THE MAFIA’s PET

LOOSE ENDS

CHAPTER TWO

I leaned against the counter, replaying everything that had happened tonight.

That girl. The blood. Cleyton snatching the bracelet from my hand like his life depended on it.

And then Antonio Dante.

Gosh, I wished Alessia were here tonight. At least I wouldn’t have to deal with all this alone. She had a way of making even the worst situations seem less serious, and she knew exactly how to handle Cleyton and his terrible mood swings.

I missed her—even her annoying habit of talking when nobody asked her to.

“Hey, puke face! Snap out of it!”

I jerked my head up.

Cleyton stood in front of me, looking like he’d rather be doing anything else than talking to me.

“There’s a customer who needs a personal dance from you. Go change into something else.”

I stared at him.

“Sorry, what?”

“You heard me.”

“But I’m a waitress, sir.” I glanced down at my uniform, then back at him. “I didn’t sign up to dance for customers.”

He gave me a look that made me wish I’d kept my mouth shut.

“Look here, lady. You don’t have a choice. Now move along. We don’t have all day.”

“But—”

“Gia!” he shouted, cutting me off. “Help her get dressed.”

“You got it, boss.”

Gia appeared beside him, wearing that irritating little smirk of hers.

I hated that smirk.

She grabbed my arm and pulled me away before I could say another word.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you ready.”

“Can you stop pulling me? I have legs.”

She laughed.

“Oh, she has a mouth, too. This should be fun.”

I yanked my arm out of her grip.

“What’s your problem with me, Gia?”

She stopped walking and turned to face me.

“My problem? Oh, Lucia, please. Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Then stop acting like you hate me.”

“Maybe I just don’t like people who think they’re special.”

I stared at her.

“Special? Me?”

She looked me up and down.

“Don’t play innocent. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

I honestly had no idea what she was talking about, and that seemed to irritate her even more.

Gia had always had it in for me. According to her, there was some special connection between her and Antonio, and it was only a matter of time before she rose through the ranks.

Whatever that meant.

She was also one of Cleyton’s favorites. Her figure brought in customers, and apparently, that was enough to make her untouchable.

Good for her.

I just wanted to do my job and go home.

Gia pushed open a door and led me into a small changing room. A few outfits hung on a rack against the wall, most of them barely covering anything.

I looked at them.

Then I looked at her.

“No!”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not wearing those.”

She picked up a tiny outfit and threw it at me.

“Put this on.”

I caught it against my chest, staring at the ridiculous thing in my hands.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

I looked at the door, half tempted to walk out and tell Cleyton exactly where he could shove his stupid job.

Then I thought about my mother’s hospital bills.

Damn it.

I changed, trying not to overthink what I was doing. When I stepped out, Gia looked me over, and for once, she didn’t immediately have something nasty to say.

Instead, she let out a low whistle.

“Damn. I didn’t know you had a figure like that.”

I folded my arms across my chest.

“Can we just get this over with?”

“You’ve been hiding all that under that hideous waitress uniform?”

She reached out and poked my backside.

I jumped away.

“Hey! Don’t touch me!”

She burst out laughing.

“Relax.”

I glared at her.

“I’m serious, Gia.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Third room on the left.”

She started towards the door, then glanced back at me.

“And Lucia? Just do your job. I don’t want Cleyton blaming me if you cause a scene.”

I stood there for a moment, clutching the outfit like I could somehow pull it back into place by sheer force of will.

I wanted to cry.

Not because of the clothes or Gia.

I was just tired.

Tired of Cleyton treating me like I was nothing. Tired of counting every euro before buying my mother something she needed. Tired of pretending I was fine when I wasn’t.

But standing there feeling sorry for myself wouldn’t pay any bills.

So I wiped my face, picked up my courage—or whatever little bit of it I had left—and walked out.

Third room on the left.

I stopped outside the door and stared at it.

Just dance, Lucia. Collect your money. Go home.

Easy.

I knocked.

“Come in!”

The voice that answered sounded old and rough.

I pushed the door open.

An elderly man sat on the sofa, a glass of liquor in one hand. His shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, and his eyes moved over me in a way that made my skin crawl.

He smiled.

“Oh, my. I’m not disappointed at all.”

I immediately wished I hadn’t come in.

“In all my years, this club has never failed to send me beautiful women.”

He put down his glass and reached for me.

I stepped back.

“Please, sir. I’m only here to dance. No kissing, no touching, nothing else.”

His smile faded.

“Do you know how much I’m paying for this room?”

