The Mafia's Tesoro

CHAPTER 3

[Viola Noelle]

(One week later)

Streaks of sunshine sliced through the open window as I tied my brown hair into a neat ponytail.

I put on my red pleated skirt, styled with a white button-down shirt and my black pencil heels.

I took a quick look at myself in the mirror, before grabbing my bag and heading out.

A week ago, my life was upside down. Slowly, but surely, I am putting the pieces of my life back together. I recently got a job at the 'Golden Bar', which is located right down the street. At the age of 20, I never expected my life to be figured out, and maybe it will never be figured out.

Grabbing my keys, I locked the door behind me and I grabbed myself a cab.

After a few minutes, I stood outside the bar. The exterior is extraordinary, with the sign 'Golden Bar' in gold and white LED letters hanging above the door. The building itself is painted a glossy black, with most of the building being glass.

After a few minutes, I entered the bar, greeting a few friends on my way to the front. The strong cologne worn by the rich men instantly hit my nose as I made my way behind the counter.

The bar is a modern design with golden countertops, black stools, a large pool table seated to my right, and a dartboard on my left. Behind me are the most expensive drinks. Every single drink you can name is settled on the glass shelves.

"Hey, Viola. You're pretty early today,” Tessa commented. She's the owner of the bar, and she never fails to praise me.

“Hey. Yeah, I guess you could say that my job is everything now,” I mused while wiping the countertops.

I looked over at her, noticing that her blonde hair is styled in a tight bun, her lips are red like cherries, which matches her rosy cheeks, and she totally rocks the black shirt and leather jeans. If I'm being honest, she's gorgeous. Sometimes, I feel that she's prettier than me.

Being torn away from my thoughts, she snaps her fingers in front of my face. “Hello?”

“Ugh, yes?”

"That table needs your attention. There are two men over there, hopefully, you can get yourself a big tip,” she said, pointing at the nearest table.

I nodded and made my way to the table. It's true, the tips are large since this bar is mostly visited by rich men in suits. Businessmen, lawyers, politicians, you name it, they're all here.

Passing the pool table, I make my way to the table, noticing that there are two men, laughing about, and then it goes quiet when I approach them.

“What would you like?” I asked, digging for my pen, which was hidden in my breast pocket.

“You, baby,” one man teases, as the other stares at my breast.

Yeah, when you're working in a bar, it's common for those men to drool over you while making nasty comments.

Smiling and ignoring that comment, I took down their drinks and walked back to the counter.

Wiping the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand, I noticed that it was half six, and I was already exhausted.

“Look at this!” my friend, Stephanie, called as she held out a hundred-dollar bill. “My luck is just getting better!”

I smiled, a little jealousy creeping up my skin. She always gets the most attention from the guys, mainly because she entertains them and sure as hell dresses the part.

The few buttons at the top of her shirt are opened; her shirt's knotted at the hem, showing a lot of skin, and she wears a really short skirt, displaying her long, slim legs.

"Jesus, when are you going to stop dressing like a grandmother and actually dress that pretty body of yours?" she asks, and I just shrug, embarrassment washing over me.

“I'm fine the way I am,” I argued.

“No, your outfit is literally crying out for help,” she says while applying red lipstick.

“By the way, I'm going on a private jet with the hottest man at that table there,” she points at a rich-looking guy and I smile.

Yeah, some people are really out here living life, huh?

I was just about to say something, when the doors flew open, revealing four men dressed in black suits.

I gulp. Damn, they're not even wearing smiles on their faces. They walked in like they owned the damn bar. The one in the front glances in my direction before walking to the largest table.

There's no way that I'm serving them.

Stephanie pouts her lips, pleading with me to let her serve them, and I shrug. “Go ahead, I'm not interested.”

She practically jumps up and down before modeling to their table.

Turning my gaze back to the front, I grabbed a stool and pulled out my phone, texting my boyfriend.

About that... Well, you see, Steve and I made up a few days ago. Yep, we're dating again.

I read the message that he had sent.

Hey babe. I made the bed warm for you

Smiling to myself, I typed out a reply.

Well, there's no need to make it warm, I'm already sweating.

Getting lost in my typing, I hear crying over my shoulder. Turning around, I saw Stephanie walking toward me with a scowl.

“What happened? Didn't they order?” I asked.

She shakes her head.

"Oh, it's okay. Maybe next time,” I tried to assure her, but she bit down on her bottom lip.

I turned my head back around and continued to type on my phone.

“They don't want me.”

What? My head twists in her direction. Did I hear that right?

“Why?” I asked, confused.

Come on, everyone wants Stephanie.

“Because they want you to serve them,” she says, making my mouth drop to the floor.

“What?!” I whisper-yelled, confused as hell. I shot out of my seat.

Holy s**t.

“No, no. They're probably mistaken. I don't want to serve them,” I cried out in disbelief.

“Well, you have got to go out there. They're waiting.”

I shook my head. “No, take someone else.”

Stephanie looked at me in disbelief. I turned on my heels, ready to disappear, but then a high, dominant voice pierced through the air, stopping me in my footsteps.

“Miss, come here now.”