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Sold To The Mafia King
Sold To The Mafia King
Author: Jakayla Olson

Chapter 1 : Pouring on the Charm

Author: Jakayla Olson
last update Last Updated: 2024-03-07 21:07:43

I walked aimlessly down the street, not really paying attention to where I was going. My mind was spinning with everything that had happened in the past 24 hours. It all felt like a cruel nightmare, but the duffel bag slung over my shoulder was a painful reminder that it was a harsh reality.

Dmitri, my boyfriend of two years, had dumped me so suddenly and callously. One moment we were making dinner plans for the weekend, and the next he was screaming at me to get out. The look of cold disdain in his eyes as he handed me the check will haunt me forever. I gave him everything—my love, my trust, and my body. And he threw it all away, all for that whore who stood by his side with the most disgusting smirk I wanted to wipe off so badly.

I stumbled upon a park and collapsed onto a bench, succumbing to the torrent of tears I’d been holding back. My sobs echoed through the empty place as darkness fell. How could he do this to me? What had I done so wrong to make him stop caring? These questions swirled in my mind, taunting me with their unanswered misery.

The streetlights flickered on one by one, jolting me from my daze. I needed to find shelter for the night but had nowhere to turn. Dmitri cut me off from our shared friends, not wanting me to “tarnish” his reputation. My parents were dead to me, and I had no other family. That’s when I remembered Emercyn from my part-time job at the coffee shop.

She was the only person I could think to call. Emercyn answered on the first ring, concern evident in her voice when I told her what happened through choked tears. “Don’t move, I’m coming to get you,” she said gently but firmly. My mind swirled at how easily I was going to be manipulated. It was all in front of me, but I was too blinded to see it. He made me get a part-time job, and he allowed his ‘best friend’, aka his whore, Sheila, to work as an accountant in his company.

Emercyn arrived within half an hour, folding me into a comforting hug. She drove me back to her tiny apartment, letting me crash on her couch with a blanket and pillow. I must have cried myself to sleep from sheer emotional exhaustion. The next morning, she made me tea and toast, forcing me to eat something despite my lack of appetite. Over breakfast, she told me I could stay with her as long as I needed to get back on my feet. I was so thankful for her kindness.

After clearing away the dishes, Emercyn brought up the elephant in the room. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do now?” she asked hesitantly. I shook my head dejectedly, overwhelmed just thinking about the future. She placed a reassuring hand on mine. “A friend of mine told me about an exclusive bartender gig that pays really well. I think you should check it out,” she suggested.

I sighed, knowing I needed to find work fast if I wanted to stay afloat. Maybe bartending wouldn’t be so bad as a temporary solution. At this point, I was ready to try anything. “Do you have the details?” I inquired halfheartedly. Emercyn beamed, glad I was open to the opportunity, and scribbled down an address on a scrap of paper.

“They said to just show up tonight after 9. Wear something nice but comfortable. I really think this could be great for you,” she encouraged with a smile. I forced one in return, touched by her efforts to lift my spirits. After chatting for a little while longer, Emercyn had to leave for her day job at the bookstore.

Alone with my thoughts once more, I started to get dressed in one of my only semiformal outfits - a black pencil skirt and silky blouse. My makeup and hair took much longer than usual to do, mainly because my hands were still shaking from nerves and leftover anguish. By the time I deemed myself presentable, it was nearing 9 pm.

I took a deep breath before exiting Emercyn’s building into the chilly night. Following her directions, I walked the few blocks to an inconspicuous door tucked between two stores. There were no signs advertising the establishment within. Frowning in confusion, I thought perhaps I had the wrong address. Just then, the door swung open, startling me.

A tall, bald man in a sharp suit peered down at me impassively. “Name?” he grunted gruffly. “I-Isadora Cortez,” I stammered, intimidated by his hulking presence. He glanced at a clipboard before nodding once. “You’re expected. Follow me,” he droned, gesturing for me to enter. I complied shakily, curious yet anxious about what awaited on the other side.

