"Don't expect a nice mafioso... at least, not at the beginning."

(Luize)

I wake up early, as usual. I do my morning hygiene and head to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. The routine keeps me steady—perhaps because, since my father died, it's just me and my mother left in this world.

Luize

"Good morning, Mom. Did you sleep well?"

Mother

"Good morning, daughter. I did, thank God."

Luize

My mother is very ill. Cancer has been consuming her day after day, and with each new dawn, the fear of losing her tightens my chest. She's all I have... my safe harbor, my strength, my reason. Still, I carry an unwavering faith that she will overcome this damned disease.

"Mom, I'm leaving now. If you need anything, just call me, okay? I'll come running."

I kiss her head tenderly and head to work with a heavy heart, but determined.

It's been almost a month since I started this job. I'm a waitress in a sophisticated restaurant, frequented by high society—powerful, elegant men and women with cold eyes and full pockets. A world completely distant from mine.

I finished high school with effort, and I always dreamed of going to college for Fashion. But plans changed. My mother's illness became my priority. I had to put my dreams on hold and face reality: work hard to keep the house, pay for her medicine, and take care of the most important woman in my life.

The medications she takes are extremely expensive. Sometimes I wonder how we've made it this far, but I don't complain. I work non-stop, without a second thought. Because taking care of her... is taking care of my greatest treasure.

I arrive at the restaurant a little before my shift. I like to walk there slowly, enjoying the morning silence before the city's chaos fully awakens. The air still has that light freshness, and the streets seem less heavy at this time.

As soon as I enter through the back door, I greet my colleagues with a discreet nod. I don't make friends easily. Not out of dislike, but because I've learned to keep my world to myself.

I go straight to the locker room, put on my uniform, and tie my hair in a firm bun. I glance quickly in the mirror: faint dark circles, clean skin, a tired but resilient gaze. I take a deep breath.

Another day.

In the dining room, I arrange the tables attentively. Perfectly aligned tablecloths, cutlery in place, glasses without a single smudge. I quickly learned the importance of details there. Everything needs to be impeccable. Luxury allows no flaws.

Clara appears beside me, holding a notepad.

"Good morning, Lu" she says with a soft smile.

"Good morning, Clara. Everything alright?"

"Yes... just tired. It feels like the days are longer lately."

"Or maybe we're the ones who are more exhausted" I reply, trying to smile.

I like Clara. She's one of the few who doesn't look down on me, who understands what it's like to fight for something beyond oneself. We talk a little, but that little is sincere.

The hours pass slowly, yet intensely. I serve tables, take orders, clean glasses, excuse myself to people who never respond. Some customers barely look up at me, as if I were part of the furniture. Others are overly arrogant, but I smile all the same. Swallowing my pride has become a habit. And my reason is greater than any disdain.

When noon arrives, the bustle increases. Orders pile up, footsteps quicken, and the heat from the kitchen invades the dining room. The place's elegance is deceptive. Behind every refined detail, there is sweat, rushing, and pressure.

During the brief lunch break, I sit in the furthest corner of the pantry, as always. I open my small lunchbox: rice, beans, a piece of grilled chicken, and salad. Simple, but made with love. I prepared it myself, before leaving home, while my mother was still asleep.

I take out my phone and send a quick message.

Luize:

Mom, did you take your medicine? Have you had lunch? Call me if you need anything, okay? I love you.

I wait for a reply while I chew slowly, but it doesn't come immediately. I put my phone back in my pocket with a slight tightness in my chest. I try not to imagine a thousand things. I try to take a deep breath and trust that everything is fine.

I return to work shortly after, cleaning a glass with extreme care. My mind, however, is far away. It's at home. It's with her.

And so the days pass. One after another, like chapters in a hastily written book. My world is small, but laden with responsibility. Life asked for courage from me too soon… and all I can do is keep going.

Keep going for her.

Luize

The routine is already suffocating me, but what really drains my energy is the constant presence of Katherine — my boss. Arrogant, overbearing, and addicted to wielding power, she seems to take pleasure in humiliating each one of us.

Unfortunately, we need the salary. And where we live, opportunities don't come by so easily.

We swallow our pride. We accept it silently. Because at the end of the month, the rent and bills don't wait.

Vintchenzo

I wake up to the sweet smell of cheap perfume permeating my silk sheets. Beside me, one of the women I usually use to satisfy my momentary desire is already dressing, without even looking at me.

She knows there's no room for affection here. I don't give affection. I don't make promises. I just use, pay, and turn the page.

That's how I am. Cold. Direct. No time for cheap sentimentality.

I get up and go to the bathroom. The cold water wakes me, but it doesn't purify me.

There's no redemption for those who carry blood as an inheritance.

Minutes later, I'm in the elevator, heading down to the garage. My black Bugatti awaits me like an extension of my power. Behind the wheel, I head towards the family company — a clean facade for the mafia's dirty business.

The electronics import business is just an elegant smokescreen for what we really are.

And me? I'm the president. The most feared name among us. The direct heir of the Montes lineage.

As soon as I step into the company headquarters, I come face to face with him: my father.

