Taken By The Mafia Lord

Chapter 7: Your Date Is A Psychopath

“Arianna, are you just coming to work by this time?!” hollered their boss, an annoying forty-five-year-old man with a receding hairline.

“Of course not, sir,” Arianna replied busying herself on the counter. Their boss was a strange man and a typical traditionalist. If one looked him in the eyes while he barked orders, he would claim you’re challenging his authority. Either way, if you avoided his gaze as well, he would claim you’re looking down on him.

But then, there’s more than one way to skin a cat, so each of his employees adapted diverse ways to deal with the man’s tantrums which was how they had survived so far. However, to Arianna, if she could survive her uncle and his family of witches, there was nothing on earth she couldn’t survive.

“What do you mean of course not?” he sneered, “This is the first time I’m setting my eyes on you,”

“Sir,” Arianna said calmly, “I’ve been inside putting away the order – boxes, and boxes of supplies and ingredients,” she lied through her teeth.

As a professional liar, she added, “If you don’t believe me, you can ask Mimi,” she tipped her head in the direction of her friend who returned with a tray she used to serve a customer.

“Yes, sir, Arianna had been here, just busy,” Mimi supported her best friend.

.....

The boss was about grumbling his disbelief, knowing Mimi was her best friend and she would naturally support her when another employee passed them saying, “It’s true. I saw her earlier,” and walked away. But not without winking at Arianna when the boss wasn’t looking.

Arianna smiled at Julian, the guy who helped her out. In here, they were like family and always had each other’s back knowing their boss was a difficult man.

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Truthfully, Arianna was just five minutes late to work, nor was she a habitual offender, the boss wouldn’t hear of it. All he cared about was his gains not even the welfare of his employees – the man loved money so much it was almost an obsession.

Unable to find her guilty of the accusation, their boss huffed and strode away. Mimi and Arianna burst into stifled laughter yet composed themselves immediately knowing their boss would be watching them; he was like a fly that lingered and bothered.

Located in the city’s bustling commercial district, stands their sleek café. The sculpted walls, along with a coffee bean-shaped chandelier hangs above the bar. The ceiling extends past the fa?ade, forming a covered area for outdoor seating, and installed a circular barista station clad in black marble. Hence, for those not grabbing their morning cup on their way to work, the shop has both intimate and open seating areas.

Arianna had not chosen to work here because she loved to make coffee but because she wanted to make money – she guessed that was the similarity she shared with her boss. Money lovers.

She needed money for a lot of things, including surviving in her uncle’s place. She doesn’t eat their food – afraid that they might poison her – and if she does eat, it must be made by Susan. She doesn’t trust anyone in that household except the woman. Susan had been a motherly figure to her since the day she began to live in that hell hole.

“Hey, hey!” Mimi rushed over to her after returning from serving another table, “Guess what?!”

“You found your heartthrob,” Arianna replied without looking up, busy with her beans.

Mimi gasped dramatically, “How did you know?”

“Because we’ve had this exact conversation over a hundred times already,”

“Really?”

Arianna sighed, shaking her head sympathetically. Mimi might be hef friend but she was a hopeless romantic.

Their store wasn’t exactly the best out there but it got a decent inflow of customers, including the handsome guys who were daily nourishment to Mimi’s love-struck soul. But then, even with the hundreds of handsome guys she dated, Mimi was still single – none of them seem to hold her interest for long.

“Mimi, leave the poor customer alone and for your well-being as well,” She advised her.

“Fine,” Mimi pouted her lips with a look of disappointment. She said, “He wants two cups of black coffee,”

“Two cups of black coffee?” Arianna’s brows furrowed in contemplation, “Who in their right mind likes blank coffee?” she blurted out.

Mimi sighed, her arm propped up on the counter, “I think it’s manly of him,”

“You idiot, haven’t you read that study?”

Mimi frowned at her, “Read what study ?”

“You can tell a lot about someone by the way they take their coffee,” Arianna said seriously.

“What nonsense are you spurting?” Mimi thought she must be pulling her leg once again.

Arianna pulled her closer, saying, “A study of 500 people showed that those who enjoyed bitter flavors over sweet flavors were more likely to reveal signs of psychopathy, narcissism, and everyday sadism. The study was tested upon participant’s ratings on foods that are either sweet, salty, sour, or bitter, ”

“Huh?” Mimi’s brain was swirling. She didn’t even understand a thing Arianna said. Moreover, that cute face she saw can’t be a bad man.

“In one word, if that target is your date and he chooses a black coffee over an indulgent, caffeinated, creamy coffee, you may want to grab your latte and sneak out the backdoor. Word on the street is, your date is a psychopath,”

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