not you're average mafia brothers and sister story..
This is the story of Natasha Clark, an assassin, mafia boss, and most of all the long lost sister of the 6 Morales brothers. After fallen victim of a divorce at the ripe age of seven, Natasha's mo...
I clasp on the final earring and step back to view my outfit in the mirror. Pin straight hair, golden locket, diamond studs, a black glowy gown and last but not least, my Louboutin heels that Nico gifted me on our first date. This fit screams rich, wealthy men's club attire which was exactly where I was headed.
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I leave my boyfriend's modern house and take an Uber towards the final destination. The Harper Mens club was the most elite private club in all of the world, apart from the infamous Valhalla club. The Harper club was founded by Charles's dad, Mr.Harper and is only exclusive for the underworld members of the mafia.
Whilst on the other hand, the Valhalla club was directed solely for the extremely rich and wealthy, the legal way if you may.
"We're here." The taxi driver parks outside the extravagant venue. I pay him the cash due and walk up the steps till I'm greeted by the door man. Only 100 members across the entire world have authorisation to access these hidden gems, me being one of them. "Natasha Clark, the British Donna." I repeat to the bouncer.
It somewhat feels as if I'm abusing my power due to the fact that I've lost two best friends from it.
Shrugging off the negative thought, the man bows down to me and escorts me in. Once I enter, I'm transported to a whole other world of wealth. The crystal chandelier dangles as a welcome sign and I pass it, making my way towards the bar. There are a whopping total of 84 Harper Mens Clubs that are situated all across the globe.
What can I say, the man likes his assets.
Given that it's already 10, the club has a few members crowding around. This was the Brazilian club but I've heard the one in Nevada is the flagship, I would go there but travelling into enemy territory is not how I planned on dying. I recognise a few familiar faces as I come closer towards the wooden bar.
Did I forget to mention that this place was built ages ago? Almost 70 years to be exact.
I haven't exploited my membership yet so this is my first time using one of the exclusive mafia only clubs. I would be lying if I said the nerves weren't kicking in right about now. I just need to keep my eyes on the prize. Other members recognise me from the charity ball last month but I dismiss their stares as I sit down on the barstool.
I think that I'm the only member here that's under 18, some would say that's a flex but I don't really care that much.
Me begging a reckless 17 year old, killed one of my best friends and made me lose another. I'll carry that burden to the grave. My eyes scan the two bartenders in front of me and I wave over the one with the french moustache, just as my ex instructed me to. Never in the past few years I would've thought that I would be taking orders from Damien again.
Yet here we are.
"One Skewered Heart with gin please." I don't forget my manners. He nods to me and turns towards the shelves of bottles. He takes out an old stained brown one and inside there's a piece of paper. He taps it out and hands it to me. "Mr.Charles strictly instructed me to inform you to read the sheet after the beverage is served ma'am." I nod to his words and he begins concocting my drink.
