CRIADO. [ MATURE ]

Prologue: In which she loses a job

◭ PLEASE READ ◭

This is the changed version of the previous first chapter, "Good luck and some bad". I've decided that I would like to restart this story, sort of. Same characters. A bit of a different storyline and a slight change in attitude of the characters you've already met. I hope that all of my readers enjoy this change so, hopefully I get lots of feedback and help you understand a bit more the of the characters i know you'll grow to love just as I have!

◭ END OF NOTE ◭

You don't own me.

I'm not just one of your many toys.

You don't own me.

Don't say I can't go with other boys.

"You gotta be fuckin' kiddin me man! It was just a fucking roofie!" A man who stood on the opposite side of the bar struggled against one of the several large bouncers who were pushing his thick wrists into a set of cuffs. It was as average of a night as any other. A creepy older man tried to get some kind of powdered substance into a young girl's drink and if it hadn't been for mariella standing right there, flat out catching this man attempt to be sly, that poor girl would've gone missing.

"Again, I mean, thank you so much. I was so stupid-"

The petite brunette raised one of her dainty hands, a gentle laughter leaving her lips. "No, I don't mind, it happens, y'know?" Returning her attention to the wet countertop, she briskly wiped it down with a white cloth, quietly sighing. Every five minutes that went by, her eyes would be checking the cheap watch on her wrist. It wasn't even 11 yet and she was ready to head for the hills. You'd think working in a club owned by some super hot russians would always keep the party living, but not when you worked for them.

It was nothing but serious cleaning and a barely above average paycheck.

"You know, Ms- Bellandi, You look like you could use a little bit of fun, hm?"

She raised her head, her perfectly shaped eyebrows knitting together in confusion before she rolled her eyes playfully, giving the slightest of shrugs but she couldn't help another lighthearted laugh at the way the young blonde waggled her eyebrows. "And do what exactly? Moving from behind this counter means I get an earful of words I don't speak," Though she couldn't lie, looking at everyone else around her dancing around and enjoying life did make her the slightest bit jealous.

She wasn't even dressed for a clubbing occasion. A simple pair of shorts and a red top that read bold letters, criado. It wasn't exactly a name held by the russians who worked along here, but to the big boss that didn't make an appearance often in the club, or ever in front of her for that matter. But, from what she'd heard, he was supposedly a real asshole.

"Well, for one, you can live a little and take a time out. Five minutes. That's it," A devious glint of a smile crossed the blonde's soft features and for some reason, she found it quite hard to deny, the idea even appealed to her. Five minutes couldn't hurt, right?

"I don't even know your name-"

"Angela Fausti. Now, get your ass around that counter and come dance with me!" The sudden raise of her voice made Ella realize just how loud the booming bass shook her core, and she allowed the sound of Disclosure and Sam Smith to lure her from behind the counter but only after telling another worker she had to take a quick bathroom break.

Aside from her roommate and best friend, Lola, she hadn't associated too much with any other girl, and it was nice to have more female company. As she was tugged out into the dance floor, she stood eye to eye level with Angela who was just about her height. At first she was quiet stiff, nervously glancing round for any sightings of her bosses. It made her anxious, and that wasn't something she enjoyed.