I Was The Mafia’s Maid Now I’m Their Regret Chapter 02
“Hey. Get up.”
Nico pounded on my bedroom door.
He was wearing the Gucci sneakers Mom had just bought him.
I checked the clock.
“It’s only six.”
“You’re a light sleeper anyway. Get up and make me breakfast.”
He leaned against the doorframe, radiating attitude.
He knew I hadn’t slept well.
And still, his first thought was to send me to the kitchen.
Sometimes I felt less like his sister and more like a servant to the future head of the family.
He never called me Cosima.
Just “hey.”
At least Francesca used my name.
After breakfast, Nico rode off to school on the motorcycle he’d gotten six months ago, a black sedan from his security detail following close behind.
My father stood at the door, ready to drive Francesca to her dance company.
Francesca had been working for three years, but Father still treated her like the Family’s protected eldest daughter. Her troupe often performed at gatherings hosted by allied families.
When he saw me, he said what he always said.
“Cosima, be careful on the bus.”
“Mm-hm.”
He didn’t know there was no bus at this hour.
He didn’t know I’d wanted a bicycle for years and still didn’t have one.
And they certainly didn’t know that Francesca’s route to the dance company passed right by my school.
They had never once asked if I wanted a ride.
I had just reached the school gates when a text from Nico came through.
“Hey, Francesca told you to delete those records from the group chat. Why haven’t you?”
I didn’t reply. As I was about to put my phone away, another text arrived.
“Don’t forget to bring me lunch at noon. The heir can’t eat food from just anywhere. It has to come from our kitchen.”
“No time.”
I texted back immediately.
He didn’t reply, but a few minutes later he updated his Instagram story.
In the photo, he was leaning against his motorcycle with the black security car behind him, a smug look on his face.
The truth was, I did have time.
I just didn’t want to go.
I had done enough stepping aside for the heir.
For once, I wanted to see what they would do if I didn’t.
Would my parents go?
Would they send Francesca?
At eleven that morning, my father sent a message to the family group.
“Who’s free to bring Nico lunch from the house?”
Francesca: “I’m at rehearsal.”
Mom: “I’m having coffee with a capo’s wife.”
Father: “Cosima, take time off from school and go.”
I stared at the screen, saying nothing.
Then my father tagged me directly.
“The heir’s safety comes first. With your grades, it doesn’t matter how hard you try, you’re not getting into any school worth mentioning. You’d be better off helping the future head of the family.”
No school worth mentioning.
In their eyes, compared to Francesca, whose path was paved with connections, and Nico, who had skipped grades and was being groomed as the heir, my academic performance was nothing special.
They just assumed I’d go to some mediocre college, then come home to work for the Family.
“I understand,” I typed slowly.
As I looked out the window, a question drifted into my mind.
If I really disappeared, would they even care?
If one day they couldn’t reach me, would they lock down intersections and dispatch men everywhere, the way they would if they lost contact with Francesca or Nico?
I didn’t have to think about the answer.
No.
When I brought the lunch to the basketball court, Nico was in the middle of a game.
The moment he saw me, he walked over.
“What took you so long? I’m starving.”
A few girls who had been watching him play crowded around, their eyes shifting from him to me as they asked who I was.
He didn’t even glance my way. He just said, casually,
“Our maid.”
I froze.
I lowered my head and opened his Instagram.
The pinned photo was of Francesca dancing at a Family charity dinner.
The caption read: *I have the best sister in the world.*
I scrolled down for a long time.
There wasn’t a single post about me.
Looking at the screen, I felt a strange calm settle over me.
In that moment, I understood.
From now on, I would only live for myself.