The Mafia King and His Angel: Thorns and Roses

Episode5 Meeting again in crisis！

The nightclub's lights flickered, the music blared deafeningly, and the air was thick with the smell of cigarettes, alcohol, and cocaine.

Emilia, dressed in her nightclub uniform, was nervously busy behind the bar. She had quit her convenience store job not long ago to work here, hoping to quickly earn enough money to pay off her brother's remaining medical bills.

With her head down, Emilia carried an expensive bottle of whiskey and some glasses through the crowded room, trying hard to ignore the leering gazes from various patrons.

At one table sat several drunk men, the leader a bald middle-aged man reeking of expensive cologne and alcohol. Emilia quickly poured him a drink, trying to avoid any physical contact as she handed it over.

"Hey, beautiful," the bald man slurred, his bloodshot eyes roaming over Emilia's slender figure. "Why don't you take a break and have a drink with me?"

Emilia forced a polite smile. "Sorry, sir, I'm working right now."

The bald man suddenly grabbed her wrist, his fingers digging into her skin. "I don't care what you're doing. I said, have a drink with me."

She winced in pain, trying to discreetly pull her hand away but failing. "Please let go of me. I'm just here to work." Despite her inner turmoil, she tried to keep her voice steady.

The bald man only laughed more lecherously. "Work? Drinking with customers is part of your job too. Come on, don't be shy."

Emilia struggled harder, but he wouldn't release her. "Please, sir, let me go. I really need to get back to work."

His laugh grew louder, and his hand slipped to her waist with a clear, vile intention. "Spend the night with me, and you'll make more than you would here in a month, sweetheart. Relax."

Emilia's heart raced. She struggled desperately, drawing the attention of those around them. "Help me!" she pleaded with the other patrons, but they quickly averted their gazes.

The bald man was Frank Wilson, a notorious wealthy man known for his generosity with money and lecherous behavior. His wealth and influence made others reluctant to confront him.

"Useless. Just submit to me," Frank sneered, squeezing her waist. His breath reeked of alcohol, making her feel sick.

Feeling utterly helpless, Emilia continued to struggle, but Frank's grip remained firm. "Crash!" In her frantic movements, Emilia knocked over a glass, spilling its contents and staining Frank's pants.

"b***h!" Frank shoved Emilia to the floor. "Do you know how expensive these pants are? You couldn't afford them even if you worked your whole life. How are you going to compensate me?"

He didn't care about the pants; he was just looking for an excuse. Emilia lay on the ground, feeling both wronged and furious, unable to speak.

A woman nearby couldn't stand it any longer. "Hey, sir, you started this. You shouldn't be harassing this poor waitress!"

"Shut up!" Frank, visibly drunk, retorted. "This is none of your business. Do you want to pay for my expensive pants? If not, you better mind your own business!"

The woman sighed, helpless against such a bully. "Poor waitress, may God bless you," she muttered a silent prayer for Emilia before leaving the nightclub.

"Have you thought about how you're going to compensate me?" Frank continued to shout at Emilia. Struggling to get up, she said, "I don't have any money and won't compensate for your pants. If you keep harassing me, I'll call the police."

"Call the police?" Frank sneered. "Good. Let them assess how much my pants cost and see if your medical bills will cover it."

Emilia remained silent. The issue of money was a heavy burden on her heart. Frank, seeing her hesitation, became even more arrogant. "Or you can get down on your knees and blow me. Maybe if you make me happy, I'll forget this whole thing."

Emilia finally couldn't bear it anymore. She glared at Frank and angrily cursed,"Dream on! You disgusting scumbag, you'd better kill me!"

Frank, furious, shoved her onto a nearby couch. "You think I won't? You insulted me. You're going to pay for that, whether you want to or not!"

"Oh, Frank, you dirty old man, there are so many people watching. Are you really going to do this here?" one of Frank's equally drunk friends mocked.

"Hmph, there's nothing I can't get!" Frank pressed Emilia onto the couch, trying to forcibly strip her.

"Hey, what are you doing!" At this time another waitress came over.

"Oh, another pretty one. Do you want to join our party?" Frank's friends jeered, leering at the new arrival.

"Let her go! You can't do this. We have security!" the waitress shouted.

"Really?" Two men stood up, grabbing the waitress with lecherous smiles. "Let's have some fun before security arrives."

The two men reeked of alcohol, and the waitress screamed for help. "Security, security!"

"What's going on here?" The nightclub manager happened to walk by.

"Manager, these drunks are harassing us!" the waitress cried out for help.

"So that's it, stop it!" the manager shouted.

Several people stopped what they were doing and looked at the manager in unison.

Emilia took the opportunity to break free and stood up from the sofa. "What? Are you going to meddle in other people's business too?" Frank's voice sounded coldly.

"The manager saw Frank's ugly face in the dim light.

"Mr. Frank?"

"I'm not meddling in other people's business, I... just didn't know you were here, Mr. Frank."

"Don't forget, we're VIPs here. Your commission mostly comes from our spending, right?"

The manager smiled awkwardly. "Sorry, Mr. Frank. It's my mistake."

He turned and scolded Emilia and the other waitress. "Mr. Frank and these gentlemen are our valued guests.

What's wrong with you two? Why didn't you serve them properly?"

Emilia, feeling wronged, said, "He started harassing me first."

"Shut up!" The manager raised his voice. "You have to be aware of what you are doing here. What's the big deal about drinking with guests? Especially our distinguished VIP guests!"

"Right, the manager's got it right!" Frank's drunken friends cheered.

Emilia, seeing the manager's hypocrisy, couldn't help but retort, "I'm just here to work. Even waitresses have principles and limits."

"Emilia! I'm so disappointed in you. I hired you out of pity. This is the highest-paying nightclub in the city. Not everyone can work here. If you're doing this job, don't pretend to be high and mighty!"

Every word from the manager was like a knife, cutting deep into Emilia's heart, making her unable to respond.

After a moment, Emilia wiped the tears from her eyes.

"I'm quitting this job."

But before she finished her words, a familiar and cold voice suddenly sounded behind her.

"What happened?"