hit a person. I'm so clumsy.

I looked up, ready to apologize to the person. I gasped when I saw who it was.

It was Derrick fucking Stonewood.

My heart skipped a beat as I looked up to see none other than Derrick Stonewood himself standing before me.

I froze.

I couldn't move if I wanted to.

My breath got caught sharply in my throat.

Here he was, the man whose empire everyone admires is standing before me... Inches away.

We were so close to the extent that if we both made one wrong move, we would be pressed together tightly.

I was literally just right in front of him.

Derrick arched an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by my sudden presence.

I stammered, trying to find the right words. "I...I'm sorry, sir"

Derrick Stonewood stood tall before me. He was even bigger in real life than he was in his pictures. He was about two times my size. He could practically crush me if he wanted to.

I had to raise my head just to look into his eyes. His presence was commanding and magnetic.

I know I had just met him but I could tell quite some things about him just from his looks.

His tall frame exuded confidence. He was devilishly handsome and from the looks of things, he knew it.

With a chiseled jawline that could probably slice paper, he had a face that was a masterpiece of masculinity

His piercing blue eyes held a depth that seemed to draw me in. His eyes reminded me of the ocean. I had never seen anything like it up close.

His dark tousled hair added an element of ruggedness to his overall appearance.

For some reason, I had the sudden urge to stand on my tip toes and run my hands through it.

It looked so luscious. It would probably be soft under my fingers.

As I stood next to him, I couldn't help but feel a mixture of awe and nervousness.

He looked even more handsome than he did on social media or in the magazines. I know the whole female population would kill to stand in front of him.

He looked at me with curiosity and another emotion I couldn't quite decipher. The intensity of his gaze made my heart race.

A flurry of butterflies danced in my stomach. His proximity to me made me feel hot all over.

The fact that we were so close to each other made it impossible to ignore the magnetic pull I felt to him.

Every fiber of my being was acutely aware of his presence. Every single hair on my body stood at attention.

The way his tailored suit hugged his broad shoulders heightened the attraction I felt. Even from his suit jacket, I could see the fabric grip his muscles.

I could imagine those firm hands pulling me closer to him by my waist. He would hold me down firmly without even trying. He seemed that strong. It was as if he possessed a magnetism that was impossible to resist.

His captivating aura was impossible to ignore. I was drawn to him, like a moth to a flame.

In his presence, I felt a mix of emotions. Attraction swirled towards me.

It made me yearn for more and I had just met him

.

As I looked at him, the world around us seemed to fade into the background. It was just him and me, caught in a moment of undeniable connection.

Who is this man?

Wait, I know who he is already so that's not the right question.

Why does he make me feel this things?

I feel as if something has awoken inside me. I don't know what it is but I feel it.

Why do I feel this way?

I've never been this drawn to a man before.

The intensity of his gaze alone could make me melt on the spot.

I felt nervous and excited at the same time. Something inside me wants me to be the object of his attention.

He arched his eyebrow in confusion "Who are you?"

Dear Lord...

His voice was deep and hoarse at the same time.

It's the kind of voice you'd wish to hear when you wake up in the morning.

Just hearing him talk sent shivers down my spine.

I can imagine that voice whispering things in my ear... Dirty things... Telling me what he wants to do to me.

I could feel my core get hot at the thought.

What is wrong with me?

Why am I having these thoughts?

As he spoke, my eyes landed on his lips.

He had the most luscious looking lips I had ever seen.

I bet they taste just as good as they look.

I wish I could...

"Do you by any chance speak English?" he spoke.

I gulped.

He had an aura of power.

He seemed like the kind of man that people bow to his every command just at the sound of his voice. Even I felt that way and I just met him.

"My-My name is Joan, sir"

"And? What are you doing here... Joan?"

I want him to say my name again.

From his lips, my name feels like it was made for him to say it

"I'm here for an interview, sir"

He scrunched his beautiful face in confusion "Interview? What interview?"

"For a maid position"

"A maid? You know what, I don't care. Next time, Joan, watch where you're going"

Before I could open my mouth to say another word, he walked past me.

His perfume scent lingered in the air.

As he walked past, I had the urge to pull him back and sniff him in. He smelled that good.

There's no doubt that the cost of his perfume could probably pay my mother's medical bills.

I made my way to the bathroom.

As soon as I got there, I shut the door behind me and leaned on it.

I was breathing heavily. I have no idea why I was out of breath.

I felt hot all over which is weird because the mansion is air conditioned all over.

I let out a deep breath.

The events of today seem so surreal.

I just met Derrick fucking Stonewood.

I wouldn't have believed this day would come... Not even in a million years.

As I stood there, my phone buzzed indicating I had a message. I opened it to check what it was.

It read: Hello, miss Joan. You've been hired for the position. You can start tomorrow.