Marrying the Mafia's Daughter

MAVERICK

For a woman who had lived through the worst, been to hell, and come back, I couldn’t believe I made it through another day.

“You look exhausted. Take a day off,” my boss, Rocco, said as a greeting. He was also my friend and owned the Bazz Village Bar in downtown New York.

I looked over at him as I put on the apron. “No thanks. I need money.”

“We all need money, Maverick, but you can use a rest.” He was almost glaring, but tonight was Saturday, and the tip would be good.

“You want me to be out of your hair and off your couch? Then I need money to rent an apartment.” I shut my locker harshly. When my ex broke up with me and kicked me out of the apartment, Rocco let me crash at his place upstairs. That was three weeks ago.

My ex was a dirtbag and a cheat. I couldn’t believe I was so blind and didn’t figure out sooner that he had been cheating on me. The same day he broke up with me, he brought his girlfriend to the apartment we shared.

I couldn’t stomach the thought they were banging in our bedroom, so I decided to leave and accept Rocco’s offer. Yes, my life was a mess.

“You’re killing yourself.” He sighed like he was too tired of my shit. “If you just take the money—”

“No.” I walked past him to punch in. He chased me out, but I decided not to let him talk. “Just let me work in peace, okay?”

“Just want to let you know that you have a friend.” His brown eyes turned serious.

“Yay. Thanks.”

I just walked into the bar, and it was already crowded. I recognized a man in his early 30s, always in his neat black suit and tie. He probably worked for a prominent rich guy as a service detail.

“Same?” I smiled.

“Yup.” A gentle smile moved on his lips.

I poured a scotch on the rocks like he always ordered and placed it before him as he slid on the stool. “There you go, sir.”

I went to another customer, a beautiful woman with artsy, manicured fingers. “Can I interest you with something strong, miss?”

“Just Manhattan. Thank you.” She seemed to have carried the world over her shoulder.

“I thought you’re off tonight.”

I prepared Manhattan and turned to Genesis, a pretty petite blonde around my age. “Did Rocco tell you that?”

“No. You’ve been working three weeks straight.”

“A girl gotta eat, GG.”

She chuckled. “Are you still looking for an apartment?”

“How did you know?” News traveled fast, and I wasn’t entirely surprised. I didn’t tell anyone but Rocco.

“I know you’ve been staying upstairs for days now. If it makes you feel better, my roommate just left yesterday to be with her fiance. Although some of her boxes are still in her room, if you’re interested, let me know.”

“How far is your