"Rylie, get lost!"

"Rylie, give that to me!"

"You bitch, leave me alone and let me go!"

Rylie threw my apron out and quickly locked the door.

"Stop acting like a child!"

Then she threw her notepad on my face.

'YOU ARE NOT GOING TO WORK! THAT'S FINAL!'

"You cannot decide for me. I want to do the duties so I will do them."

She furiously motioned me to turn the page.

'You will rest and you will...'

My eyes diluted in confusion. "I will what?"

"Mouu...n." She whispered, her eyes slowly softening up.

I laughed bitterly. "There's no point in doing that. I am alive, aren't I? I am not mourning for my life."

It's been a few days since I came back from my ruined home and argued with capo. When the capo said that I would have to live in the room beside his again, I walked away without saying any other word. No arguments. No comments. No last looks. I was already tired of everything and was getting tired of his so-called promises and clauses.

I went straight to my quarters, knocked on the door and waited for Rylie to wake up and open the door. When she did, she wasn't surprised to see me. She was just shocked.

I cried for the rest of the night, feeling alone and lost.

The next few days were... confusing.

Rylie force fed me my meals, pushed me to take a shower, stayed awake with me till I passed out due to excessive crying, took care of me when I woke up in the middle of the night, gasping for air and sobbing when I started suffering from nightmares after years and took as many breaks as she could only to stay with me while I kept staring into space, broken and dead to my loved ones.

If this isn't true friendship, then I don't know what it is. 

I realised that I am not that alone in my life. I have Rylie. Even though she still refuses to open her bottled up frustration or anger or whatever she feels about her lost voice (she can still speak a few words) and ruined taste buds, she looked after me. When I finally had the courage to speak about what exactly happened, she cried with me.

Rylie writes that I should take my time to get over it, mourn for my old life and think on the positive side. Even after finding certain things in my bedroom, they did continue to search for me. They gave up soon after that, but they did thought about themselves and carried on with their lives... leaving me behind.

I laughed at myself after reading that.

Silly me. Thought about myself instead of them and what they must have gone through.

"Ry, don't give me that look." I muttered, "I don't like it. Give me my apron and let's go to work."

She shook her head, puffing her cheeks.

"For a twenty six year old woman, you sure know how to act like a six year old." She giggled in response and quickly scribbled something in her notepad.

'And you know how to act as if you are fine.'

I scoffed. "I am fine."

'You are not. Take another day off.'

"I don't want to." I confessed. "At least not anymore. I am tired of doing nothing for the past few days. Maybe doing those household duties will help me as a distraction?"

She frowned and wrote, 'You sure?'

"Yeah, I am. Now let's get to work before that grandma comes after us."

Speaking of grandma, Louisa has vanished into thin air. She didn't even pay a visit to me nor she even bothered to have a conversation with Rylie after I came back. That woman is weird. Before I landed on the Agostini son, she was all cheery and friendly to me and at least made a simple conversation with me once a day. Now, I don't even know where she is.

Rylie shook her head in amusement and unlocked the door. I picked up my apron and mentally prepared myself for facing the rest of the staff.

When I stepped into the kitchen, I felt something was wrong. Even though it has been over a month since I hadn't reported for my duties as a housekeeper and a cleaner since I was shot, I took my place near the sink, wore gloves and started washing the dishes as if nothing had ever happened.

I did notice the looks everybody was giving me, but it didn't felt right. I did realise that they must have been told to shut their mouths and not to ask any questions yet something felt missing.

Or rather someone...

"Where's Michael?" I blurted out when I saw that our dear young grumpy chef wasn't present.

The whole kitchen went dead silent.

"Well?"

Nobody answered me. Were these guys told not to talk with me or something?

"Is he sick?"

One of the maids who was standing near me, tugged my sleeve. I saw the remorse and pity in her eyes as she slowly shook her head.

What in the...oh.

Oh.

Rage grew in me. I pulled out the hand gloves, threw it in the sink and stormed out of the kitchen. How could I forget this? It was one of the rules. If you don't see a person for over a week, you do not ask where that person is.

Too bad that I have got the golden permission to not to follow any.

"Adrian, is he in there?" I shouted, gaining a few turns of head as soon as I got the first glimpse of the familiar blonde hair across the hallway.

