LIMERENCE

Missy’s POV The noise and rush in the restaurant were tougher than usual when I stepped in earlier. I could already feel the weariness settling in from the day’s job, and our manager, Ms. Augusta, was screaming at us to be perfect even when we were literally doing nothing wrong. Still in the storeroom with my colleagues, while Ms. Augusta rattled on, my mind drifted away from her scolding. I could hardly pay attention. Every day it was the same routine, the same harsh words, the same expectations. Nothing new. Nothing special. “The city’s most important event is fast approaching, the Carnival of Venice,” she snapped, hands on her hips. “People are busy, and they’ll be hungrier than usual. I want that door ringing every second, and I want perfection. No tardiness. Excellent customer service and proper serving etiquette. Do you understand?” “Yes, Ma.” We all chorused in unison. As the others filed out to get into position, I lingered for a second, adjusting the apron that scratched against my skin. The smell of fresh dough and tomato sauce wafted from the kitchen, and for a moment, I let it distract me. This place wasn’t much.. loud, messy, and underpaid but it paid the bills. Barely. Fifteen to twenty. Five years of scraping by, keeping my head down, never asking too many questions about where I came from or who I was before that night. The night everything vanished. One day I was in a marble house with velvet curtains and gold-framed family portraits. The next, a foster home with mildew walls and strangers who didn’t care if I ate or not. I never remembered my father’s face which was weird. Just the smell of cigars and leather, the weight of gold rings tapping on a glass table, and the way people flinched when his name was spoken. Valentine. I’m not sure how but something tampered with my brain after that night. I could not remember anything or anyone, just that it was all gone. The name was buried now. So was the girl who wore it. “Missy! Are you deaf?” Augusta barked from outside the storage room. I blinked. “Coming!” As soon as I stepped out of the storage room, the chaos of the restaurant hit me full force. The tables were already filling up, the clinking of cutlery and buzz of morning chatter mixing with the sharp smell of espresso and tomato sauce. Without wasting a second, I rushed toward the nearest table to take an order. “Um... good morning,” I mumbled, fumbling with my notepad. “What would you like to have today?” My fingers trembled as I flipped to a blank page, the pen slipping in my grip. I didn’t even look up at first until the silence from the man in front of me made it impossible to ignore. He didn’t say a word. Slowly, I looked up. He was dressed in an all-black tuxedo, crisp and tailored like it was sewn onto him. His skin was pale, sharp jawline clenched, and his slicked-back dark hair made him look even more severe. But it was his eyes — cold, calculating, piercing straight through me that made my throat dry. What was a man like that doing in a restaurant like this? His presence alone didn’t fit the room. He wasn’t here for coffee or pasta. He was here for something... else. Sir?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper. He didn’t look at me. Instead, his eyes shifted just slightly behind my shoulder. Confused, I turned to follow his gaze. My breath caught in my throat. Four men. All in black. Guns drawn. Aimed straight at me. Everything stopped. The background noise vanished. The clatter of forks, the buzz of the espresso machine gone. My heart pounded in my ears like a war drum. There were more of them. Scattered around the restaurant. Each one posted at exits, corners, even pretending to be diners. And all of them had one thing in common: their eyes were on me. My knees nearly buckled. The guests around us froze, unsure whether to scream or stay silent. The air turned heavy with fear. I could feel it crawling over my skin like ice. Ms. Augusta stood by the service counter, her mouth slightly open, confusion clouding her features. She didn’t move, didn’t speak. It was rare to see her speechless, but there she was stunned, fuming, and completely out of her depth. This wasn’t part of her perfect schedule. This wasn’t part of anyone’s. But somewhere deep inside me… something stirred. Not just fear. Something else. Recognition? No. That would be impossible. Right? The man finally rose from his seat, moving slowly and confidently like someone who knew the world bent at his will. A smirk curled on his red lips as his eyes locked onto mine. “I’m Anthonio,” he said, voice low and smooth, laced with danger. “And you’re coming with me.” My heart plummeted. I took a step back, shaking my head. “N-No. I don’t know you.” He tilted his head slightly, amused. “Neither do I. But word is... you’re a big deal. And my boss wants you badly. So yes, you are.” Panic gripped my chest like a vice. “Please,” I begged, voice trembling. “I haven’t done anything.” I’d heard enough stories. Mafia kidnappings. Girls taken, never seen again. Sold. Broken. Ruined. I wasn’t about to be another name added to that list. My eyes darted around the room, scanning for any way out. The back kitchen door. The fire exit. Anything. My legs were fast. If I could just get a head start, I knew the alleys around here like the back of my hand. I could slip away.. maybe. I looked at Ms. Augusta, hoping for some kind of help. To my shock, she nodded. “Look,” she said, stepping forward with fake annoyance, “I don’t know what this is about, but trust me Missy here is barely useful. She’s not worth the trouble.” A flicker of hope sparked in my chest. Anthonio didn’t even flinch. His smile vanished as he turned to her, voice suddenly sharp. “It’s not your place or hers to decide who’s worthy of taking.” He looked back at me, eyes cold and unblinking. “Any funny business,” he said quietly, “and I’ll put five people in body bags including your precious manager.” The room fell dead silent. I didn’t think. I ran. Chairs scraped. Dishes crashed. People screamed. Two of his men lunged, but I was already gone weaving through tables, dodging hands, sprinting toward the back. A gunshot exploded behind me. The sound shattered everything. My legs gave out. A scream tore from my throat “Dad!” before everything went black. *** Darkness. Not the peaceful kind; the choking kind. The kind that pressed against my eyelids and made it hard to breathe. My head throbbed, a slow, pulsing ache that matched the pounding of my heart. Cold stone pressed against my back. My wrists… tied. My mouth… dry. I stirred and groaned silently. A dim yellow bulb flickered overhead, revealing cracked walls and a single wooden chair in the middle of the room the one I was tied to. In the far corner, two men sat at a dusty table, playing cards like they were in a quiet bar and not guarding a kidnapped girl. Smoke drifted from a half-lit cigar in an ashtray, coiling lazily through the stale air. One of them was Anthonio black suit jacket tossed to the side, sleeves rolled up, red lips still curved in that same smug smirk from the restaurant. The other man was older, heavier, with a scar slicing through his eyebrow. He dealt the cards with casual ease, barely glancing in my direction. “She’s awake,” Anthonio said without looking up, flipping a card onto the table. “Took her long enough,” the other grunted, eyes still on the game. My throat burned. I tried to speak, but it came out as a hoarse whisper. “Where… am I?” Anthonio finally looked at me, leaned back in his chair with an amused glint in his eyes. “You’re in the safest place you could be right now, sweetheart.” He tossed a card down. “And the most dangerous.”