Captured by the Mafia Boss.

Amaya's POV. 

“Goodbye, come again next time.” I called after the final customer, following after them to flip the sign on the door from open to closed. I was wiping down the counter top when my boss, came into view. 

“Here you go, Amaya,” she said and handed me a bundle of cash. 

I dropped the napkin I was using and collectdd the money to count it, my brow furrowing even deeper the more I counted. 

“But it's not complete. It's short 70 dollars.” I said. 

“Sorry honey, but things came up. You'll get it all on your next pay day,” she shrugged.” Lock up after me, okay? I'll be back late.” She called over her shoulder as she left the building. 

Clenchi I shoved the bills into my bag and continued to wipe the counter top furiously. I honestly didn't know why I still worked at this coffee shop. The place was very beautiful, and I loved my coworkers, but the pay wasn't worth it at all, and this was the second week my boss was cutting my wages. 

I didn't plan on taking a shift at my second job today since I thought I'd be getting paid my actual salary, but now I just had to, if wanted to pay the rent for the tiny apartment I shared with my sister, that was beginning to get overdue. Just as I finished locking up the shop, my phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and frowned before picking up. 

“Miss Kingston, about the rent. I hope you're paying up soon.” The voice of my landlord, a sleazy old man who rubbed me the wrong way constantly, sounded from over the phone. 

“You'll get it by tomorrow.” I huffed. 

“No need to take that tone, dear girl. I've told you what you can do so you won't have to pay rent at all.” He said in that slimy tone of his. 

“And I've told you, Mr. Roger, that's not happening. Good night.” I hung up and tossed the phone into my bag, disgust evident on my face. Thankfully, I needed a little more money before I could move us out of that apartment to a better one. I stopped a cab and gave him the address to my second job, ignoring the eyebrow the cab driver raised at me. 

In about ten minutes, we were there. The Raven, the club where I worked, was one of the biggest nightclubs in the city. There were rumors that the owner had connections to the mafia, but what did I care? The patrons were rich and they paid very well, and that was all I needed. 

I paid the cab drivers and took the back entrance reserved for workers, nodding at the bouncer stationed there who recognised me and let me through. I followed the narrow hallways until I got to my cubicle, where all my costumes and wigs were exactly the way I left them. 

If you hasn't guessed it yet, I worked as a stripper here. I had always loved to dance, and since this was a way to make money while doing what I loved, I grabbed it with both hands. 

“Zephyr, my dear! I thought you weren't coming in today!” I heard the voice of Paul, my manger before he even walked into the room. 

“Change of plans,” I smiled, giving him a hug as he entered. 

“Well, good thing you did, dear. The club is gonna be having a very special guest tonight, and if he's impressed, he might even ask for you privately.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

I didn't usually take private dances, but I wasn't averse to them as they paid extremely well. 

“I'll do my best.” I said, securing my fiery red wig to my head with invisible tape. 

“That's my girl. I'll let you be now.” He said before kissing me on the cheek and leaving me alone. 

I quickly put on chosen costume for the day, a pink sparkly two piece, and did my makeup, fixing the whole thing with waterproof setting spray before pulling on my favourite high heeled pleaser platform boots. I gave myself a moment to fully embrace my character as Zephyr, my stage name, before walking through the side door and onto the stage. 

On that stage, it was like all my worries disappeared. The colorful lights obscured my views of the crowd, but I knew very well the expressions of awe and desire that immediately came on their faces. There was a reason I was so in demand for private dances at the club, and that was because I was very good at what I did. I loved to dance, and I showed it in every tilt of my head, every movement ai made around me pole, every drag of my hands over my hips. 

I bent low to tease the crowd, and the dollar bills were already being thrown and tucked into my costume. They consisted of mostly twenties and fifties, but I spied the occasional hundred in there too. Satisfied that I would be able to complete the rent payment after this shift, I let myself go, allowing the music take over me. 

I felt his gaze on me before I saw him. It settled over my skin like warm honey, causing a prickling sensation that was intense, but not uncomfortable. I twisted my body around the pole, and locked my gaze with a pair of green eyes so bright, they shined like gemstones in the dark. I couldn't see the rest of his face clearly due to the shadows, but those green eyes watched my every movement, tracking the movement of my body across the stage. The song then changed to something slower and more sensual, and I found myself trying my hardest to look good, to make sure that pair of eyes never left me. The music ended and I went off the stage to rest a bit before going up again. 

Just as I reached my cubicle, Paul, my manager, appeared out of nowhere, a wide smile plastered on his face. 

“You did it, girl!” He exclaimed. 

“Did what?” I asked, confused. 

“The important guest I told you about! Girl, you were so good up there, my man couldn't take his eyes off you. And he requested a private dance!” He explained excitedly. 

Could the important guest have been the owner of those eyes. I allowed my curiosity to take over me, wanting to know more as I said to Paul, “I'll do it.”

I wasn't even thinking about the money I would make as Paul led me upstairs to the location of the private rooms. He took me to the one at the very end, which seemed bigger and more luxurious than the other rooms, offering a direct view of the club below while perfectly providing privacy for whoever was within. 

“She's here, sir.” I heard Paul say from within, going silent for a while before calling out to me, “Zephyr.”

I took that as my cue to enter, appreciating the interior of the booth, dark, plush velvet and leather furnishings, with soft string lights adding a gentle glow. I turned to the largest chair, and my heart stopped for a moment when I saw who occupied it. 

In the chair sat who must have been the most perfect man to ever walk the surface of the earth, a face I once knew like the back of my hand. 

A face complete with piercing green eyes, which were currently staring back at me in shock.