The Boss Takes A Wife Book 1
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Heather Teston
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1,4M
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35
Chapter 1
The beginning of the story is short.
Gabriel Maestri grew up in Italy with his parents, Sergio and Kaia. His father was a man who expected the best from everyone, and even better from his son.
He believed that showing love or affection toward anyone, even his own family, was a sign of weakness, and he would not tolerate such things. Throughout his youth, Gabriel was groomed to become the successful, cunning, and ruthless man his father wanted him to be.
To Sergio, love meant weakness, and women were only good for a man’s pleasure in bed. A wife was just for public appearances, and a mistress was for pleasure.
He had tried to get his son to choose a wife from a wealthy family for ten years. His mother, Kaia, was not much better.
She was cold toward him, never showed him love, and he was mainly raised by nannies until he was old enough to go to boarding school. He started building his empire with his father’s backing, paying him back with interest.
He built his own home as far from his parents as he could. They never celebrated holidays together, only getting together occasionally.
***
Paige Mosley was a young woman with simple needs. She was an orphan from birth, going from one foster home to another until she reached the age considered old enough to be on her own.
She never really fit in, with her delicate features and her hair so blonde it was almost white. From the age of sixteen, she worked jobs as a waitress, babysitter, and other odd jobs, and went to school at night.
When she turned eighteen, she worked full-time as a maid at the Maestri Hotel in New York. In the three years she worked there, she made friends with the other staff members.
They became like a family of sorts. But when news came that the hotel was shutting down, a cloud of despair hung over everyone.
Many of those who worked there were getting older, while others were young and had no education, and jobs would be hard to find. As it was, they weren’t paid very well; they depended mostly on tips.
When word spread that the owner was coming to inspect the hotel to determine what needed to be done to bring it up to date for sale, the staff panicked. This hotel was the only one belonging to Mr. Maestri that had been so neglected over the years. It needed much work, such as replacing carpets, new furniture, and fresh paint.
Though it was kept clean, it still had become shabby. The staff got together to talk, trying to devise a way to persuade the owner to keep the hotel open and let the employees keep their jobs.
Paige and a couple of the other maids cleaned the penthouse suite from top to bottom; it was the best suite in the hotel. Everything was ready for his arrival.
The bar inside the room was fully stocked with his favorite wines and liquor upon his earlier request. They all waited nervously for his arrival.
Having heard all about him, it was obvious they were deathly afraid.
***
The morning of his arrival, Paige checked his suite to ensure things were as he requested and that the suite next to it was where his bodyguard would be staying. Satisfied, she returned to work; she needed to finish the other rooms before the staff meeting with Mr. Maestri.
All the employees got together and signed a petition to stop the sale of the hotel. It had been faxed to him, and he replied, demanding a meeting.
He hadn’t asked or told them about the meeting; he just said they had better be there or they would be fired.
Having done her morning duties, Paige was talking to a coworker when the revolving doors to the hotel swung open. All the happy chatter stopped when a man walked in, and the air in the place seemed to stand still.
He was tall, had dark hair, and was very handsome. He walked with the aura of a man who knew no fear, but one who put fear in anyone in his path.
She heard he was thirty years old and thought he was too young to be one of the wealthiest men in the world. Even under his expensive tailored suit, she could tell he was muscular.
But his face scared her; he looked mean and dangerous, like one of those mob bosses you see in the movies. He was not alone, she noticed; behind him was a big, husky man.
He sported a suit and dark sunglasses. His lips were set in a firm line, and a scar ran down his face; he was even scarier than the other one.
As they walked up to the front desk, the clerk’s hand shook as he handed the keys over, stuttering as he welcomed them to the Maestri Hotel. The two men walked away and got on the elevator without so much as a thank you.
Her eyes met his for a second, just a split second before the doors closed. A cold chill ran up her spine at the way his dark eyes stared into hers.
The staff was summoned to the ballroom an hour after his arrival. While waiting for Mr. Maestri to make his entry, everyone was quietly talking, but it all ceased when his powerful presence entered the room.
