Chapter 4

Zita's POV

Mr. Camper and his friends have left the boot. Only the assistant stands off in the corner.

I walk over and awkwardly sit down next to him. He's going over those documents again; the pages are wet with wine.

How am I supposed to…

Dario leans back and turns to look at me. I can feel every single hair in my body rise.

"Why do I feel like you're more than just a senseless harlot, girl?"

Oh! Okay.

I clench my fists but I can't say anything. What exactly would I say to a man like this? Dario adjusts the clear, frameless glasses on his nose and sighs.

"Go on…"

I'm flustered, hot and sweaty. It's hard to breathe and I can't tell why.

Perhaps it's fear…or something else.

I stretch my hand, not wanting to sit any closer than I am now, and wipe the stain on his shirt. It's not helping matters.

He raises his hand and places it on my arm, drawing me closer with force. His skin is cold; it makes me shiver.

"Mister…"

"Do you know who I am, girl?" He asks, still holding me. My boobs are pressed to his arm, his face is dangerously close to mine. Everything about this moment is weird and so uncalled for.

Why was he so concerned about a common bottle girl?

Most would have fired me at once and be done with it.

Or wait…

Did he suspect…

I try to keep all emotions off my face at this point. I was in the presence of a very dangerous man.

"No, sir. I don't." This is my reply to his question. I think that this answer will satiate him until he laughs. He lets go of my arm, reaches out behind me, and yanks my hair back.

"Argh!" I cry out. My eyes are burning; I know I've messed up.

"I ask again. What did you want to achieve coming to this table? If I'm not wrong, this table is reserved only for the manager to serve. I will not ask you again…who fucking sent you?"

I'm seeing stars now. He did not care to humiliate me sexually or anything of the sort.

All this time; he had been suspicious.

I underestimated him.

"N-no one! No one, sir. I'm new here…I don't know the rules!" I scream out in pain as every single second, his hand gets a little tighter.

"New? You think I'd believe that excuse?" Dario comes closer to me; close enough that I feel his cool breath on my neck. Goosebumps rise on my skin.

"You better start talking, slut. Or I'll rip your throat right here. I don't think anyone would notice the difference between the wine and your rotten blood."

He's serious. I can tell from the way he's pulling my hair- the tone of his voice.

"I beg you, sir! P-please believe me. Y-you…you can send for the manager and confirm!"

Hearing this, he lets go of my hair and shifts his face away from me.

I immediately struggle to my feet, feeling my heart race madly. I had come so close to losing my life.

Dario looks at his shirt. "You didn't do a good job, girl."

No shit, Sherlock.

Instead of saying that, I smile like a fool; with tears in my eyes and cat ears on my scattered hair.

"S-sorry about that, sir."

Dario makes a humming sound and waves at me to leave. As I wobble away, I hear him ask his assistant if the car has arrived.

I don't bother answering the calls of other tables and rush straight to the restroom.

My heart is pounding and I can barely breathe. See what father had caused…

I am now in a world I had only seen on TV shows. The underground. In fact, I had just had an encounter with one of the most dangerous of them all.

Dario Giovanni.

With his spectacles and angular face, people would mistake him for a legal, upstanding businessman.

But, oh, was he far from that.

The bathroom door opens so I immediately wash the tears from my face. My hands are shaking from residual fear.

"Oh my God, Zita! Was that you I saw with Mr. Giovanni just now?"

I forcefully rub my eyes to wash off the running mascara. I raise my head, and find my face towel in my purse.

"What? Why?" My voice is hoarse- like I've been without water for fucking seventy days.

Mira, a bottle girl like me, is the only friend I've been able to make in the two weeks I've been here. The others were either rude cunts or just too aloof to care.

"Why? Are you seriously asking me that?! You were so close to him. It was extremely hot! Fuck, girl."

Hot…

Well maybe. I was so close to seeing hell at that moment.

I look at Mira like she's a ghost. "You can't be serious. Do you know who that fucker was?" I hiss quietly. I'm paranoid now, afraid the walls would somehow hear me and I'd be back in that chair; sweating and about to lose my neck.

"Do I know him? Of course. He's the owner of the fucking Giovanni Chain of Industries and of course…a mafia don."

"And you find that hot?! I-I could have died."

Mira rolls her eyes and comes up to the sink to touch up her makeup. "Yeah. Of multiple orgasms, no doubt."

What?!

I have no more words to say so I shakily finish up and tell Mira I'll be clocking off early. Of course, she made a teasing remark about how I needed to finish myself off at home.

I walk home that night, too on edge to take a cab. My house wasn't that far, but it was quite the walk.

The entire place is quiet when I get back. "Mom, I'm home!"

I kick off my heels with a sigh and even have to raise my left ankle up to massage the bruise.

"Mom?"

Mom is usually quiet; as she was losing a little more strength every day. It's a normal thing for her to be silent so I don't bother calling out again.

I take off my coat and hang it in our tiny closet. I had changed out of the damned costume before I came home but had somehow forgotten the cat ears on my head.

I pull it off and it takes a few strands of golden hair.

"Ouch."

Sighing again, I walk to my mother's room and open it. "Hey, mom…"

My voice hitches in my throat at the sight in front of me.

Mom is in the recliner chair and her mouth has been gagged. She's unconscious and in a straightjacket.

What is this…

Who…

I'm losing my breath. How did they know where I lived?

"Mom? Mom!"

I rush over to her and immediately start to free her from the jacket. There's a cold layer of sweat over her forehead and her breathing is shallow.

"Mom…please stay with me mom!"

I'm crying; hot tears streaming down my face. They've gone too far!

I just manage to put her on the bed when my phone starts to ring. "H-hello?" I didn't bother to check the ID.

"I believe you've found the little wrapped gift we left you. I'm afraid that's all we could do; she was…struggling a bit."

The masked voice on the other end is familiar.

"It's been two weeks, beautiful. And you messed up the first chance you had. This is a warning."

My heart drops all the way to my stomach.

"Next time you make a mistake like this, we won't be so kind."

The line goes dead.