Chapter 2 La Margarita

Alessia's POV

I barely slept after the knocks . I found out soon after it was the next door not mine...As the morning light creaps in. I wake up body aching and bruised all over. The Bed didn't help as it was stiff and uncomfortable with threadbare blankets.

Sigh, cara mia… but that’s what you get when you lodge in a cheap hotel.

I sat up and rubbed my eyes, walking to the small dirty mirror in the toilet. My hair stood on end and my mascara left ugly black marks on my face. I shivered.

I looked terrible. My face was swollen and covered in black and blue bruises.

I splashed cold water on my face and stared into the dirty mirror.

“Okay, Alessia, get your shit together. Go out and find a job. La Margarita, the posh club on Gown Street, is always hiring.” The maids used to whisper about the decadent place. “Make some quick cash and skip town.”

I nodded at myself in the mirror and got dressed. Now that I had a concrete plan, what was next was action.

Once I was ready to roll , I walked around the room a bit, trying to organize my thoughts. I knew the Sirranos wouldn’t leave me alone. They thought I had La Rosa and would pawn it any chance I got. But I didn’t take it. I was innocent.

Who took La Rosa?

Who set me up?

I had no one in the world. How was I going to prove my innocence?

Dios mío, help me.

Holding my rosary tight in my hand , I ran a trembling hand through my hair, tidied up, and walked out of my room, locking the door and putting my key in my jeans pocket.

As I reached the stairs, I heard a menacing deep voice wafting up. I peeked and saw two bulky men standing at the counter.

“Check every room , make sure you find her,” one commanded, staring at Bob intently.

Bob swallowed, sitting up quickly, fear evident in his jerky movements.

“Right away, sir.” He started removing the master keys from the rack.

Shit it seems my time is up. Fear raced through me and I knew without a doubt they were here for me. I moved back up the stairs slowly, trying not to make too much sound and forewarn them. I tried to open my room with shaky fingers, but the key fell twice.

Dammit, Alessia, calm down .

It finally opened on the third try.

“Oh, thank the heavens.” I stepped inside, packing quickly. I didn't have much, just my duffel bag and clothes. Everything I have in this world can enter into this small duffel bag. My whole life I have worked with the Sirranos but all I have to show for it are a few outfits, my rosary, and memories I wish to escape.

I dropped the key on the table and slipped out the exit door, heart pounding in my chest. I hoped they hadn’t reached my floor yet. I glanced back down the alley twice but didn’t see anything. I quickened up my pace, covering my Red hair with my cardigas hoodie.

The alley was cold, damp, and narrow, but I didn’t pay care about that. All I cared about was making it out alive . I weaved through the backstreets, keeping my head low just incase someone I knew from the Sirrano mansion recognised me until I saw the neon sign I was looking for La Margarita illuminated up ahead.

I exhaled. Bravo, Alessia. Now the work begins. I hope this works ou..

Pulling my hoodie down, I stepped inside.

The club was dark, filled with music, chatter, and patrons. Girls danced on podiums in the skimpiest outfits I had ever seen. Men and women dressed to the nines sat at tables while waiters moved swiftly, taking and dropping orders. The air in the club reeked of Cuban cigars, margaritas, and sinful acts. Every laugh sounded like the art of temptation; every glance held a hint of peril. I felt like a little lamb walking into a den of were wolves. Shivering, I rubbed my hands up and down my sleeves.

I walked to the counter and asked the server for Silva.

“Who’s asking?” he said, not bothering to look up while serving shots.

“A girl looking for a job.” I didn’t mention my name.

His gaze flickered up briefly. “Third door on your left. Make sure you knock.”

I slid off the stool. “Thank you.”

Strutting off, I tried to look confident. Inside, I felt anything but, butif they noticed even a bit of weakness at a place like this, I’d never get hired.

As I walked to find Silva…

The owner of the posh club, mafia billionaire Alex Ferrini the only man powerful enough to rival the Sirranos and live to talk about it was being briefed about my fall from grace.

Alex Ferrini’s POV

Alex, six feet tall, dark-haired, with chiseled features and intense brown eyes, leaned back in his chair, smoking a Cuban cigar as his lackey placed evidence on the desk.

These days, nothing interested me. I only wanted what was rightfully mine La Rosa. I had been searching for a way to replicate it or seize it all my life. Perhaps Dio would answer my prayers now.

I picked up her photo. Something stirred in my chest. She was pretty, and that hair meant she was a spitfire. A stirring I hadn’t felt in a long time threatened me, but I squashed it.

Women are disposable. And she is a thief. Best not to let your heart get involved.

Dropping the photo, I faced my lackey, eyes burrowing into his pale, pathetic grey ones.

He started sweating, shivering under my gaze. “Boss… is that it?”

“Find her,” I said quietly, my mind already made up the minute I saw her photo. “Bring her to me… before night time.”

“Yes, boss,” he stammered, falling all over himself to escape the oppressive atmosphere.

Alessia Molano. Little birdie. Where are you hiding La Rosa? And who did you steal it for?

I would get my answers wherther she was willing to talk to me or not.

I leaned back in my leather chair, puffing on my Cuban cigar.