Friday
9-2-1932
Just past 3

I sighed, wiping a stray hair that had decided to fall into my face away. I looked up at my stepbrother, Christopher. Our relationship had always been complicated. Its not like you ask for some extra brother or sister. Believing my friends, Chris was handsome. I looked closely at his face, gladly I didn't see it. I reminded myself to listen closely as the waitress put down to cups of coffee.
"So its simple. You remember Jackson right?"
I nodded, it was so unclear where this was going.
"Well, he has this crazy rich cousin. He's like in mafia and stuff. And he wants to take his enemy down."
I tilted my head, warming my hands up by placing my hands on the side of the coffee mug.
"And you're going to lure him in."
My eyes shot up to meet his ones. "Have you entirely lost you mind!"
Christopher just smirked. "Em! Don't whine. You needed money, I got you a job and this is what I get in return."
I sighed, pinching my nose bridge. "How much?"
Christopher smirked and seemed to celebrate his victory by taking a big chug of his coffee. He swallowed, "$5.000. And if they like you, or like this work. Maybe, just maybe. You can be the next Femme Fatale."
I again sighed, now running a hand through my hair. "Okay, calm down cowboy. I'm not going to be like that." I said, giving him a serious expression.
Christopher smirked in reply. "We'll see, little one."

———————————————————————
Monday
9-5
Morning

The other side of New York had never been so far. I kicked against a small rock as my heels clicked over the pavement. I glanced a last look at the note that was delivered to my house.
What am I getting myself into?
Money, Emily. You want to eat dinner next week?
I looked around, this should be it. Maybe it was all a hoax, and Chris would just pop out of nowhere laughing that unholy smirk off his face.
I stood there, at a corner, it was one of those corners you only saw from one side. Simply, because you never went to that other side. Something just always held you back. This is exactly why I didn't like going out for drinks. I always felt so funerable.
Mafia is always late.
I hear Christopher's voice in my head as soon as I think about leaving. I look down at my red heels and wiggle them impatiently.

"The note?" A low voice suddenly spoke, scaring the God out of me.
"Nice to meet you too." Did I just- I was rude to mafia? This is going to be my end.
"Feisty, I like it." The blonde haired male purred. He bit his lip, eyeing me up and down, his eyes locking at my hips and breasts.
I coughed.
He looked back up at my eyes, smiling softly. He seemed nice.
I sighed and spoke, "Where are we going?"
I didn't want to stay here, I didn't want to be seen with somebody from the mafia. Imagine if somebody saw me, oh Lord. What if my mother saw me?!
"Are you coming?" The warm voice spoke. I mentally hit myself in the head. Could I for once and for all not get lost in my thoughts. Or at least stop overthinking? "Y-Yeah." I softl said, waling behind him. He had a very distinct smell. It was so fimiliar but also so different than what I had known. Coffee beans and gunpowder. Identifying the scent suddenly reminded me of my job. I worked as a waitress in Mary's Mugs, just past 31st avenue.

I sat in a chair, it was made of a soft kind of leather. Fake leather, my hands told me. Mom was a designer for lower case woman, she taught me a lot about fabrics and organic materials. I folded my legs, the dress I was wearing krept up in the slightest. Cold air hitting my exposed knee made me realize the door had swung open.
"Emily Cox?" A not yet familiar male voice said. He had this aura that only repeated one thing. "Have sex with me, I'm bad, rich but very kind to you if I love you."
I nodded, looking up at him. "You must be Aidan." I said, I didn't want to seem weak. I wanted to make it seem like I knew what I was doing. And that I wasn't scared of some kind of mafia boy. Of course I was, but I couldn't let it show. If I would get in danger because of this, then I have all the right to be scared. I told myself.

We had sat there for a while now, and with we I mean: Aiden, myself, and eight big men who seemed to be his guards. Every now and then a girl walked in, pouring me new tea and Aidan new whiskey. I know, whiskey in the morning. I guess that's a mafia thing.

"So, all you have to do is. Get into that lobby, wear something red. Flirt with him, push him to the bar, flirt more, kiss him maybe- I don't know how your girly shit works."
I chuckled and nodded, he reminded me of my little brother, Thom. He was just like him, just a little less evil.
"Then the real fun begins." A grossly perfect smirk was plastered on his face. "You take him to either room. Tease him, give him a drink and drug it. Drug it good. Then, just go on about your night. End in bed, no sex of course, I mean, if you want- No sex." He laughed, I laughed. It was comforting, somebody who seemed so intimidating who wasn't made me smile. It's like fireworks, they shock you, but when they explode they leave you amazed.

"Drug him, fall asleep next to him and wait for my men to wake you up. If you call the reception we'll be there in a second."

"Easy money, right?"