Adrian's face paled as if he had seen a ghost. "A-Amelia, I—we—ho-how are you? We haven't had a ch—"

"Is he in there?"

"Si." He gulped.

"And he is not doing any hanky panky nakey business?"

"Si."

"That's good. See ya later."

Then I pushed open the door and shut it loudly.

The Agostini son was sitting on his chair, typing. He peeked over his laptop screen and smiled. That shitty faced son actually gave me a proper smile then his eyes went back to the glowing screen.

"Buongiorno, little girl. Long time no see."

"Morning, my ass! What did you do to our chef?"

"Who?"

"What did you to do Michael?!"

"Michael who?" The constant tapping of keys in the silent room was annoying the hell out of me and so was his playing innocent attitude.

"Don't act dumb with me. You know who Michael is! Pathetic attitude, always handing me a dishwashing liquid and warning me about the usage whenever I would ask him fetch me one and makes really good pasta and God knows what other international dishes!" I was panting heavily by the time I finished rambling everything I knew about that poor fellow yet the Agostini son was unfazed and continued typing swiftly.

"I do not know any Michael, signorina." He said coolly.

"Liar."

"Think what you want to think, but I don't know what you are talking about, or should I say screaming about." A teeny tiny smirk was clearly seen on his face.

I took deep breaths to calm myself down. "Fine. You don't know who he is, but you must know what happened to him, right?"

"Of course I do." He answered casually.

"And...?"

"And...?" He copied. That man is sure having fun with me right now.

"What happened to him?"

His eyes flickered to me then went back to the screen. "First let me place an order for your laptop then we'll chat. You can make yourself comfortable by sitting on the chair in front of me."

I stayed firm on my spot, glaring at him.

"Hmm. No sitting then."

"What happened to Michael?" I asked, feeling bad for him.

"We both know what happened to him, don't we?" He replied smugly.

I cursed under my breath. "Why? He was a good man."

Shutting the laptop close, he leaned back on his chair and placed his hands over his head. "I may or may not have heard about a chef arguing about undercooked chicken with one of my men."

My lips twisted. "Undercooked chicken?"

"Si. Undercooked chicken made the chef go under...ground." He sat up straight, his mouth part open in surprise. "Haha! That's a very good joke!"

I kept staring at him in shock. "Underground or under ground?"

He grinned mischievously. "When your laptop arrives in a few hours, do make sure that you revise your simple grammar lessons online or perhaps you could use the library? You are free to do anything you want."

I felt something tugging in my chest. "Michael...is dead."

He tapped his chin, imitating as if he is in deep thought and hummed. "If that is what you want to think, it's your wish. I would say—undercooked chicken made the chef go under ground! Has a nice rhyme to it, doesn't it?"

"Whatever!" I snapped. "Your men are crazy people. Killing a person over an argument for an undercooked chicken? That's low. That's shameful. Michael didn't deserve this. Nobody does."

I have no idea how I am going to survive in this mansion now.

He shrugged. "But he did. Those are the rules which you don't have to follow anymore except the part where you are not allowed to roam at the top floor."

I crossed my arms. "There's nothing I can do about this, right?"

"Absolutely!" He chirped. Is something wrong with this man? He is behaving really...weirdly energetic. Happy with casual sarcasm intended. Either he is planning something fishy or it is just one of the abnormal days where Leonardo Agostini is a happy man. "So tell me, little girl, how are you coping up with family things?"

"That's none of your business!"

"Perfectly fine, I presume. Life goes on blah blah blah. Are you ready to shift back to the room beside mine?"

Unable to control myself, I threw my head back and laughed. I laughed! For what it felt like days and it actually were days since I had a good laugh. The Agostini son had a small smile tugged on his lips as he watched me having a fit of laughter.

"Y-You...you are joking again, right? Because that is hilarious!"

He cocked his head slightly to right. "Well, are you?"

My laughter died down in my throat. "W-What?"

"Are you?" He asked again.

"Are you what?"

"Shifting back. The room. Beside mine."

I felt something dreadful settling down in the pit of my stomach. "I...I...Why?"

"Simple. Because I want you to."

Something tells me that there is a deep, deep meaning hidden behind those simple words. And I wasn't going to stay anymore longer here to find the meaning.

