Skyscrapers Fall |18+|

Part I

| DAISY |

"I'm not surprised," Ella snorts, biting her lip to hide her amusement as the other girls all laugh.

"It feels like some kind of sick joke," I whine, "I mean, I knew my Mother wanted me to get a job, but demanding I get one within two days is ridiculous."

"There's bound to be somewhere that's hiring," Natalia shrugs, throwing a not-so-subtle wink towards our waiter as he serves us more drinks

She was definitely only half listening.

"I'm only nineteen," I continue, still wailing on about my misfortunes, "I don't want to end up working in some crappy fast food place."

"You'll be fine, hun," Ella says while rolling her eyes, "She just wants you to have the experience, you know, contribute to society for once."

I sigh, knowing she was completely right. Ella always is.

We were sat at our usual spot at the Citty Café, catching up on the latest gossip over a few rounds of drinks. Natalia, Ella and I had been best friends since high school; where Natalia lacked a single functioning brain cell, Ella made up for it sufficiently.

"I heard The Notturno Vio's looking for dancers," Ella suggests, watching Natalia as she slipped her number into the waiter's pocket, "it's not the safest option but it'll be good pay."

My pulse quickened at the mention of the infamous nightclub, "Strippers," I respond, swallowing the lump in my throat, "they're not looking for dancers, they're looking for strippers."

"Same thing," Ella murmurs.

Natalia shakes her head, tuning back into the conversation, "we all know there's rumours of Notturno Vio having ties with the Mafia, you'd be digging your own grave."

She was right, the club was owned by Vito Vecellio - the infamous millionaire playboy. He'd sparked up many controversial rumours of an involvement in illegal affairs. It was just too risky.

But what other choice do I have?

"You've done pole dancing before though, haven't you?" Ella recalls, her gaze locking on mine. She was right.

"Only as a hobby," I remind her, "I've never stripped."

"I could totally see you being a stripper," Natalia giggles, "in the best way, of course."

I felt like slapping myself, I can't believe I'm seriously debating this. Vito Vecellio is not someone you want to cross paths with, and working for him would only increase my chances.

"I'll think about it," I say, finishing up my drink, "in the meantime I'll just have to keep searching for alternatives."

"You don't have much time for that, Daisy," Ella states, a look of concern painting her face, "two days isn't enough time to pass up on an opportunity, you might not get another."

I sigh again, she was right. Again.

"Maybe they'd let you work behind the bar instead," Natalia smiles in an attempt to comfort me, "that would be way less intense."

"It's dancers they want, Nat," I remind her, lightly massaging my temples, "I doubt they're low on bartenders."

"We'll figure out something," Ella promises, "even if it's not a job you stick with."

We finish up our drinks and decided to head out, going our separate ways as the girls drive home. I prefer to walk.

Plugging in my headphones and gently humming, I turn left down a back alley; a shortcut I know well.

I turn up my music when I hear faint male laughter coming from behind me, hoping to drown out the sound.

"Where you going, gorgeous?" A drunken voice whistled from behind me.

I was about to keep walking and ignore him when another man came around and cornered me in from the front, leaving me with no escape.

My heart hammers in my chest as I begin to panic. There was no way out of this. I can't fight off two grown men.

They close in on me, cornering me in from all angles as their hands start to explore my body.

One of them laughs, "that's an expensive necklace you got there," he slurs, "mind if I take a look?"

My breathing quickens. I was frozen in place as I watched the man snatch away my locket; the only thing I have left of my father.

Just as I'd closed my eyes and accepted my fate, I feel their sweaty hands being ripped from my body and the sound of a gun cocking. This is it. I'm going to die.

"Are you alright, gattina?" An accented voice rasps, "are you hurt?"

It was the last thing I heard before I collapsed, strong arms stopping me from hitting the floor.

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