Claimed By The Ruthless Mafia Lord

"Laurel...I have told you times without numbers that I can't make it to thanksgiving. Give me some credit. I work my ass out here every day. I don't exactly play around."

Laurel Marco rolled her eyes as she made her way out of her apartment. She listened carefully, only to sigh when her sister harshly explained why she wouldn't make it to thanksgiving. It was the same excuse over and over again. It was so unlike her to argue with her sister.

"I understand." Laurel whispered in an assuring tone. "But, how about you make it in time for the New Year's celebration? Don't say no this time around!"

It became quiet suddenly and Laurel wondered if she had stretched her luck once again.

"Antonia, are you still there?" Laurel whispered, sparing a quick glance over her wrist watch. The wrist-watch she would soon put into her bag. You can never trust the streets or the people walking in it either!

"I am sorry for the break in transmission. Are you just going home?" Antonia, Laurel's big sister who had chased her dreams of becoming a scientist and made a name for herself, asked over the phone. Her tone was harsh.

Laurel shook her head as a shiver ran through her spine. Must be the cold, She thought and scanned the deserted street with her beady eyes.

The perks of working in a club...Yay! Laurel celebrated sarcastically, deciding to ignore her sister's question. She wasn't surprised to hear Antonia's disapproving tone.

Was anything she did right?

"I taught you better than this Laurel. How could you go against my orders? I chose to come here because of you, yet you disobey me!"

Laurel zoned out. It was during one of these rare calls that she zoned out. She admitted not being able to look for a better job but, she won't listen to her sister talk low and dirty of her while seated on a high throne. She has to do something. Fast.

"Cluck, Cluck, cluck, Antonia? I can't hear you..." She coughed into the phone. That was so fake... Laurel herself could feel the annoyance coupled with disappointment laced in her high pitched tone.

She hoped Antonia felt it too.

With that thought, she pressed the hang up button, feeling relieved after hearing the familiar hang-up beep. By the time she looked up from her screen, she was at the club.

The name Bounce was boldly and beautifully written in cursive handwriting on a board. It was stationed for all eyes to see at the top of the roof. Laurel smiled as she saw the little multicolored lights come on.

It was why she had chosen to work at the club, knowing she could spend all night staring at those lights which made her dizzy, but blended well with the night.

Even from a distance, you could see those welcoming lights. Call her cheesy, it is what it is.

Suddenly there was a black out. Puzzled, Laurel wondered about the few times she came into the club only to find it locked from the inside. Usually, there were no lights. She knew what to do. It seems today wasn't going to be an exception.

She swiped her phone screen and checked the last message she received from her co-worker. Matteo.

'Laurel darling, could you help me with my shift? I am feeling a little dizzy. Thank you!"

She could practically hear Matteo's high pitched voice, whispering ‘darling' into her ears. She placed her phone into her bag and made her way into the club. There was a path into the club no one knew except for close workers.

It was such a good thing that Laurel had a locker of her own. It was where she kept her bags, away from the hungry wolves that pretended to ask her for a date and ended up stripping her of her golden properties.

The tiny hall which contained 5 lockers and iron chairs attached to the floor was eerily quiet. It was the way she liked it. Unlike busy days when she couldn't even trust anyone and had to look over her shoulders every two seconds.

Laurel knew she was being overdramatic but blamed that on the fact that she has been alone most parts of her life and a 25 year old lady, living alone in the streets of New York was like handing a piece of yam to a goat.

She was the yam. Ever ripe and ready to be gobbled up by the men in the streets of New York.

Getting to her locker, she rummaged for her keys from the little Versace bag she had gotten as a birthday present from Matteo.

As soon as she turned the key into the locker, she heard a loud noise coming from the main-dance arena. It was what they called where the VIP's pay to have fun.

Laurel froze. 'What was that?" She noticed that not only was the Tiny Hall dark, it was also void of humans.

It was very unusual.

Laurel had been so caught up in her thoughts that she failed to grasp the condition of her environment. She had used her memory to find her locker in the dark! With that realization and trembling fingers, she picked up her emergency touch from the locker.

The touch light casted it's blinding lights around the Tiny Hall. What had Laurel expected to find? There was nothing but utter silence.

Eventually, the lights blinked on and Laurel inhaled sharply. It was satisfying to see those bright lights once again.

"I am being paranoid over nothing," Laurel whispered to herself while wearing her work apron and closing her locker. She placed her keys into the right pocket of her apron.

Time for work! She nodded to herself as if to convince herself that working in Bounce club was great.

She just wasn't expecting to find the feet of what looked like a man peeking from the corner. She froze.