You didn't choose this life, but you were stubborn enough not to give up. When you turned 18, you moved out of your parents' house and lived on your own in a small kitchenette, thinking you could go to college and work, but it wasn't that easy.

You were always tired; you had no time for anything. In the morning, you baked the cupcakes you sold at college. In the afternoon, you studied, and as soon as you got out of college, you went to the restaurant and worked as a waitress until one a.m. Then the cycle repeated itself.

People didn't respect you in the restaurant; they treated you like you were invisible. And the men — God, they were disgusting. One night, there was a dinner for important, rich guys. The restaurant owner had chosen only the best staff for this special dinner. There were only these men in the restaurant. You saw the guns at the door of the dining room. From what you heard from some of the staff, it was a dinner between two mafia families, a dinner of peace, so no guns.

You came in with a bottle of whiskey and started serving the man at the head of the table. He was very handsome, to say the least. His suit was tailored, so you could see he was very strong. As soon as you finished serving him, you started serving the man to his right. This guy was older, like 70 years old. His eyes were mischievous; he tried to see into your cleavage, making you uncomfortable.

"Stop bothering the waitress." the man at the end of the table said. It didn't sound like a request, more like an order.