"I-I should leave." I bowed my head slightly. "Sorry for the disturbance, c-capo, but Michael didn't deserve this. Dead due to an argument over uncooked chicken i-is bad. I do hope that you will, um, tell your men to control their killing urges."

"Oh, will I?" His eyes lit up in amusement. "Why don't you tell them yourself?"

My face paled. "M-Me?"

"Si, you."

"How?"

He shrugged again. "Join us for famiglia dinner this Saturday night."

I swear if I looked myself in the mirror right now, my face would be whiter than a whitewash.

"Fa-Family dinner? As in all those hundreds of men in a room, eating?" I squeaked.

"No. We are not hundreds. We are only one hundred and two physically present. Excluding my padre because he always have his dinner in his room." He explained casually. "The rest of the seven hundred and ninety seven you are talking about are currently out dealing with our business, but worry not, Amelia, because they will be available online, irrespective of the timezones in the place they are staying at. There are a few more hundreds left out, but I need to check them because they happen to be working in secret."

Sometimes I really forget how big this place is and how big and powerful this family is.

"Right," I laughed nervously. "You want me to explain these men that they should not go shooting innocent people when they argue over uncooked chicken?"

He shook his head. "They didn't shoot Michael, signorina. They burned him to prove that burnt chicken is better than undercooked chicken."

Oh freaking flaking fish. I think I am going to be sick.

He grinned at my sick and pale face. "But in my personale opinion, I like alive chickens. Always running here and there, clucking, bickering for seeds and poking unnecessary things. They are quite energetic too. They just make my day."

I swallowed hard. "R-Right. Absolutely right. Can I ask you a question?"

"Ask away."

"Are you out of your non-existent mind?!" I screeched which actually made him wince and rub his ears. "I can't just go and barge into one of your 'dinners'! I clean up after you and your men have your dinner. I don't sit among you guys because I happen to be a mere housekeeper—"

He banged on his desk with his fist loudly which made me jump in fear.

"Listen to me, signorina Jones, and you better listen it carefully." Long gone was the abnormal happy Leonardo Agostini and came back the monster I have been knowing for months. His eyes had turned ice cold, but the emotion on his face was a colder one. "You are not just a mere housekeeper. You are much, much more than that. You get that thought out of your head or else I'll have to take some measures to do it on behalf of you. Are we clear?"

Silence.

"Amelia, are we clear?"

More silence.

"Amy."

A strange warmness washed over me and my eyes slowly went to the monster who was now standing right in front of me.

"I will not hurt you." He murmured, the coldness in his eyes turning into softness. "I just want a yes or a no for an answer. You are not just a mere housekeeper, I know that very well now and it's for the best that you know that too. Are we clear?"

"Y-Yes."

He nodded in response. "Saturday night, eight o'clock, the dining room. I do presume that you know your way to the dining room and do prepare about what you want to say."

My eyes widened. "S-Speech? Prepare? I am not going to attend any dinner which involves men in suits!"

"Please."

I gasped dramatically and pointed an accusing finger at him. "That word doesn't work on me, mister. Not anymore!"

He cursed under his breath. "How do you say this?"

"Say what?"

"Um, pretty please?"

I muffled a giggled. "Keep trying. I'll go back to work."

His eyes narrowed to slits. "I expect you to be present at the dinner and speak what you want to speak about. That's final!"

I faked a yawn. "Whatever. I have the permission to not to follow any orders."

"That's not an order!"

"Yeah, yeah, and Rome is not the capital of Italy."

"Rome is the capital of Italy!"

"That's it. I'm leaving. I now know what I wanted to know." I faked a curtsey and gave him a pure fake charming smile. "Thank you for your undivided attention and cooperation."

"Amelia, wait!" He tried to grab my wrist but I pulled away as a reflex.

"Don't touch me, Leonardo. You have done enough." I gritted.

"You still haven't answered me." He said, ignoring my previous statement.

"About what?" I snapped.

"About moving back to the room beside mine." He answered.

"Why do you even want me there? If this is about pity and shit, I don't need any—"

"It's not."

"—of it. I will not be leaving Rylie alone nor I want that stupid room of yours. You also happen to be a very bad neighbour."

"Just think about it."

"No." I said, loud and clear. "I am not going to go back to that room ever again."

With that I left his office, leaving behind a stunned capo who likes his chicken alive and clucking.

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