THREE

   

    OLIVER

   

     I sat at the kitchen Island, taking shots of scotch and thinking about how crazy my life was turning out to be over the past few weeks. I just got back from Italy, and I was very confused. To be honest, I don't know what I wanted anymore. I wanted to handle the business and stay in the mafia, but I couldn't be looking for a wife when Sara was barely gone. My whole head was reeling, and I felt like smashing things, but even that did not help me. Once I was back at my mansion, I went straight into my room and broke everything I got hold of. Still, it didn't alleviate the heaviness in my heart. 

     I downed another shot and felt the cold sting of the liquid through my throat. I saw Sara standing by the stove, grinning at me. She was so beautiful, so peaceful, the peace in my chaos, but I could never see her again. I can never feel her touch again, all I can do is imagine, and I don't think I can survive that. I hauled the shot across the kitchen, it hit the wall and shattered into pieces.

      "Oliver," Dante called, strolling into the kitchen.

  I turned to look at him, he had a worried look. Dante might be my cousin, but he was the only brother I knew. We grew up together, his father was my father's capo, but he died in a rival clash, and my father took him in when we were teenagers. We trained together and did everything together, and we were so close and loved each other so well. Sometimes, he was my voice of reasoning even though I was older. 

      "Get a grip on yourself, man," he said and placed a hand on my shoulder.

  I hung my head, staring at the island counter. "I can't..."

      Dante pulled out a stool and sat beside me. "You have to compose yourself. You have a lot of responsibilities, and there should be no room for operations to fail. Things are getting tighter now, and we need you to be sane. Sara was a good one, and I know how you hurt, but if you continue like this, we might get into trouble."

      I folded my hands into fists. "I swear, I will make sure those bastards pay for everything. I will make them wish they never came to this world." My voice was cold as steel.

      "I support you, but you must be level-headed enough to do that. How was Italy?"

I clicked my tongue. "He wants us to move to California and lay low until things die down with the FBI."

      "I understand his concern."

       "I would have too if he didn't f*cking ask me to get another wife."

        "What?!" The surprise was evident in Dante's voice. "That's absurd."

  I reached for the bottle of scotch, but Dante snatched it away. "You are getting drunk already. What did you say?"

         "Hell no! There is no way I am getting married again. Sara was the only woman for me."

         "You said that to him?" Dante asked. I nodded. "Why? You know what's at stake, right?"

        "Of course, I f*cking know what's at stake, Dante!" I was getting frustrated now and ran my fingers through my hair.  "But Sara is just a few days in the ground. At this point, I don't care what he does, he said he would hand everything over to you, but I don't care."

     Dante was silent for a while. He took a long gulp from the scotch bottle. "Oliver, to be honest with you, I don't think I am ready for that position. You are the leader here, it was meant for you, and you are great at it. I thought I needed it when we were teenagers, but as I grew older, I realized that no one else could handle it better than you. Believe me, I don't think I will be half as competent and devoted as you are."

      I stared at Dante. It was true. When Dante had come to live with us as a teenage boy, he competed with me, it was one propelled by my father, though. Dante and I were in this silent rivalry, but I was far better than him because I had had years of training. But as we grew older, I noticed he supported me and gave me good advice. 

       "What do you want me to do?" I asked slowly.

      "Oliver, think about it. You have worked your ass out to get us where we are today. You put our New York family and business on top, and I know you will do the same in California. You have worked hard for this family and this business, years of hard work; even Sara won't want you to throw them away."

       "I can't just insult her memory."

       "You won't. You can get a contract wife for now. Don Pablo doesn't have much time to live. You can contact any woman for a year or two and then get a divorce."

    My face creased in a frown as realization dawned on me. Why haven't I thought of that since? That is why two heads would always be better than one. I have thought of ways to evade my father's crazy order and still keep my position but didn't find any, now Dante just solved it all for me. 

       "Get Pablo on the phone, I am going to California, and I am getting a wife," I said, standing from the stool and walking towards the door. "Inform Jerry and Alejandro about the new development, we will leave for California tomorrow."

      "Yes, sir!" Dante stood and saluted me with a smile. 

    ELLEN

       "Elena, table two has been waiting for over three minutes for someone to take their orders," Brad, the manager on the night shift, said to me as I moved over to the counter to retrieve an order.

      I sighed and watched him, trying so hard to ignore that he still got my name wrong even after a thousand corrections. He smiled at me and started towards Helen, my co-worker. I carried the drinks I was supposed to deliver and walked over to the table. I saw Brad from the corners of my eyes, talking to the men seated at table two. I knew he was getting their orders. 

    He stopped me with wide eyes as I approached the table after serving table four. "Ella, I told you to serve table two..." he whispered through clenched teeth.

      "My name's Ellen."

    He arched an eyebrow at me. "Does that matter right now?" I managed a small smile and shook my head. "Those people are from Monero Empire, and their CEO is there. Quickly serve them before they lose their patience. We can't lose big customers like them."

      "I understand, sir," I said, restraining myself from rolling my eyes.

      "Good. Get them two bottles of Barbaresco 2007 and three cocktails." He started to walk away but stopped and leaned closer. "Make sure you smile while serving them, and don't talk back." He finally walked away.

