Chapter 6

I still couldn't believe Salvatore had forced me to do it yesterday. I didn't know if a part of me should be glad I had a job. It wasn't exactly a job cause I doubt Salvatore would be paying me a penny.

I know I've always wanted to live a normal life and having a job was part of it, but not this. I didn't plan to work at a club and most especially, I can't classify this as a normal life because I'm being forced to work and then return to bondage until the sun sets again.

The only thing I could manage to be happy about was the fact that I at least got to leave the house. Maybe this could open me to chances of getting to Salvatore.

I grab my phone from the bed and head outside. It was 11 pm already. I was expected to be at the club before 10 as a worker but I purposely delayed. I find peace going against Salvatore's orders.

"Bianca." I turn to Elle, standing at the front door. "Good luck." I furrow my brows at her making her chuckle. "Don't get into trouble," she warns but in a friendly tone.

"I'll try not to." That's damn sincere because nothing good comes from Salvatore.

"Call if you need help."

"She won't. That's our job as guards. Right, Bianca?" I look at Marco and roll my eyes at him. "Let's go. You're late." He emphasized the 'late'.

I give Elle one last look before walking towards the direction of the car. "Why did Salvatore have to choose you to take me there," I grumble.

"Because I'm good at my job. Do I annoy you?" He asks with a stupid smile like he doesn't already know what I feel towards him.

"You seem to like your job. A lot."

"I do." He says opening the passenger seat door for me.

"That's how you know a man without purpose." I open the back seat door and get him. I shut it and watch him as he clenches his teeth before shutting the door. He moves to the driver's seat and gets it.

"Sit in front next time. Don't make me look like your driver."

"It's your job, right Marco? Or do I annoy you?"

We look at each other through the rearview mirror and I smile at his annoyed face. He starts the engine and drives us to the club. We don't say a word to each other and I think that's the best thing we've done so far with each other.

The car stops before a skyscraper that looks way too quiet for a club. I frown not expecting a club to be this way.

Marco opens the car door, taking me out of my thoughts. "Thank you, gentleman," I say in a sarcastic tone as I get down. My head was raised in awe at the luxury of the building. The clerk at the front desk nods at Marco as he makes his way to the elevator. "Why so much process to get to the club."

Like he saw the confusion on my face he spoke, "That's because you're not going to be working in just any random club but a hotel club."

I raised my brows and folded my hands as I waited for the elevator to stop. Just when the elevator doors open, I'm welcomed with a blasting sound of music.

My eyes unconsciously widen as I walk into the mezzanine. I walked to stand by the railings as I looked down at the people dancing and having fun. I suddenly felt insecure with the polo and jeans I was putting on.

The club was already in full swing when we arrived. I stared at the club which looked foreign to me. Of course, I've never been here but working here would replace the days I was supposed to be here clubbing instead of being tied up to Salvatore's bed.

The music was way louder than it seemed before the elevator doors opened. The room was tight, and smelt of smoke, sweat, and alcohol. I would have choked if I wasn't already used to the lifestyle.

The club was big with LED neon ceiling lights intensifying the room. I follow Marco down the stairs and struggle past the crowd behind him as he heads to God knows where. I don't fail to notice the little gestures girls throw his way and it makes me frown in disbelief.

"I can't believe these girls think you're good-looking." I felt like scratching my throat. It felt awful saying the last part, but honestly speaking he wasn't bad, unlike the guard who was shot at the basement. He had good looks but character, Zero.

"They don't think. They know."

I scoff. "I wish I had come with my mirror," I mutter as we head to the bar.

"Where's the head waitress?" Marco asks the bartender while I stand there, still eyeing the crowded room.

"Uh, just hold on sir."

I look away from the crowd at Marco with raised brows. I was getting impatient and he seemed to be waiting for the head waitress that I heard him mention.

A tall blonde-headed lady walks out from nowhere to Marco. I thought she was blessed with heights until I saw the black heels she was putting on. I now took in her outfit. She was wearing a red knee-length pencil skirt with a hose underneath it and a black signature shirt tucked into her skirt. The red suit she topped her uniform with was of thin material and her name tag was pinned at the left side of her suit

"Good evening sir." I ignore her greeting to Marco and look away as Marco moves closer to her to mutter something in her ear. "Follow me."

No, ma'am? Marco should have at least waited for her to give me that respect before revealing I'd be working under her.

I walked past Marco and followed her into a small room that had a wardrobe and two cloth racks at the sides.

"I'm Edith and I'm the head waitress here." She says as she shuffles through the rack of clothes before taking out a hanger. I say nothing but hum and watch her find me a uniform. She gave the uniform she was holding a thorough look before handing it to me.

I raise the uniform to look at it with furrowed brows. I didn't expect it. I didn't expect to have exactly the kind of Edith's uniform since she's the head staff but I at least expected a knee-length skirt, if at all it be a skirt or pants as our uniform. What I was instead holding, was a mini skirt. A black short-sleeved office shirt with black thigh-high socks and a red mini skirt. A flare mini skirt that was prepared to show off my ass to drunken idiots.

"I can't wear this," I tell her, passing the uniform back to her but she doesn't take it.

"That's the uniform every waitress is expected to put on. You have to. Bianca, right?" She gave me a warm smile like I was enjoying this.

I roll my eyes at her and throw the uniform to the chair beside me before walking out of her to the life of the club. I stretch my head in search of Marco and I see him exactly where I had left him. He was sitting and doing 'his job'.

He stands the moment he sees me coming. "I can't wear that," I tell him the moment I get to him.

"Why? You know you have to." He made it obvious I don't have options.

"A mini skirt and serve men like..." I look at the crowd and see a wasted man trying to force a girl into talking to him. "...that?" I point for Marco to see. He looks away from the man and shrugs at me. I huffed. It was useless talking to him. "Where is Salvatore?"

"He doesn't run this club." I furrow my brow confused. "He owns it but doesn't run it. Nicolas does."

Great.

"Who? You mean that son of a bitch I tried killing?" They must enjoy tempting me.

"Shh. The people here don't need to know you're good with guns and vases." His last word made me laugh but I struggled against it.

"Take me to Nico then."

"He doesn't work at this hour."

I give him the look that I'm not buying his words then he huffs and starts walking. "Fine. Stay close."

I nod and follow him as he leads me up the stairs to Nico's office.