In Bed With The Wrong Mafia

Maniac Stranger I went back to the locker after I changed my clothes into my waitress uniform. My bréasts and bum are almost showing in this uniform. For God's sake! I am disgusted seeing myself wearing these sinful, skimpy pieces of fabrics but there is no room for my complaint in the place where I currently am. Because if I do that, I will only get myself into serious trouble again. I've already learned my lesson the hardest way possible. And now, all I could do is to get used to living this whole new hideous life for me to survive. I have no other choices but to accept my ill fate and there is no way out! When I was forcefully brought into this nightclub—more like a séx den and a hideout of criminals—that was the beginning of losing my right to myself. I no longer have freedom and do whatever I want to do. This is the strictest and darkest place I've been into and there are many things that we all forbid to do. Even smiling is like a crime with an appropriate punishment. Freedom doesn't exist in my vocabulary anymore because someone already owned me. I took my wristwatch from my bag and checked the time. I love this wristwatch so much but I can't wear it now because my wrist is still bruised and twinged from the two days I was handcuffed in a dark room as a punishment. There were still fifteen minutes before the bar opened to customers, so I took advantage of the free time to look at my notes. I didn't take my notebook out of the locker and leaned forward to have a quick review. I quickly memorized the lessons pointers with all my might. I have a class tomorrow morning. We have a summative test. I need to burn the candle at both ends. I am a working student and this year, I'm going to finish my senior days in secondary. It only mean that I really need money for fees, especially for my upcoming college tuition. I wasn't distracted when some of my fellow waitresses entered the locker room. I put all my attention and concentration on what I'm reading. I have been absent for many days this month and if I fail the exams, I might not be able to march on graduation day. "Hey, Miss. I have a question. Are the rumors true? You're only a damn seventeen years old girl?” My co-waitress grabs my attention. Her name is Blanca if I wasn't mistaken. If there is a superstar in showbusiness, here in the nightclub there is one too. And it is Blanca. I blinked for a couple of times, hesitant to answer her question. As far as I know, it is strictly forbidden here to dig into everyone's personal life. Our identities should be hidden from anyone else. Based on the cardinal rules, it is one of the punishable acts. And the possible punishment could be death. "What? Answer me! I suppose you're not goddamn deaf.” She sarcastically raised an eyebrow at me. Blanca is obviously bossy. In my one month imprisonment in this nightclub, I can say that Blanca is the only one who has the ability to act fearless. I am speculating that she might be one of the Mafia Boss' mistresses. Yes. A Mafia boss' mistress like me. I clear my throat and slowly shake my head. "I'm sorry but I'm not allowed to answer any questions from anybody." Blanca looks pissed at what I said. I was being so distant from anyone in here since I dragged into this hell. I don't make friends with my co-waitresses. I don't make conversation with anyone unless it's something concerning about our work. My acts were calculated. The words I speak are limited because I am aware that the Mafia boss has an eye for me around the corner. "What are you talking about you're not allowed?" Blanca grabbed my arm causing me to accidentally drop my notebook from the locker. It fell to the floor. The papers stuck there with my school quizzes spread out. "I'm asking a good question here and you won't answer? Kid, don't pissed me off even more." I flinched in pain when Blanca tightened her grip on my arm. Because her fake nails are digging into my skin, which will absolutely pass as a defense weapon because they are so sharp. “Again, are you only seventeen? Has Damien been dating you yet? Is that why he keeps rejecting me because you are now his favorite mistress? Speak up, b***h because I'm getting so annoyed with you!" It is confirmed that she is also one of Damien's girls. I mean his mistress. And she's mad because Damien refused to sleep with her? Since Blanca has been here for so long, is she not used to having many women competing for the time and attention of the Mafia Boss? "No, Blanca." I said grimacing. I begged Blanca to let go of my arm but she doesn't want to listen. I glanced one by one at the three girls who came along to the locker room with Blanca but they were only wearing poker faces. "Clarify your answer. Which are you referring to? You're not seventeen years old or you're not Damien's mistress? Don't make me a fortune teller here, damn you!” Every first Friday of the month, new girls are brought into this den. Most are brought here by force and only a few want it. And in my case, I was brought here forcefully last month. My own Uncle brought me to this club thinking that I could get a part-time job here. But the fate that awaits me here is far from what I expected. Unimaginable. This club— it wasn't a typical club for partying, drinks and disco. This is just the front of an underground market where smuggling, illegal drug dealing, freud and human trafficking are rampant. And the night I was among the women to be sold in the underground market, I was sold to a politician for a million dollar and gifted me to a Mafia Boss— to Damien Di Salvo. I was Damien's birthday