I rolled my eyes and turned to get the order while wondering what Lily's workplace was celebrating. Many men, over six or seven of them, surrounded the table, all in dark, tailored suits. I took out my phone from my pocket and texted Lily.

        'Hey, girl, what's the celebration at your company about?'

Lily replied immediately.  'Oliver Monero, the heir to Monero Empire, is in town, and he will be handling things here for a while

       'What? Is he hot?'

       'I have not seen him before, but I guess he is. Are they not always hot? By the way, what are you doing in my company?'

       'Nothing. Some men from there are here, and Brad wants me to lick their feet.' Lily sent me a laughing emoji. 

         As I turned around, I saw Brad staring at me and pointing to table two frantically. I looked around; Helen and Karim were less busy than I was, but Brad always picked on me. I don't know why he always wants me to do all the work. Clearly, it wasn't because of how I rendered services, and I have a gut feeling that he hates me. I turned to the bartender, Ryan, and smiled at him, he smiled back. Ryan was very fond of me, maybe because of Sophie.

     "Two bottles of Barbaresco  2007 and three cocktails, please."

      "I got you," Ryan said and dived behind to get my order. 

  I fought my head from shifting towards Brad again, I didn't want him to ask me to develop wings and fly over to table two. He should serve them himself if he felt the need to keep them. Ryan returned shortly with the drinks and handed me the tray. I carried it and walked away, nodding him thanks.

      For some strange reason, my heart began to thump as I walked toward table two. I didn't understand what the feeling was, maybe because I was going to meet the CEO of Monero Empire for the first time, or perhaps I might do something awkward in the presence of these well-dressed men. I slowed down a bit, took in a deep breath, and forged ahead, putting up my best smile. They were humans, after all.

        "Barbaresco and cocktails," I announced as I got to the table.

   The seven men all turned to look at me. My heart and confidence dropped to the floor, as well as the tray I held in my hand, spilling the drinks on HIM.

       It was not the eyes on me that caused me to spill the drink, it was a particular pair of eyes. The man I was standing beside. He had his back on me all this while, and I didn't recognize him. He was here after five years of searching for him, and then I got to see him just like that, out of nowhere, in a bar I work at. Everything stood still as I stared at him, frozen while he stared blankly at me. I don't know how long I stood there staring, but I was jerked back to reality by Brad.

       "Elena, what is wrong with you?"

       "Shit!" the father of my child cursed and removed his suit jacket. Brad ran over to him and started wiping his white shirt, which the drink had somehow stained.

      I blinked severally, trying to convince myself that none of this was real, I must be dreaming, or this was a figment of my imagination. Did Oliver not remember me?

      "Mr. Oliver Monero, I am so sorry for this," Brad apologized and shot me a sharp stare. "Get a piece of cloth to clean up this mess!"

      Was his name Oliver Monero? He was the heir to the Monero Empire. He had been close all this while. OLIVER MONERO! MONERO EMPIRE! started ringing in my head. 

      "Is this how you run this place?!" Oliver stood up and barked at Brad before turning to look at me. One of the men that sat with him stood and tried to hold him, but he snatched his hand away. "What kind of clumsy employees do you have here?! You should hire experts, not some woman who can't control herself at the sight of men."

      I felt the anger seething in me. What was wrong with him? Was I not allowed to make mistakes? I opened my mouth to defend myself, but Brad glared at me, and I shut it immediately, and he turned back to Oliver.

       "I am so sorry, sir, we will do something about this, I promise."

 Oliver's eyes were still on me, they were dark and furious, and there was no recognition in them. It got me wondering if it was just the drink I spilled on him that was getting him this pissed, or was it something else? 

     "You better do," he gritted and sat down back.

      "I am sorry, sir, I will be careful next time," I apologized. 

       "Sorry doesn't make up for poor services," he said in a raspy voice. 

   Brad gestured for me to leave the place. I walked away, trying to calm myself from bursting out.  A few minutes passed before Brad walked up to me. I braced myself for his scolding. He stared meticulously at me when he was standing in my front.

      "Ella, what was that about?"

       "It was a mistak—"

         "You don't make mistakes with this kind of people, you should be near perfect."

           "Well, no one is perfect."

           "That is why I said near perfect. You were not even remorseful; he is angry. Do you know who he is?"

              "No, but—"

             "He is a very important guest."

              "I know, but—"

             "I should fire you on the spot."

                 "What?" I stared at him, stunned. I can't be fired, how was I going to get another job here? "I'm really sorry, I will be more careful next time."

          "I will have to suspend you for a month. Mr. Oliver suggested you should be fired, but because I like you, you are a good worker, and I don't want to lose you, I will have to suspend you for a month—"

        "No, Brad, you can't do that."

          "Yes, I can, Elena—"

           "It's Ellen," I snarled.

         Brad waved me off. "Look, I don't want you to leave, but you must stay away until things die down a little, or maybe until Oliver forgets about this incident." He walked away, leaving me there to my fate. 

     I blinked back the tears that stung me and looked toward Oliver's table. His back was turned to me, and he was carrying on with whatever conversation he was having with the other men, leaving me to my fate. I don't blame him, he doesn't know how difficult life was for others, so he could bark out orders to get people to lose their jobs without second thoughts. I wiped my eyes and started toward the staff room to retrieve my belongings. To hell with Oliver, he will never know about Sophie.