Chapter 1 - The Boyfriend I Needed by Tomorrow
# “I NEED A BOYFRIEND BY TOMORROW!” — THE MAFIA BOSS OVERHEARD HIS MAID, AND HIS NEXT WORDS CHANGED EVERYTHING
“I need a boyfriend by tomorrow.”
I whispered those words while wiping tears from my cheeks.
I thought I was alone in the mansion.
Then a deep male voice spoke behind me.
“What time is the event?”
My heart nearly stopped.
I turned.
Roman Rossi stood in the doorway, watching me.
Chicago's most feared Mafia boss had heard everything.
“Sir, I wasn't talking to you!”
“I know.”
He took one step closer.
“I'll go with you.”
I stared at him.
“To my sister's wedding?”
His expression didn't change.
“As your boyfriend.”
And that was the moment I realized my terrible evening was about to become something much more dangerous.
My name is Sadi.
At twenty-six, I worked as a housemaid inside one of Chicago's most intimidating private mansions.
The marble floors gleamed. Crystal chandeliers hung above rooms larger than my childhood home. Every piece of furniture probably cost more than I earned in six months.
And everything belonged to Roman Rossi.
Thirty-eight years old. Tall, muscular, dark-haired, and covered in tattoos that disappeared beneath expensive black suits.
Powerful businessmen lowered their voices when he entered a room.
His security guards never questioned his orders.
I had worked in his mansion for almost a year, and we had exchanged fewer than twenty sentences.
Until that evening.
I had just received a phone call from my mother.
My younger sister was getting married, and the rehearsal dinner was tomorrow night.
Everyone would be there.
Including my ex-boyfriend.
The same man who had publicly embarrassed me after our breakup.
My mother had already decided where I would sit.
Near the kitchen.
Away from the important family photographs.
“It's better that way, sweetheart,” she'd said. “You understand.”
I understood perfectly.
My family was embarrassed by me.
No husband. No successful career. No expensive clothes.
Just a maid who spent her days cleaning someone else's mansion.
After ending the call, I stood beside the marble counter and began crying.
That was when Roman found me.
And when he offered to accompany me, I honestly thought he was mocking me.
“Mr. Rossi, this isn't funny.”
“I'm not laughing.”
“You don't even know my family.”
“I don't need to.”
He studied my face.
“Tell me when to arrive.”
I should have refused.
But there was something strangely comforting about the idea of walking into that dinner beside a man nobody would dare humiliate.
Still, I wasn't completely foolish.
I knew Roman Rossi's reputation.
So I gave him three conditions.
“No guns.”
His eyebrow lifted.
“No threats.”
He folded his arms.
“And you have to pretend you actually like me.”
For the first time, he smiled.
“I can manage that.”
What I didn't know was that Roman had his own reason for accepting.
A private meeting involving powerful men from his organization was scheduled for the same evening.
Attending my sister's rehearsal dinner would provide the perfect public explanation for his whereabouts.
To him, our arrangement was convenient.
To me, it was survival.
The following evening, I stood outside the mansion wearing an elegant emerald-green gown.
My hair fell in soft waves over my shoulders.
For once, I didn't try to make myself invisible.
Then a black luxury SUV pulled into the driveway.
Roman stepped out wearing a perfectly tailored charcoal-black suit.
He looked at me.
And kept looking.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
“No.”
“Then why are you staring?”
He approached, his expression unreadable.
“You're not sitting near the kitchen tonight.”
I swallowed.
“Where am I sitting?”
Roman opened the passenger door.
“Table four.”
My stomach dropped.
That was my ex-boyfriend's table.
And when Roman offered me his hand, I realized he wasn't planning to hide me from anyone.
He was taking me directly toward the people who had spent years making me feel worthless.
But what frightened me most wasn't the possibility that my family would discover our relationship was fake.
It was the look Roman gave me when I placed my hand in his.
May you like
As though he'd already forgotten this was supposed to be a performance.
And I had no idea what he intended to do when we reached table four.