“That isn’t my problem.”

He stood up slowly and stared at me for a moment, then slapped me so hard my face turned red with the impact.

I stumbled into the table. A vase shattered behind me.

For a second, I couldn’t even move.

He straightened his shirt as if nothing had happened.

“Now look what you’ve done.”

I stared at him. He was blaming me?

“Get out of my way,” I whispered.

He caught my arm before I could reach the door.

“You walk out of here, and I’ll make sure you never work in this city again.”

His fingers dug into my skin.

“Let go of me!”

“Then stop struggling.”

I tried to pull away, but he only dragged me closer.

“Stop struggling, you little—”

“TAKE YOUR HANDS OFF ME!”

I twisted hard, desperate to get away from him.

My heel caught on something.

The next thing I knew, I was stumbling through the doorway and straight into someone standing in the corridor.

My hands landed on a pair of broad shoulders.

“I’m sorry, sir. I was—”

I looked up.

Oh, for God’s sake.

Antonio Dante.

Of course.

Because apparently, the universe had decided that one encounter with this man wasn’t enough for a lifetime.

I tried to step away, but my legs felt strange, and the sting on my cheek was getting worse.

Antonio looked at me.

Then his gaze shifted to the man standing in the doorway behind me.

“What is going on here?”

The old man came out, still reaching for my wrist.

“Get back here, you little—”

Antonio moved so quickly I barely saw it happen.

One second, the man was standing there. The next, Antonio’s fist connected with his face, sending him stumbling to the floor.

“f**k!” the man yelled, clutching his nose. Blood ran between his fingers. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Antonio stood over him, his expression frighteningly calm.

The man looked up at him.

“Who the f**k do you think you are?”

Antonio said nothing.

The old man wiped his nose with the back of his hand, then pointed at me.

“You hit me because of this slut?”

Another punch.

This time, it caught him around the eye.

I flinched so hard I nearly backed into the wall.

Antonio straightened his jacket.

“Take him out.”

Two guards appeared almost immediately. They grabbed the man by his arms and hauled him to his feet.

“Get your hands off me!” he shouted, trying to shake them off. “Do you know who I am?”

Neither guard answered.

“I’ll be back for you, slut!” he yelled as they dragged him away. “You hear me? You’re going to regret this!”

His voice faded down the corridor.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

I stood there, staring after him, my wrist throbbing where he’d grabbed me.

“Are you all right?”

Antonio’s voice pulled me back.

I looked at him.

He was watching me, his face giving absolutely nothing away.

“I’m fine, sir.”

My voice came out so small I barely recognized it.

His eyes dropped to my cheek.

I quickly turned my face away.

“I’m fine,” I repeated.

He didn’t argue. He simply nodded once and walked off, leaving me standing there like an i***t.

I watched him disappear around the corner.

Seriously, why did I keep running into him?

And why had he helped me?

I rubbed my wrist and started back toward the changing room.

I hadn’t even made it halfway when Cleyton came storming toward me.

“What the hell happened here?”

I stopped.

His gaze moved from my face to the broken vase inside the room, then back to me.

“Lucia! Did you do this?”

“I didn’t—”

“Causing trouble already? You’ve barely been here three weeks!”

“Sir, he grabbed me, and I tried to—”

“I don’t want to hear it.” He pointed toward the broken glass. “Clean that mess up and get back to work.”

I stared at him.

“Cleyton, he slapped me.”

For a second, I thought he might actually look at my cheek.

Instead, he rolled his eyes.

“And what did you do to provoke him?”

I opened my mouth.

Nothing came out.

He shook his head in disgust.

“Honestly, Lucia, I don’t know why I bother with you. Clean it up.”

“Yes, sir.”

I bent down to pick up the pieces, my fingers shaking with anger.

Not fear this time.

Pure rage.

I wanted to throw the stupid vase at his head and scream at him until he finally understood that I wasn’t some object he could push around.

But I didn’t.

Because I needed the money.

I gathered the broken pieces and took them to the back room. When I returned, the corridor was empty.

I was about to head to the counter when I heard voices coming from the half-open office door.

It was Cleyton’s voice first.

“I’m telling you, I handled it.”

I stopped in my tracks.

I knew I should keep walking.

But then another voice answered.

A man’s voice.

“Are you sure?”

My stomach sank.

It was Antonio.

I moved closer before I could talk myself out of it.

“She doesn’t know anything,” Cleyton said. “She’s just a waitress.”

Oh my god, are they talking about me?