MAFIA QUEEN

CHAPTER 2-

Weeks slowly turned into months, and months eventually became years. By the time Gwen turned twenty-one, she felt like she had lived a whole lifetime already. She wasn’t a child anymore. She wasn’t even sure she felt like a young adult. She felt… tired. The kind of tired that sank into your bones and stayed there.

Every morning, she had the same routine: wake up in the mansion, get dressed, drive to the bar, and work from day to night. It was the only life she knew. Kian—the man who adopted her—always said she still needed to “pay off her father’s debts.” She had heard those words so many times that sometimes she even repeated them to herself, even though the numbers never made sense. The debt always seemed to grow or stay the same. Never smaller. Never ending.

She didn’t complain, though. She didn’t want to cause trouble. And she had learned long ago that asking too many questions only made Kian annoyed.

That morning, like every other, she walked across the bar floor with a tray in hand. The place was already packed. Laughter, loud music, glasses clinking—she was used to it. But her feet hurt, her eyes were heavy, and her mind kept drifting away.

Still, she forced a smile as she approached a table.

Gwen: “May I have your order?”

The couple sitting there looked friendly enough. The woman held her partner’s hand and smiled warmly.

Woman: “Wine and steak, please.”

Gwen nodded quickly, mentally repeating the order as she headed straight to the kitchen. The back heat hit her instantly—steam, sizzling pans, and the smell of grilled meat filling the air.

Her friend Lena, who worked as the head chef, looked up from the counter.

Lena: “What’s the order now?”

Gwen: “Wine and steak.”

Lena jotted it down and gave Gwen a look. Gwen already knew that look. Lena could read her like a book.

Lena: “You look exhausted. Again. Girl, it’s just one shift. After this, we’re done for the night.”

Gwen: “I know. I can’t wait to go home and sleep.”

Lena laughed dryly.

Lena: “You say that every day.”

Gwen: “Because I feel like this every day.”

Lena paused, then leaned closer, lowering her voice.

Lena: “At least you live in a mansion. That place is huge.”

Gwen tried to smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Gwen: “I’d rather live on the streets and be happy. But… I’m grateful, though. I know I should be.”

Lena sighed. She could hear how forced Gwen’s voice was. She wiped her hands, walked over, and gently held Gwen’s shoulders.

Lena: “Look, let me talk to Leo. He can take the rest of your tables. You seriously need rest. You came in early again today. Go home before you pass out.”

Gwen’s eyes widened.

Gwen: “Really?”

Lena: “Yeah. Go before I change my mind.”

Without thinking, Gwen hugged her tightly.

Gwen: “You’re the best.”

Lena: “I know,” she said with a grin. “Now go.”

Gwen changed out of her work uniform, grabbed her purse, and walked out to the back parking lot. For the first time that day, she felt a small spark of relief. A little freedom, even if it was just a few hours early.

Her car wasn’t anything fancy compared to the mansion she lived in, but she liked it. It was hers. The one thing she felt in control of.

She got in, shut the door, and let out a long breath.

She needed air. Space. Silence.

But instead of silence, she turned on her music. The opening notes of “I Wanna Be Yours” filled the car, soft and familiar. Her shoulders instantly relaxed.

She pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road, letting the city lights blur past her windows.

When the chorus came on, she couldn’t help singing along, her voice low but steady.

Gwen singing softly:

“Secrets I have held in my heart

Are harder to hide than I thought…

Maybe I just wanna be yours,

I wanna be yours,

I wanna be yours…”

She laughed breathlessly at herself, hitting the steering wheel lightly with her palm in rhythm.

For a moment—just a moment—the world didn’t feel heavy. It felt normal. Like she was just any twenty-one-year-old girl driving home after work, singing her favorite song.

But then the music quieted in the background, and her mind drifted back to reality.

Gwen (to herself): “Oh… to find love.”

The words came out without her thinking. Maybe she was talking to herself, maybe to the empty car, or maybe to no one at all.

She didn’t know what love felt like. She had seen it in movies, seen couples in the bar smiling at each other, whispering, holding hands. She had felt something warm in her chest when she watched them… something like longing.

But her own life had no space for love. She woke up in a mansion that didn’t feel like home. She worked all day in a bar where everyone else seemed to have more freedom than she did. And she lived under the shadow of a debt she couldn’t see or understand.

Still, the idea of love gave her hope. The idea that someone might look at her one day and see her—not as a worker, not as someone paying off something, not as a burden—but as a person.

She imagined for a second what it would be like to meet someone who treated her gently. Someone who cared about her dreams. Someone who would listen when she spoke. Someone who would choose her.

She smiled at the thought, even though it hurt a little.

The sky was turning a darker shade of blue as she drove. Streetlights flickered. People walked on sidewalks, heading home or going out for the night.

Gwen thought about her future. About whether Kian would ever say “You’re done.” About whether she would ever get to choose her own life.

She didn’t have the answers.

But tonight, at least for a short drive, she felt lighter.

She let the music rise again and kept singing.

Not because she wasn’t tired.

But because, in that little moment, her dreams felt close enough to touch.

Gwen parked the car in its usual spot near the front steps. The mansion looked calm from the outside, all bright lights and quiet halls, the kind of place people would call luxurious. Sometimes she wished she could see it the way others did, but to her it was just… a place she lived. Not home.

She stepped out of the car, adjusted her bag, and walked up the stairs. Her clothes, her clean hair, the expensive coat Kian insisted she wore in public—everything made her look like a rich man’s daughter. If anyone saw her now, they would never imagine she spent her days running around a bar carrying heavy trays, dealing with loud customers, and barely getting time to breathe.

Two workers stood outside the front door. As soon as they saw her, they straightened up.

“Welcome, Miss,” they said together, bowing respectfully.

Gwen gave them a small smile. It wasn’t forced; she liked the workers. They treated her kindly.

Gwen: “Thank you.”

She entered the mansion, the warm air hitting her immediately. The place smelled of polished wood and expensive candles. She was already halfway up the stairs, heading toward her room, when she heard it:

“Come.”

Kian’s voice. Cold. Sharp. It came from the living room.

She stopped walking and let out a quiet sigh through her nose before turning around and going toward him. Kian sat on the large couch, reading something on his tablet. He didn’t look up when she entered.

Gwen: “Hey, Dad.”

He didn’t reply. He didn’t even nod. He just kept scrolling like she wasn’t there. Gwen shifted awkwardly, waiting.

Finally, he spoke.

Kian: “I have three important guests coming tomorrow. So your friend doesn’t need to make excuses for you to come early. Tomorrow only. Understood?”

His tone wasn’t angry, but it was flat. Like she was an employee, not his daughter.

Gwen swallowed.

Gwen: “Yes… Father.”

Kian: “Good. Good night.”

He stood up immediately, already done with the conversation, and walked past her without another word. His footsteps faded up the stairs.

Gwen stayed still for a moment, staring at the floor. She didn’t know why she always expected something different—maybe a thank you, or a small smile, or anything that felt normal. But she shook the thought off quickly. She didn’t want to stay there longer.

She headed up to her room, walking faster now. Her room was the only space in the house that felt even a little like hers. The lights were dim, the bed was soft, and her things were placed exactly how she liked them.

She dropped her purse on the floor, kicked off her shoes, and didn’t even think about taking a shower. She was too tired. Her muscles ached, her head felt heavy, and all she wanted was sleep.

She pulled the blanket over herself and closed her eyes. Tomorrow would be another long day, and she needed the strength.

Within minutes, she was asleep