Yara |18+|

03

YARA

"I can't believe Mario is making you do this."

I gazed at Alexis through the mirror, noting the annoyed look on her face. She sat on her bed while I made use of her dressing table, finding it too dreary getting ready in my own apartment when I could have the company of a snarky and concerned Alexis.

She rolled her eyes, folding her arms over her chest while she let out a comical sigh. I glanced down at the watch on my wrist, finding that I barely had an hour left to start my shift.

"He's not making me do anything," I murmured as I tilted my head to the side, quietly observing my outfit for the night.  The skirt was short, and it barely covered the tattoo at the top of my thigh. As for the rest of my clothes, it covered what needed to be covered.

Every tattoo I had was hidden under Alexis special makeup.

"He knows you want to leave, Yara. He's making you do this because he knows how badly you want out," she explained, and a distasteful look made it way to her lips.

I turned around and faced her, offering a small smile. "You know Mario is a henchman like the rest of us. He has to answer the higher ups. He's the one who has to explain why he let me go. If he says I killed one of the most powerful men in the city, he'll say I deserve to be free. He knows what he's doing, Alexis."

"So what? He's doing you a favour?" she asked, her tone laced with sarcasm.

"He is," I shrugged. "You don't think Mario wanted to retire ages ago?"

Alexis paused, her eyes drifting off to the side. "No?"

I let out a small chuckle and turned back around to face the mirror. "He does. He's newly married and he has a baby on the way. Trust me when I say he wants to be a regular dad, and they won't let him."

"Okay, fine," she breathed out, quickly waving her hand. "I get it."

"But besides that," she continued. "What if this Vico knows the club? What if he's there often enough to notice a new waitress? Just meet him in the back of the building and stab him in the throat, for fucks sake. You don't need to pretend you want to fuck him."

"Pretend?" I repeated, scoffing out a small laugh.

Alexis gasped, clutching her imaginary pearls but I waved her off before she had a chance to say a word.

"I'm kidding," I muttered, watching her shocked face die down. "I'm kidding."

Of course I was kidding, but judging from Alexis' expression, she must have believed me. I grinned cheekily and bent over, grabbing my shoes. My hair curtained over my face, and I was reminded that it had been a while since I wore my hair down.

My usual curls had been flat ironed by an eager Alexis, and I had her to thank for the length I didn't know was there. I straightened up, breathing out a heavy sigh as I tried to find any imperfections in my reflection. Does it matter how I look? No, it didn't.

But I cared enough for it to matter. I wanted the night to be smooth sailing, and I made a mental note to remember I'm supposed to be a newbie waitress with the newbie naivety.

"Plus, I have to do it in a way that nobody knows it's me," I explained, finishing my look off with a pair of earrings. "Or else I'm thoroughly fucked."

That was understatement. An extreme understatement. Who knows what he'll do to me if I messed up? Or exposed myself? I didn't want to think about that but I had to—just in case. I internally winced at the consequences of fucking it up. No, I couldn't.