MAFIA TIES

Chapter One

Sophia

I'd only been working at Club Noir for a few weeks, but it already felt like a second home. Not that I had much choice. My options were limited, and my bills didn't care about my career aspirations. When Jenna, my roommate, had suggested the job, I'd hesitated. "It's just for a while," she'd said. "Until you find something better. Plus, the tips are good and the atmosphere is lively."

Jenna had a knack for putting a positive spin on things, and she wasn't wrong about the tips. The club was packed every night, a swirl of neon lights and pulsing beats that made it easy to forget, if only for a few hours, the rest of the world outside.

But tonight, something felt different. The usual hum of chatter and laughter seemed to hang in the air, heavier somehow. As I stood behind the bar, mechanically mixing drinks and offering practiced smiles, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to happen.

I caught sight of my reflection in the mirrored wall behind the bar—a sleek white shirt with neatly buttoned cuffs and a deep bordoux skirt that hugged my hips, standard issue for the staff here. The name tag pinned to my shirt read "Sophia Marchetti," a stark reminder of the person I was expected to be while I was on the clock.

I'd learned quickly to navigate the chaos of the club, to slip into the role of the attentive, unflappable bartender. It was easier to keep my thoughts at bay that way, to focus on the rhythm of pouring drinks and the exchange of cash. But tonight, my thoughts kept drifting, and no amount of work could distract me from the sense of unease creeping up my spine.

The moment Alexander Russo walked through the doors, it was as if the music took on a lower, more ominous tone. I'd heard his name whispered around the club before—a figure shrouded in mystery and power. He was the kind of man people noticed, whether they wanted to or not. And tonight, the entire room seemed to hold its breath as he entered.

I tried not to stare, but it was difficult not to. He moved with a quiet authority, the crowd parting subtly as he made his way through. Even the bartenders, usually too busy to care about much of anything, seemed to pause in their tasks. There was something about him that demanded attention, and I couldn't help but feel a shiver of apprehension mixed with curiosity.

I glanced at my boss, who gave me a quick nod. It was time for me to make my rounds in the VIP section. I balanced a tray of drinks and made my way through the throng of people, the sporadic flashes of colored lights guiding my path.

The private area was a world away from the chaotic energy of the main floor. It was plush, dimly lit, and suffused with a tension that made my skin prickle. Alexander was seated at a round table, flanked by his bodyguards, his expression unreadable. Across from him sat a man I didn't recognize, but the way he held himself—tense and guarded—told me all I needed to know about the nature of their conversation.

I tried to stay invisible as I approached the table, carefully setting down the drinks. But Alexander's voice cut through the air like a knife, low and authoritative.

"—this deal needs to be finalized tonight."

The other man shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. "I understand, but we need more time to consider the terms."

Alexander's gaze was unyielding. "Time isn't something we have in abundance. Either you meet my terms or we walk away from this."

I focused on my task, trying to keep my movements smooth despite the charged atmosphere. As I turned to leave, I made the mistake of glancing up. Alexander's eyes met mine, and I felt a jolt of something I couldn't quite name—an assessment, a curiosity, maybe even a challenge.

I quickly averted my gaze and hurried back to the bar, my heart pounding. What was that? I'd never been one to get flustered by the club's clientele, but something about Alexander Russo had unsettled me in a way I couldn't ignore.

The rest of the night passed in a blur, my thoughts constantly returning to that brief, charged moment in the VIP section. I needed a break, a chance to clear my head. After serving the last of the late-night crowd, I excused myself from the bar and headed to the staff toilets.

The hallway leading to the bathrooms was a welcome reprieve from the noise and heat of the club. I slipped inside, grateful for the moment of solitude. The bathroom was dimly lit, the mirror above the sink reflecting a tired but determined version of myself. I adjusted my shirt, the name tag with "Sophia Marchetti" catching the light.

I washed my hands and splashed some water on my face, hoping to shake off the unease that had settled in the pit of my stomach. The cool water helped, but only a little. As I turned to dry my hands, I froze.

There, in the mirror's reflection, was Alexander Russo. He stood behind me, his presence so quiet that I hadn't heard him enter. My heart skipped a beat, and I turned slowly to face him.

"Miss Marchetti," he said, his voice smooth and too close for comfort. "I thought I might find you here."

I swallowed, trying to steady my nerves. "Mr. Russo. I didn't expect to see you."

He stepped closer, his gaze never leaving mine. "I couldn't help but notice your reaction earlier. You seem to have a knack for being in the right place at the right time."

I glanced at the mirror, then back at him, trying to read the expression behind his calm demeanor. "I guess I just try to keep my eyes open."

He smiled faintly, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. "That's a useful trait, especially in places where things aren't always what they seem."

For a moment, the world outside the bathroom seemed to disappear. The pulsating beats and flashing lights were a distant memory. All I could focus on was the intensity of his gaze and the strange allure of his presence.

"Well," I said, trying to regain my composure. "I should get back to work. It's been quite a night."

He nodded, but there was something in his eyes—an unspoken challenge or perhaps a promise. "Do take care, Sophia. We might be seeing more of each other."

With that, he turned and left, leaving me standing alone in the bathroom, my thoughts swirling. What had just happened? And why did I feel like this was only the beginning of something much more complicated?