Sold To Mr. Milano - Daniella Wright Page 0,57

what the problem could be, I finally stormed off into the kitchen myself to see why everyone was slacking.

When I walked in, the kitchen staff and a few of the maids were crowded around a young woman who also worked for me. She was in the corner crying and everyone seemed to be trying to console her.

“What the hell is going on here?” I thundered.

They all straightened and went back to work, offering their apologies. The woman who was upset did her best to pull herself together, but couldn’t stop sobbing.

Finally, one of the cooks came over and whispered to me softly. “Her husband was shot last night. It was gang violence. He got wrapped up in the wrong crowd...trying to make some extra money to put food on their table.”

I sighed, not wanting to concern myself with any of this. But while the rest of the workers went on with their business, the young woman remained inconsolable. I couldn’t very well have her around distracting everyone all day when she was obviously of no use in this state. I called out to her and nodded for her to come with me.

Normally my employees were too afraid of me to show anything outside of a “yes sir” or “no sir” with their heads down while they kept busy. But the poor girl was so distraught that she sniffled and sat across from me at the table, looking completely broken.

“Will you need some time off?” I asked her in a half grumble, seeing that I obviously didn’t have any choice but to grant her just that.

“No, senor!” she cried back in desperation. “I can’t afford to take any time off! Perdón, Discúlpame. I will get back to work. My love has left me behind with our three children to care for. We don’t have any family to help. It all depends on me now.”

Her voice broke with tears, and I could see her trying her best to pull herself together. But it was no use. I felt a pang in my heart that I couldn’t quite place. She had only just lost him last night, and here she was trying to work through her grief while worrying about feeding her children and keeping a roof over their heads.

I was suddenly hit with the strangest picture in my mind. I imagined Alicia sitting with us at that table shooting me disapproving looks. She would want me to show this woman sympathy. Even by my own claimed values, the woman was doing all that she could do. She was working hard to provide for her family under terrible circumstances. I was hit with an appreciation for my privilege in this world that I had never felt before. And I couldn’t stop asking myself - what would Alicia do? What would she expect me to do for this grieving widow and single mother?

“Take as much time as you need off,” I decided out loud. “I will continue to pay your salary, and, in fact, I will double it until you are back on your feet.” I waved to one of the nearby workers, who were now filing in and out of the room like usual. “Take her down into the basement. You can take whatever you need from there. Wine for the funeral perhaps? You will find bread and grapes and other useful things too. Take the things and go home to be with your children. You may tell the funeral home directors to send their bill to me, and I will take care of it.”

Everyone froze for a moment in shock. It was enough to finally make the woman stop crying, but only briefly.

“I don’t know what to say, Senor Milano. Gracias.” The tears started flowing down her cheeks again, only this time with a small sense of relief.

I waved for them to leave me and waited for my breakfast to be served as usual. While I ate, I couldn’t stop thinking about the woman and also everything Felix had said about his love for his mistress. True love was rare for anyone to find, but Alicia had melted my heart in ways I never thought possible. That was the most unexpected thing.

I started thinking about it like a real estate deal or acquiring a shipment of rare, imported goods. If such a rare opportunity fell into my lap in my business, I would never pass it up. I had to think of Alicia in the same way. I knew what I had