The interior was dimly lit and sparsely decorated, with plush booths and low tables scattered throughout the spacious room. Smooth jazz music filtered through discreet speakers, providing a sensual ambience. A long bar stretched along the far wall, stacked high with gleaming bottles of liquor. Only a smattering of well-dressed patrons have occupied the space so far.

My guide led me through a nondescript door behind the bar. I found myself in a bustling kitchen, where two harried chefs worked over steaming pots and pans. A beautiful Latina woman with flowing dark hair caught my eye, striding over purposefully. “You must be Isadora. I’m Rosaline, the manager. Please, follow me to my office so we can discuss the details,” she said with a lilting accent.

Her tone was professional yet friendly as she sat me down across from her wide mahogany desk. “Emercyn spoke highly of your work ethic and customer service skills. We’re looking for an extra pair of hands to assist our bartenders during busy evenings. The pay is twenty dollars an hour plus generous tips. How does that sound?” Rosaline proposed graciously.

My eyes widened in surprise and delight. That wage was drastically higher than my coffee shop job. I couldn’t believe my luck to stumble upon such an appealing opportunity so quickly. All thoughts of hesitation fled as financial security danced before me. “That sounds amazing, I’d love to take the position,” I replied eagerly. Rosa beamed at my enthusiasm.

“Wonderful! I’ll have you shadow Miguel tonight to get familiar with him. Then you can start your own shifts next week. Do you have any questions before we get you set up?” She inquired warmly. I racked my brain but came up empty, still reeling over the turn my fortunes had taken. “No, I think I’m all set. Thank you so much for this chance,” I answered gratefully.

Rosa escorted me back out to the bar area, introducing me to Miguel - a lanky, boyish man around my age. His smile was crooked yet charming as he showed me the complex mess of liquors, mixers, and equipment behind the counter. Miguel was patient and thorough in explaining the various cocktails, drink orders, and responsibilities expected of me.

By the time we got swamped with the late evening rush, I had gotten my sea legs and flowed through the motions rather smoothly thanks to his coaching. Customers were polite and left decent tips, to my delight. The hours passed in a blink as Miguel and I tag teamed filling drinks. At last call, I collapsed onto a bar stool, sweaty and exhausted yet buzzing with adrenaline.

“You did amazing for your first night, Isadora. I think you’ll fit in great around here,” Miguel commented sincerely as we did a cursory cleanup. Rosa arrived to check on us, impressed by what she observed over my shoulder. “You picked up bartending fast. I’m looking forward to having you officially join our team,” she praised. I beamed under the positive feedback, proud that my efforts had paid off.

After wrapping up the final touches and cashing out my tips, Miguel offered to walk me out. We exited through the discreet door onto the empty street, the club patrons long gone. A shiver ran through me as the brisk autumn air hit my skin. Miguel noticed my trembling and gallantly draped his jacket around my shoulders with a charming smile. “Let me make sure you get home safely. Which way?” he prompted kindly.

I blushed, unused to such gentlemanly behaviour after Dmitri. Miguel seemed genuinely sweet as we conversed during our stroll to Emercyn’s. All too soon, we arrived at the familiar building, stopping at the threshold. “Thanks again for everything. I really appreciate you looking out for me,” I expressed gratefully. His returning grin made my stomach erupt with butterflies.

Before I knew what was happening, Miguel closed the space between us and pressed his soft lips to mine in a swift yet delicate kiss. Sparks shot through me as I stood frozen in shocked delight. Just as quickly, he pulled away with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. “I’d like to take you out for a real date if you’re interested. Let me know your thoughts,” he uttered tenderly yet nervously, backing away with a small wave before my stunned silence could continue any longer.

My fingers floated up to touch my tingling mouth, still reeling from the intimate moment. Miguel was undeniably attractive and kind, a far cry from my past mistakes with men. But was I ready to open my battered heart again so soon? I trudged upstairs, lost in perplexing contemplation, exhausted yet wired all at once from this wildly eventful first night at my mysterious new job. 

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