The Mob Bosss Revenge

FREMA:

Turning the sign of the restaurant to closed, I couldn't help but sigh in relief.

"Let's go, Riley, I could really use some sleep right now." I said, rubbing my forehead as I felt a headache kicking in.

"You're such a fucking sloth sometimes," Riley grunted, and I ignored her, heading for my BMW.

Feeling tired, I tossed the key to my best friend, flashing her an apologetic smile as she glared at me. Soon enough, she got to her house and I had to drive my lazy butt home.

"I don't get you sometimes, bitch," Riley started and I raised a brow. "Your dad owns a fucking company earning over millions in one fucking month, and your mom runs half of their parents' company. How the hell are you working?" She asked for probably the hundredth time and I groaned.

"Can we talk about this tomorrow? I need sleep like a baby needs her lollipop." I said, opening the door and signalling her to get out. She rolled her eyes at me and got out anyway, swaying her thin hips just too spite me.

I chuckled softly at her childishness and turned on the engine, waving at her twelve-year-old brother before driving away.

My name is Fremantle Michaelson. My parents are rich asses that should be able to foot any bill, if I asked. But being the independent 19 year old I was, I rarely asked. Instead I got a job to take care of some bills. Besides, I liked making my own money. I don't have to explain to myself what it's for. It's quite refreshing to be independent, kinda.

This is the very beginning of my story.

                               ——

"Arsen, you shouldn't be here!" I scream-whispered, feeling angry that he had to come to where I work with his stupid friends!

"Come on, baby sis, you know I just want to check up on you." He said, flashing one of his many cheeky grins. I rolled my eyes and stormed over to the table I was supposed to serve, not bothering to look at their faces as I spoke,

"Welcome to Kimmy Palace," I started, tapping my feet lightly against the ground-- a habit that I showed whenever I was pissed. "Can I take your orders?" I asked, finally lifting my head to look at them.

"I'd have loved to have you, but my stomach would most likely prefer some food. I'll have some steak and chips." The blue-eyed man, probably in his early twenties said to me. I mentally rolled my eyes and wrote down on my writing pad, shifting my gaze to the next man and freezing immediately.

"I'll have coffee. Black." His deep voice came and I felt myself turn crimson red just by the sound of his voice. I haven't even seen his face, since he had all his attention on the cellphone he was using, but I had no doubt that it would be richly glorious.

Nodding, I turned away, walking over to the table.

"One black coffee, and steak and chips." I said all at once and Riley raised a brow.

"What happened to you girl? Who did you serve?" She asked and I glared at her.

"You're so awfully nosey, Riley." I said, sighing. She grinned widely.

"What are best friends for?" She said, wiggling her eyebrows and I flushed a light red.

"I'm not talking about it, Riley. Now get me the freaking orders." I said and she pouted, handing me the orders. I took them from her and walked over to their table again.

"Your orders, Sir.." I trailed off and blue eyes spoke,

"Call me Liam, and my friend here is Eron." He nudged Eron harshly and he looked-- glared at him, before turning to me and my eyes widened as I lowered my head, cursing myself for being so easily flushed.

"My eyes are up here, Princesa." His voice came and I bit my bottom lip shyly, looking up.