gift. "Please let go of my arm." I ask her again. No. I am already pleading. I'm not only worried about myself, I'm more worried about Blanca. If Damien would find this out, I'm sure he won't be gentle towards Blanca. She'll be sorry. It's a shame that her beautiful face and complexion would be only marked by bruises or wounds. Regulation in the territory of Damien Di Salvo to keep this nightclub in peace and order. There is no trouble between employees. No doubt he disposes of anyone who would cause trouble in the nightclub. Blanca, as one of the women who worked for Damien, should have known the Mafia Boss' rules better than I do, but here she is, starting the tension. And she is dragging me into this trouble. I don't want trouble. I don't want to feel sorry for myself again. "Please, Blanca, don't pick up a fight. Don't get me into trouble. I don't want to be punished, Blanca. I just want to work quietly." I'm begging her. "If you don't want trouble, then admit it. Is Damien fúcking you? Has he been with you these past nights huh? Are you the one who made him so crazy that he doesn't want me anymore?" Anger flared up in Blanca's eyes. She is jealous but what she says makes no sense. Yes, the Mafia boss owns me now that I'm just like a doll but Damien knows that I'm only a minor. It's more than a month before I turn eighteen. And Damien clearly told me he wouldn't touch me until I am of legal age. It's ironic that he can hurt me physically and verbally yet he still doesn't want to take possession of my body. "No, Blanca. You won't get an answer from me. Just please leave me alone.” My voice was full of worry. "You still don't want to talk, do you? Are you really going to be stubborn, you hypocrite?” Blanca grabbed my ponytail and shoved my face into the metal locker. She smashes my face against the solid material. It was so strong that it felt like my skull would break. "You don't want to talk because you love to have Damien's attention only on you. You're acting so innocent! A supposedly minor and modest but you're a real slút inside! How I wished you never got here, you greedy bítch!” I. . .I don't want to be here. I'd love to get out of this hellish place. I don't like it here. This place is cursed and I would rather be a housemaid than a prisoner in this hell ruled by the heartless Damien Di Salvo. "You bloody bítch! I will hurt you more if you don't speak anyway—” Blanca was stunned when the locker room door suddenly opened. Blanca walked away from me in a panic and I weakly leaned against the locker. I didn't bother to look at the person who came. I did not lift my face. My facial bones hurt from what Blanca did. As if she was doing a dough kneading when she did that to my face. I think Blanca's previous career was baking. "S—Sir, what do you need?" It was Blanca's voice. Her tone changes. I slowly squat down to pick up my notebook and quizzes papers. It's a shame someone might see it. Most of my scores on the quizzes were my age—also a minor. Eleven out of twenty. Fourteen out of thirty. Things like that but I don't think about it too much. The important thing is that I fight in life fairly. “Needed some napkin.” My grip on the scattered papers weakened when I heard that deep and smoky voice of a man. Chill strangely claws at my nerves just by hearing that voice. I don't know but I feel both terrified and excited by the depth of his voice. "Napkin? Ah, which table are you at, Sir? I'll hand you an extra napkin on your table." "I will be in the fantasy room. The blood room.” I felt like I was choking on my own saliva in the room mentioned by the person who got lost here in our locker room. Fantasy room— there are only eighteen fantasy rooms in this nightclub. That's for nightclub patrons who want private entertainment. The rate of fantasy rooms is per hour. It'd cost five thousand dollars per hour. It's just a room and when CCA is included, the payment there will be doubled. And the room occupied by the man—the blood room— has the highest rate among all fantasy rooms. And the CCAs who can be assigned in the blood room can only be counted on the fingers. They're also the highest paid CCA of this nightclub. I saw that Blanca and her three companions had gone out. I breathed a sigh of relief and was about to raise my face when the light in the locker room suddenly went out. I stood up hurriedly. I didn't panic and just walked forward silently to flip the switch near the door. Maybe Blanca was the one who turned off the light. I'm aiming for a switch but my hand has touched something hard. A hard chest of a man! "If you move your hand further down, you'll find a thing harder than what you're touching right now, baby doll." That deep, sultry, smoky voice! I gasped aloud. I thought the man looking for a napkin had already left. Why is he still here? "S—sorry..." I mumbled, my palm's trembling. I feel like it's a sin that I touched a customer. "Don't be sorry, young lady. I actually like your hand on mine. Especially if you hold that in—” “Calyxta! Where the f**k are you, woman?” I caught my breath when I heard that familiar and stern voice. Whenever I hear that voice, my mind can barely function because of so much nervousness and fear. Because that is Damien Di Salvo and everyone feared him. No one wants to mess up with him because he knows no mercy at all. He's ruthless and a typical greedy God of his own Hades. And hey. . .he owns me and he'll make me the carrier of his future heir. But what I'm more afraid of now is that Damien might catch me here in the locker room with this flirty customer! What the hell am I supposed to do?