Paige thought he was more frightening up close once she gazed at his dominant figure. While he spoke perfect English, you could still hear his heavy Italian accent.
“I received this fax, and all I have to say is that the hotel is closing,” he said. He tore the fax in half and threw it to the floor.
Everyone’s mouth dropped open in shock as they stared at each other. As he turned to leave, Paige shouted out.
“No, that’s unfair; you haven’t even let us discuss it.”
He stopped in his tracks and turned back around.
“Who said that?” he barked.
No one moved or said a word until the other maid pushed Paige, making her stumble forward.
“You.” He pointed to her. “Come closer.”
Putting her hands behind her back, she took several steps forward, moving slowly and feeling as though her legs would give out from underneath her.
“What is your name, girl?”
Casting her eyes down, afraid to look at him, she stared at the floor.
“Look at me when I speak to you,” he snapped harshly.
She snapped her head up and peered into his dark, cold eyes that held little warmth in their depths and whispered, “Paige Mosley, sir.”
“How old are you?” he asked as he looked at her from head to feet.
“Twenty-one,” she answered nervously.
“You look to be nothing more than a child—maybe eighteen.”
“I’m not a child,” she dared to snap at him.
“What are you, then?”
“A maid, sir,” she said, looking down at her feet.
“Then you can clean my room tomorrow morning at seven. Be one minute late, and you will no longer have a job—not that you’ll have one much longer anyway.”
She could feel her lips trembling. Everyone’s eyes were on her when she spoke.
“Will you not at least listen to us? Maybe you might change your mind.”
“I never change my mind once I decide on something,” he said.
He looked at the others.
“I suggest you all get back to work, or you are fired,” he said.
He walked out, followed by his bodyguard.
Her heart was beating like a drum in her chest. As a rule, she never disliked anyone without getting to know them better, and she could never find it in her heart to hate anyone.
This man was arrogant, rude, and downright mean, and for the first time in her life, she thought she could finally hate someone.
“Shit, Paige, I feel sorry for you having to clean that bastard’s room,” Sandy, the girl who pushed her forward, said. “But I must say he is one fine piece of meat. I bet he knows how to satisfy a woman in bed.”
Paige rolled her eyes. Sandy was always willing to sleep with any of the guests, and she had.
“We better get to work. I think he means it when he says we’ll be fired.”
But she had to agree. He was very sexy; if only he weren’t so vile.
She had trouble sleeping that night. The way his eyes stared into hers was unnerving.
Yet she hoped he might listen if she tried talking to him; she had to give it a shot.
The following day, she arrived at his room right on the dot and was confronted by his bodyguard, standing outside his door. She became agitated when he wouldn’t move, not wanting to be a second late.
“Let me in; he’s expecting me.”
“I need to search you for concealed weapons,” he said in a rough tone and with a smirk on his face.
“I don’t have any weapons,” she cried out.
When he put her up against the wall and ran his hands over her body, she felt tears stinging her eyes, and when his hand went between her legs, she pushed him away.
“You’re clear. You can go in,” he said, again smirking.
Pushing the cart in, she wiped the tears from her eyes. She looked away when Gabriel walked into the main room, wearing pants and holding his shirt.
“You may clean the bathroom now.”
Grabbing the cleaning supplies, she started to walk past him, but he grabbed her arm. When he looked at her face, he could tell she was upset by the way her face was red, and she looked like she was about to cry.
“Has something happened to you?”
She wanted to say no, to do her job and get out of there. But instead, she looked at him, her face turning even redder.
“Your man out there just felt me up, said he was searching for weapons. I have never felt so violated in all my life.” She choked back a sob.
“He was just doing his job, which was to protect me. It was nothing personal.”
“Nothing personal. It felt personal to me when he tried to put his hand between my legs and up my dress.”
She tried pulling her arm from his grip, but he held it too tightly.
