The streets of New York City hummed with life as Serena Lombardi stepped out of the yellow taxi, clutching her suitcase tightly. She glanced up at the towering apartment building, her new workplace, with a mixture of apprehension and determination. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and made her way inside.
Inside the opulent lobby, Serena was greeted by the sight of marble floors and golden accents, a stark contrast to her modest upbringing in Little Italy. As she approached the concierge desk, a well-dressed man looked up from his paperwork, his steely gaze meeting hers.
"Can I help you?" he asked, his voice cool and authoritative.
"I'm Serena Lombardi," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'm here for the position of house help for Mr. Marco Moretti."
The man's lips twitched in a semblance of a smile before he nodded. "Follow me," he said, leading her to the elevator.
As the elevator ascended, Serena couldn't shake the nervous flutter in her stomach. She had heard of Marco Moretti—the notorious mafia boss whose name struck fear into the hearts of many. Yet, she needed this job to support her family, and she was determined to prove herself capable.
When the elevator doors opened, Serena found herself standing in a lavish penthouse apartment. The scent of expensive cigars lingered in the air, and plush furnishings adorned every corner. At the far end of the room, a man sat behind a mahogany desk, his sharp gaze fixed on her.
"Mr. Moretti," the concierge announced, stepping aside to allow Serena to approach.
Marco Moretti's dark eyes studied her intently, assessing her every move. "You're the new house help?" he asked, his voice low and commanding.
"Yes, sir," Serena replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
Marco gestured for her to come closer, and Serena obeyed, feeling a knot form in her stomach. She couldn't afford to mess this up.
"You understand the rules of working for me, Serena?" Marco asked, his tone brooking no argument.
"Yes, Mr. Moretti," she replied quickly. "I'll do whatever is required of me."
Marco nodded, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Good. You start tonight. There's a list of tasks waiting for you in the kitchen. Don't disappoint me, Serena."
With that, Marco Moretti turned his attention back to his paperwork, effectively dismissing her. Serena swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest as she turned to leave the room. She knew she had just stepped into a world far more dangerous than anything she had ever known, but she was determined to survive—and maybe even thrive—in the shadow of the infamous Marco Moretti.
As Serena made her way to the kitchen, her mind raced with a flurry of thoughts. She couldn't shake the feeling of being under constant scrutiny, as if every move she made was being scrutinized by unseen eyes. But she pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the tasks at hand.
In the kitchen, Serena found a meticulously detailed list of instructions waiting for her on the counter. She wasted no time in getting to work, methodically cleaning and organizing every surface with precision. Despite the nerves gnawing at her, she found a sense of comfort in the familiar routine of domestic chores.
Hours passed in a blur as Serena worked tirelessly to complete her assigned tasks. She scrubbed every inch of the kitchen until it gleamed, prepared meals according to Mr. Moretti's strict dietary preferences, and tended to various other household duties. With each task she completed, she felt a sense of satisfaction wash over her, knowing that she was proving herself capable of handling the demands of her new position.
As the night wore on, Serena couldn't help but wonder what kind of man Marco Moretti truly was. His reputation preceded him—a ruthless leader with a penchant for violence and control. Yet, she had seen a fleeting glimpse of something else in his eyes—a vulnerability that belied the hardened exterior he presented to the world.
Lost in her thoughts, Serena almost didn't hear the sound of footsteps approaching from behind. She turned to find Marco Moretti standing in the doorway, his dark silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of the kitchen lights.
"You're still here," he remarked, his voice startling her out of her reverie.
"Yes, Mr. Moretti," Serena replied, quickly straightening up.
Marco stepped further into the room, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. "You've done well tonight, Serena," he said, surprising her with his praise. "I expect the same level of dedication from you every day."
Serena nodded, a surge of relief flooding through her. She had passed the first test—a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. "Thank you, Mr. Moretti," she said, mustering up a small smile.
Marco returned the gesture with a faint smirk of his own before turning to leave the room. As Serena watched him go, she couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity gnawing at her. She knew that working for Marco Moretti would be unlike anything she had ever experienced before, but she was determined to rise to the challenge—and perhaps, in the process, uncover the man behind the myth.
