𝑳𝑰𝑩𝑬𝑹𝑻À

𝟎𝟏. 𝐌𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲

CHIARA:

5:55 pm

Only five more minutes until I could rip this bottle green  (now covered in coffee and ketchup) apron off, pull open that creaky wooden door and exit this overwhelmingly busy little street café I work in.

It was finally Friday. My next shift here at 'Café de Zoe' - ( I know.. so original right?) wasn't until Tuesday, meaning I had a long and luxurious 3 day weekend ahead.  And so I would need it I thought whilst letting out a little sigh. Friday is always the busiest day at PA'INA because it's the end of the week and almost everyone wants a drink.

PA'INA is the club that I work in, apparently it means party in Hawaiian? God knows; just like he knows how the hell I even managed to land myself this job in the first place. Considering, when I first approached Jo - the bouncer on that Saturday night, I was almost thrown out before I even got in.

I guess I'll just let my dazzling charm take the credit for convincing big old Jo to give me the job.

"Chiara! Hello! are you in there Chiara?" I'm snapped out of my thoughts as I hear Zoe calling to my attention.

"Yeah? sorry I just zoned out for a sec, what's up?" I reply, wiping my hands down my rough apron for the hundredth time. There's not even anything on my hands, it's just become habit.

"You can sign out, it's 6:02." Zoe replies with a warm smile as I hastily untie the rather tight knot around my waist, finally removing the disgusting piece of fabric from my body.

"Thank god. Fridays suck the life out of me." I sigh, giving her a quick hug goodbye and dumping my apron in the wash basket before heading for the door.

"Ciao!" I shout to Zoe and my other colleagues who were out the back—probably burning another croissant or pouring another cup of bitter coffee I expect.

Breathing in my first breath of fresh air in what felt like eternity, I've almost never felt better.
I look down to my Emperio Armani two toned watch that my mother gifted to me when I turned 18. It's got a dark blue face and gold hands. The strap is two toned though—it's in the name. I like it, it gives me more freedom to mix my metals since I'm neither a gold nor silver girl. I like a bit of both on different days, less is more though, definitely. 

It reads 6:09. I have precisely 21 minutes to go home, have a quick outfit change and arrive at the club by half past.

And you guessed it, I was late.

Well, in my defence, if it wasn't for that stupid white lace crop top that I couldn't find, I'm sure I would have arrived on time.

The house has been a mess since my mother left two months ago, and I've had no time to clean it whilst working two jobs almost everyday, but I will, I promise. Someday, hopefully one soon.

I heave myself up the last flight of stairs to the club, finally catching a glimpse of the bright neon pink sign that reads PA'INA, hung directly above the entrance door by a shiny silver nail that I worry will collapse every time I spot it hanging on for dear life.

I reach the last step and walk across the landing, ready to greet Jo with a hug after not having seen him in almost a week. He was sick, not a rare occurrence if I'm being totally honest, but this is the longest time he's had off. 7 whole days. And the four that I work here were pretty dull without him to pop out and have a chat with.

I turn the corner, my heart drops ten feet and increases at the same time.

Jo is on the floor with three bulky men crowded around him, their stances strong and powerful. All wearing the same black trousers, shiny black shoes and blazer. They're covering his face, they're drowning such a joyful soul with their heavy presence. I can't see whether he's okay, breathing, alive. I scowl for even thinking it.

Enzos men.

Last week they were at my front door and now my work one too? They'll never give it up. Me up.

I reach my hand down my skirt until it hits my glock, always by my side whenever I need it. Never not around my thigh.

I bring it out in front of me, ignoring the impulse to end the bastards one by one. I may have a gun but I fucking hate using it. The sound, the impact, the recoil. And most importantly, the fact that it can end a man's life in seconds. I've never been a cold hearted killer and I pray I never will. Enzo and his men make that hard for me though, so if carrying a gun everywhere with me means potentially saving my life, I'll do what I have to.

I take a deep breath in, already exhausted from those damn stairs.

"Stop!"

It was no surprise that all three of these big and slightly intimidating men would turn to face me, guns-blazing. But the way they spun around so sharply and in unison almost made me giggle.

A girl with a gun, giggling. I was never cut out for this.

The slight humour I was beginning to feel, suddenly left me as I examined each face standing before me, unable to recognise a single one. And if I am being totally honest, that was almost upsetting and partly concerning. You see, I had gotten to know Enzos bitches throughout the long duration of encounters I have had to endure with them.

Martin: the stockiest of Enzos men had a bad left knee, I can't even recall how I came to find out about this but it became a crucial bit of knowledge for me, and obviously, a great advantage. For me, I mean. One kick on the shin would make him drop like a fly, every damn time.

But Martin was not here. And I had no secret tactics up my sleeves ready to whip out in order to help me escape these men standing before me, guns still aimed at my chest.

"New minions have been employed I see." I spit. Blank expression but I'm dying inside because I don't really know why the hell I just let that thought out, but the looks of confusion shared between the trio in front of me almost made it worth it.

"And they can act too?" I chuckle out but their perplexed facial expressions remain. I won't buy it though, not this time. I learnt that mistake far too long ago. You don't trust a man with a gun, and you  never trust one who can look so worried whilst holding it.

They all knew exactly what they're doing and who they're looking for - me. Always me. For reasons I'd quite frankly give anything to know. My father—always a mysterious man, but I underestimated quite how deep that mystery went. And that was the biggest mistake now that it's resurfacing, and he's dead.

"Ma'am please put down your weapon!"                                                                                                                   

The voice came from the fella with the curly dark brown hair and lighter eyes, positioned on the left.

The cheek. The utter cheek that came from this little puttana telling me to lower my one trusty little gun as if three weren't pointed directly at my 5"5 body.

"After you, curly sue." I snap back as I feel my confidence growing, rapidly.

My pride was cut short when a shiver went spiralling down my spine. Not the good ones—not that they ever are. But this isn't the adrenaline I usually tend to experience with a shaking gun in my hand. This is an impressive laugh echoing from behind my back. It travels through the air, tensing my shoulders as my palm gathers more sweat, and the grip I've got around my gun begins to slip.

My feet are glued solid to the ground, and I've got no idea whether I'm meant to turn around and face whatever creature I may find, or wait for another sign of confirmation that I haven't gone mad enough to experience hallucinations yet, and there is definitely someone stood right behind me.

Until he spoke, and I didn't need to wonder a second longer.

"That's what I call him."

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A/N: please vote <3

AAHHH first chapter what do you guys think?? are these also Enzos men or some new people and what are they doing at PA'INA??

Hope you enjoyed ♥

Edited:
Jan 2023
August 2023