“I will speak to him. It will not happen again; I give you my word,” he said, letting go of her arm.
After cleaning the bathroom, she cleaned the rest of the suite. He was gone when she started; she was glad, as she didn’t want to be around him.
When she was finally finished in his room, she left for the next one, which was the one where the bodyguard was staying. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she knocked, praying he wasn’t in there.
Finding that he wasn’t, she let out a sigh of relief and went through the room as fast as she could. He was weird, and she knew he had enjoyed groping her.
She was done working her shift when she got word that Gabriel Maestri wanted to see her in his suite. Reluctantly, she headed for the elevator to see what she was being summoned for this time.
The whole ride up to his floor, her thoughts ran rampant, wondering if she had not made his bed to his liking or if the bathroom required more scrubbing, or if the bodyguard had complained about her work, trying to get her fired. Approaching his door, she hesitated, afraid the big goon would search her again.
But he didn’t; instead, he knocked twice and opened the door for her but did not look at her.
Gabriel was sitting on the white leather chair, a drink of some kind in his hand.
“You wanted to see me?”
“Yes. Did he give you any trouble?” he asked, pointing at the door, indicating the man on the other side.
“No,” she answered.
“Sit,” he ordered.
Knowing the kind of man he was, she did as she was told.
“Would you like a drink?”
Remembering what had happened in the ballroom, she looked at him when he spoke to her.
“No, thank you.”
“Do you know why I asked you here?”
“No.”
“I can’t very well sell it looking the way it is. You’ll take notes and make necessary calls to complete the work.”
“Why me?” she asked, her hands in her lap, trying to stop them from shaking.
“Because you were the only one brave enough to talk to me; the others stood looking like scared little rabbits.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t. I am already busy with cleaning.”
“That’s so cute; you think you have a choice in the matter,” he scoffed.
“You will do as I say, Miss Mosley.” He got up and poured himself another drink and poured one for her.
“Here, drink this; it will calm your nerves.”
Putting the glass to her lips, she took a long swig of the whiskey. She made a face as it burned her throat going down.
“What about the cleaning? I can’t very well do it if I’m busy trailing after you all day.”
“Someone else can do it,” he said, pouring them another shot. “Tell me why it’s so important to you that the hotel stays open.”
Taking another long sip of her drink, not used to drinking the hard stuff, gave her the courage to speak to him. “Our clients are regulars who come here every year. They love the place and are treated with the utmost respect. They’ve come to know us as we have gotten to know them. Some of the people who work here have been here for years, and it’s like a second home to them.”
“Miss Mosley, of all my hotels, this is the only one not making as much money, so I see no reason to keep it running.”
“Money isn’t everything,” she said, her eyes watching him.
“It is to me,” he said, staring back at her. “It is still making money.”
She was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol she had consumed. “I don’t usually drink hard liquor; it’s starting to hit me. I should go home now if you don’t mind.”
“I will have someone drive you home.”
She looked at him, her eyes wide with fear. “I’ll find my way home.”
She stood to leave, but her legs felt weak, and she had to sit back down.
“Do not move,” he ordered her and stood up. “I will make you some coffee first, and then I’ll have a cab drive you home.”
He left her and went into the tiny kitchen, plugged in the kettle, and added a teaspoon of instant coffee to a cup. Once the water boiled, he poured it into the cup and took it to her. Her eyes were closed.
“Miss Mosley.”
Her eyes popped open, and she sat up. She reached out for the cup, and he handed it to her. She thanked him.
“I wasn’t sure how you took it, so I left it black.”
“This is fine,” she answered and took a sip.
“Take your time. I will call for a cab and have it wait for you when you’re ready.”
He went to his phone, made the call, and hung up.
Her hand shook a little, but that was because he was watching her, making her nervous. Putting the cup down when she was only half done, she stood up.
“I’ll go now.”
“I will see that someone takes over your shift. Good evening, Miss Mosley.”
He opened the door and waited until she was out before shutting it.
