The Waitress Is Actually The Mafia Queen

ke

rophobic chute of stainless

burnt coffee and

trembling-not from fear, but from a

retrieved he

them gently

ven deigned

t machine was

Espresso Martini.

ender muttered, pouring a perfectly goo

d. She wants you

M

the 'incompeten

sharp, stead

d walk

e phone and call m

rmed by men who would happily peel the s

ed a rescue; I

't operate on

d on cold,

shop alliance, I needed to demonst

to hang himself

ed the

was stea

own the VI

giving way to walls lined with velvet that

s waitin

't at he

in the bottleneck of the hallwa

was

ushing herself off the wa

I said, keeping my voice

't take

eyes droppe

llus on my thumb from year

ticed it once. He called

st sneer

me, don't you?" she whispere

oing my job

pping closer. "I see it. You think just because you

eache

, expecting her t

lapped the bot

med to f

elain cu

h-black liquid spl

t hit th

ted my

d blinding-a white-hot brandi

tray slipping

a violent crash that echo

ady turning an a

an to rise b

st, my breath hit

n la

cruel, ja

roken shards. "You really are clumsy. I should t

ed up

ners of my eyes, but I r

ose," I said, my voic

in until I could smell her expensive perfume. "Th

nning around

the scene

e shatter

en standin

utching my s

ened?" Mar

coiling in a performance of victimhood. "She tried

ked a

dropped t

e blister

k

d to

rned his

" Mark said, bowing his head

voice low and dan

t even l

ice devoid of warmth. "And get out of her

in my hand throbbing in

pain was sh

he be

w ache spreading

as a m

protect the fa

me to the wolves t

" I said, my

Mark bark

and wal

dn't

dn't

the steel sp

was a menta

the di

or th

who had allowed a sn