kidnapped by the mafia

Violet Anderson, a young artist, lived in LA with her best friend, Tracy Derwin.

She was living a calm life and although she studied art, she was working in a small restaurant .

Vincenzo Mercanti, a 26 years old bachelor, king of the mafia in both, USA and Italy, cold hearted, merciless killer that lived a wealthy life.

One night, two incidents changed both their lives, when the mafia don wanted a little brunette to be his.

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"Who is she?" I asked my best man, Giovanni.

"I don't know. I came here with you man." He replied rolling his eyes.

"I want her." I said.

"What?" He turned abruptly and looked at me.

"Bring her to me Gio or I'll kill you myself." I shot him a cold glare.

"Okay."

: Violet

"V! Table number 5." My best friend Tracy said.

"Okay I'll take care of it." I smiled at her taking my pen and the menu.

"Thank you. I'm exhausted." She sighed and sat on the stool.

"Take a break Tracy and eat something you've been running around since the morning." She smiled at me gratefully and went to the kitchen.

I walked towards table number 5. A family formed of the mother, the father and two kids were chatting happily. I smiled at them.

"Hello. I'm Violet, your waitress. Are you ready to order?" I asked them. The little girl smiled at me and looked at her mother waiting for her to order.

"Hello Violet. Yes we're ready. I'd like to take two kids meals, I want the burger to be chicken. For us we'd like to order two plates of chicken escalope with fries. We want some wings too please. Thank you." The mother smiled handing me their menues. I wrote down their order immediately.

"Okay. It will be ready in 20 minutes."

I walked back to the kitchen and gave the order to chef Jimmy.

"Hello Violet." He greeted me and took the order.

"Hello Jimmy. Did Tracy eat?" I asked him.

"Yes she ate a sandwich. She's waiting at the cashier for you." I nodded and left to see Tracy.

She was sitting there lost in her mind. I can see the sadness on her face and my heart hurts for her. Tracy's mom died 2 weeks ago. But Tracy couldn't see her mother before her death because they weren't talking.

"How's work?" I asked her.

"Good. It's keeping me from thinking about mom."

"I'm here when you need to talk Tracy." I hugged her.

"I know." She smiled.

"The people at table number 5 are big fans of chicken." I laughed.

"Really? Reminds me of someone." She smirked.

"Hey I'm not like them." I rolled my eyes playfully at her. She gave me a knowing look.

"Last time you went on a date, the guy complained to me about how much you ordered chicken. He said the restaurant's chicken are all in your tummy." She laughed and I glared at her.

"He's so