Chapter 1 - The Angry Face
The Maid’s Toddler Copied the Mafia Boss’s Angry Face—His Reaction Made Everyone Laugh!
The coffee cup was already shaking in my hand when I heard my three-year-old daughter talking to the most feared man I had ever worked for.
I was halfway down the east corridor of Vincent Castalano’s estate, carrying a silver tray I had forgotten I was holding, when Mia’s small voice floated through the open study door.
“You look mad.”
I stopped.
Every member of staff at the Castalano house knew two rules.
Never enter Mr. Castalano’s study without being summoned.
Never bring a child to work.
That morning, I had broken both without meaning to.
My babysitter had called at 5:54 a.m. with a stomach virus. My sister was on a nursing shift and couldn’t answer. Daycare wanted seventy dollars for an emergency drop-in slot I didn’t have, and missing a day of work meant losing money I needed for rent.
So I put Mia in a yellow sundress, packed crayons and crackers into my purse, drove through the iron gates at seven fifteen, and prayed Vincent Castalano would spend the entire day in Manhattan.
He came home at eight forty.
Nobody had warned me.
By nine, Mia had vanished from the laundry room.
Now she was inside his study.
I set the tray down so fast the coffee spoon jumped against the saucer.
Then I looked through the doorway.
Vincent stood behind his massive oak desk wearing a charcoal suit with no tie, one hand resting on an open file.
Renzo Moretti, his chief of staff, stood beside the windows with a tablet.
Two security men occupied the wall near the fireplace.
And Mia stood directly in front of Vincent.
She came barely above the edge of his desk.
He stared down at her with the expression that had made contractors, bankers, politicians, and men with far worse reputations than bankers suddenly become interested in the floor.
Vincent Castalano did not need to shout.
He had perfected disappointment into something more frightening than anger.
His eyebrows lowered.
His mouth became a straight line.
His head tilted half an inch.
Mia studied him.
Then her small face changed.
Her brows pulled down.
Her lips flattened.
She folded her arms across her chest.
And she tilted her chin exactly the way he had.
Perfectly.
My stomach dropped.
Renzo’s eyes widened.
One of the guards looked toward the ceiling as if he did not want to be legally responsible for witnessing whatever came next.
Nobody breathed.
Mia maintained the scowl.
Vincent maintained his.
They stared at each other.
Five seconds.
Maybe six.
Then Vincent’s right eyebrow lifted.
Mia lifted hers.
Something moved at the corner of his mouth.
Mia’s mouth twitched too.
Renzo made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a swallowed laugh.
Vincent looked at him.
Renzo immediately became fascinated by his tablet.
Mia looked at Renzo, then back at Vincent.
“You do that face a lot.”
I finally found my legs.
“Mia.”
Every adult in the room turned.
She smiled at me.
“Hi, Mommy.”
I wanted the carpet to open.
“Mr. Castalano, I am so sorry. My sitter canceled and I had no one else, and she was supposed to stay in the laundry room. I only looked away for—”
Vincent lifted one finger.
I stopped.
He looked at Mia.
Then, with complete seriousness, he crouched until they were eye level.
His suit trousers creased at the knees.
I had never seen him crouch.
I wasn’t sure anyone in that house had.
May you like
He looked at Mia.
She looked at him.