"Good morning, son" said Antony.

"Good morning, father" I replied, not hiding the discouragement in my voice. "What are you doing here?"

"I just stopped by to remind you that today is the council meeting."

I rolled my eyes and let out an impatient sigh.

"If they think they're going to tell me how to run my life, they're sorely mistaken."

"You know very well, Vintchenzo… In the mafia, everyone has duties. You are the Don now. You need to build a family, ensure the continuation of our lineage. Either you find a wife… or I will choose one for you."

"Don't give me that litany about tradition. More than anyone, you know how dedicated I am to this. But marry by imposition? No. I won't accept that."

"Marriage, my son, is not a punishment. It's just another move on the chessboard. Simple, practical, necessary."

"Don't worry. If it's a wedding you want, father… then you'll have one."

"I hope so. Well, I'm off. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay, father. See you."

He walked away, and I stood there, staring into space for a few seconds.

Marriage...

What this father still doesn't understand is that if he wants a bride, I will choose the one who suits me.

And she will be just another piece in my game.

Luize

After another morning enduring Katherine's scathing comments, I take a deep breath and force myself to smile at the customers. The restaurant is full, and the rush keeps me from thinking too much.

But inside... everything tightens.

"Table three, Luize! Hurry up!" Katherine yells from the counter, her voice shrill.

I swallow hard. I grab my notepad and proceed with the tray balanced in my hands. The customer looks me up and down, rolling her eyes as if I were invisible. I smile anyway.

I'm used to it.

During my break, I sit in the back of the restaurant, near the cardboard boxes. It's the only place I can get five minutes of peace.

My chest tightens. I don't answer immediately. I just lean my head against the wall and let the exhaustion overcome me for a few seconds.

I need another job. I need money.

I need to get out of this life where survival is the only plan.

Vintchenzo

Back in my office, I observe the city from the top of the company building. My eyes scan the buildings as if each one were mine. And, in a way, they are.

I command. I decide.

And no one challenges me.

"Don Vintchenzo" calls Raul, my personal bodyguard, knocking on the door. "The route report has arrived."

I nod, taking the papers.

"Any movement from the rivals?" I ask without looking away.

"Just rumors. Nothing concrete yet."

I let out a soft sigh. Everything under control. For now.

"Keep the men on alert. If anyone tries to cross our routes, I want to know before they even breathe wrong."

"Yes, sir."

As soon as he leaves, I lean back in my leather chair and open the drawer. Inside, an old, faded photograph rests like a shadow from the past.

My mother. The only woman who knew me completely.

I close the drawer forcefully.

Feelings weaken.

And I can't allow myself that.

Vintchenzo

At night, the mansion where I live is silent. My men roam the corridors. Outside, the gates are locked like a luxury prison.

In the meeting room, my father waits for me with a glass of whiskey.

"It's decided, Vintchenzo. The council wants a marriage. An alliance with another strong family."

I roll my eyes.

"I already said I'm taking care of it."

"It's not just about you. It's about protecting the empire we've built."

"I am the empire, father."

He stares at me in silence. I know that deep down, he's afraid I'll lose myself like so many before me. But that won't happen.

I don't fall in love.

I command.

And the next piece to enter this game… will follow my rules.

(Luize)

I spent the whole day serving customers.

My feet are in pure agony — sore, swollen, and begging for rest.

As soon as my shift ended, I went straight to the restroom to get ready to leave. All I wanted was a shower and my bed.

But, since not everything is a bed of roses, Katherine suddenly burst into the restroom, with that bossy attitude of hers, saying I'd have to stay a bit longer.

According to her, a very demanding person was coming for dinner, who insisted on exclusive service.

In other words, I'll have to put up with another stuck-up rich kid who thinks that people who work are at their beck and call whenever they please.

It made me so angry!

With so many waitresses in the restaurant, did she have to pick me?

But it's okay...

I can't complain. I need the job, and getting fired now is out of the question.

The good part is I'll earn some extra money.

I take a deep breath, compose myself, put my uniform back on, and return to the dining room, ready to serve this so-called mysterious client.

(Vinthezo)

I leave the company and head straight to the restaurant where I usually eat. It's one of my favorites — and it belongs to one of my little friends, which makes the experience even more interesting.

Later, I'll have to face the mafia council.

They're pressuring me to get married, one way or another.

I still haven't decided how I'm going to resolve this situation... but one thing is certain: nobody bosses me around.

When I arrive at the restaurant, I realize it's been closed just for me.

I like it that way. Crowded places irritate me.

As soon as I enter, Katherine comes swaying towards me, with that sly little smile on her lips.

Whenever I can, I take care of her.

But it's when the waitress appears that something really catches my attention.

She's beautiful. She has intense, striking blue eyes. Approximately 5'7" tall, with a perfectly sculpted body.

She approaches elegantly, speaks softly and politely, asking what I'd like to order.

I answer without taking my eyes off her: cotoletta alla Milanese and a Malbec to accompany it.

She discreetly takes the order and walks away.

But something about her stayed with me: the gentle shyness in her voice and that angelic gaze, which, for some reason, stirred something in me.