CHAPTER TWO

AVA’s POV

We end up dispersing, and without having to see what the Leonornado Falcone looks like, I shrug my shoulders. I could check him out after work. I’ve never been a woman for gossip, but the rumors around this particular man make it worth checking out.

We serve the next meal, and while at it, two large men, both decked in dark suits from top to bottom and their arms fixed into their trench coats, I can already guess they have guns with them. I almost duck when the room goes entirely silent, and Oliver calls on us immediately, like some cult meeting is about to happen.

We quickly walk into the kitchen, and we don’t catch the third figure that appears. Is that the Leonardo Falcone? Why can’t we see him? Does he have some scars? Is he hiding? Is the police after him or something? I’m about to direct my questions to the redhead when Oliver stops our conversation.

‘You are both free to go; you are done for the night; you will get your paycheck for this job tomorrow morning; or Ben will drop it off at your house tonight’, he says, referring to the restaurant driver.

‘Okay, Mr. Oliver, but I wanted to speak to you about something'. I pipe up. It is very urgent, sir.

‘The restaurant can’t afford to pay you an extension, Ava’. He says in a condescending tone, Maybe you can try getting another job at some bar; I’m sure many stripper bars would accept you, he says smugly and walks away like being mean has some award.

I hear a chuckle, and the redhead walks away.

I frown, my eyes filling with tears, but I don’t let it fall. I would do anything to succeed, not for my own good but to make sure my brother gets the best. Being 13 years old and stuck with my suffering grandparents with an ailment is hard.

I quickly wipe my tears and head into the locker room.

‘I’m going to wait out front to see if I can get a glimpse of Leonardo Falcone’. I hear the redhead say to one of the girls.

‘Maybe he’ll even try to get me home with me’. She bites her lip, pulls her hair from the bun, and turns to the mirror in her locker.

I ignore them and open up my locker, my reflection staring back at me. I pull my hair out of the bun, and my dark hair cascades down my back and bounces around my shoulders. My narrow eyes pull into a scrunch when I hear the sound of ladies giggling to themselves happily like they are going to win the jackpot tonight.

I’ve been around this city long enough to know magic doesn’t happen. I pull off my work clothes and grab my jeans and T-shirts. Looking out the window, I realize how late it is, and I increase my pace, paying no mind to my coworkers pulling on make-up. I grab my purse, sliding it between my breasts, and move towards the kitchen.

My favorite part of this job? The free food we get to take home after each day

‘Thank you, Frances’ I tell the kind older chef as he hands me my to-go bag. I don’t know what is inside, but I know it will be good.

‘No problem, Ava. Have a good night and be safe, oui?’

‘Yes Frances’ I reply by pushing the back door open, and the cool air hits me in the face.

I take a deep breath when the back door is pushed open again and Mr. Oliver pops up, two garbage bags in hand.

‘Dispose of this, won’t you?’ He drops the bags by my feet and disappears back inside the door, closing with a loud thud.

Rolling my eyes, I look down the dark aisle and gulp. Maybe I can just run and get it done quickly before anything can snatch me in the dark.

I grab both bags and head into the darkness. It feels like a long walk into hell, but it takes a few steps, and I throw it into the garbage can. That’s when I hear a sound—a grunt, followed by another.

I run down the aisles to the only single source of light when a man falls to the floor, blood pooling around his lips, coughing hard, and trying to stand up. He’s picked up again by his collars and kicked to the ground when I scream. My scream is followed by two large men coming into the light; one frowns, dark shades around his eyes, and the other stares at me, his finger bruised and blood dripping from his knuckles.

The bruised man is dropped to the floor, grunting and coughing. Shock keeps me still as I stare intently at the scene, my eyes coated with tears and my hands around my mouth.

‘I didn’t see anything.’ I whisper, about to turn around, but I’m grabbed by the collar of my jacket.

‘Let her go'. I hear a deep gruff voice’.

Hmghhh, the one who grabbed my jacket huffs, ‘You didn’t see anything, girl’ He whispers roughly and pushes me to the side, leading to the streets.

My legs don’t pick up immediately; it feels like as soon as I walk out of here, that man will be dead, but am I ready to risk my life for another man I do not know? Quickly, without thinking twice about it, I turn and my feet carry me away from the scene, and just before I leave, I catch a glimpse of the shadow in the corner who spoke up and probably saved my life tonight, but not only the shadow; I catch a glimpse of a silver gun in his hand, the only thing that shines brightly in the darkness. It sends a chill up my spine as I reach the side of the road.