Shadows In Durango

Chapter 12

*****Sofia's POV*****

As the minutes ticked by, the anticipation of my first shift grew. The VIP lounge was pristine and ready, the glasses gleaming under the soft ambient light. The bar was stocked, and I felt a wave of confidence wash over me as I arranged everything in its place.

I could do this....

The first customers trickled in a group of four older men, their faces weathered and their voices gruff. They sauntered into the VIP lounge with an air of casual authority, their laughter echoing off the walls. They glanced at me briefly as they approached the bar, their eyes sharp but not unfriendly.

"Hey there, sweetheart, you're new!" one of them said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "We'll have four whiskeys, neat." He concludes, as I smile and make a move.

I nodded, my hands moving with practiced ease as I prepared their drinks - praying for things to go smoothly.

The familiar motions of pouring the amber liquid, the clink of ice in the glass- it all felt natural. The men watched me in silence, their conversation picking up as they returned to their seats, drinks in hand. I breathed a sigh of relief. If all my customers were like this, the night might not be so bad after all.

The hours slipped by in a steady rhythm as I glanced down stairs to see the dancers swaying their hips on the poles. It seemed that they didn't strip, only danced, which for some reason made the fact that I was working here feel less illegal... The VIP lounge saw a handful of other patrons, each group coming and going with little fanfare. I managed to keep up with the orders, my confidence growing with each successful transaction. I even found a moment to practice a few cocktail recipes, adding my own flair to the drinks.

The lull in activity gave me a chance to catch my breath and prepare for the next wave - as my little tip jar started to collect some notes for me to take home which made me smile.

I was wiping down the bar when I heard the sound of laughter- loud and boisterous-carrying up the stairs. My heart skipped a beat as the unmistakable thumping of heavy footsteps approached the VIP lounge. This was the loudest group so far... which caused goosebumps to rise in anticipation.

Then they appeared.

Daryl, Vincent, and a large group of guys, most of whom I hadn't seen at school before, filling the entrance to the balcony. They were a rowdy bunch, their presence commanding the room as they piled into the VIP area. Daryl's eyes sparkled with mischief, while Vincent exuded his usual air of confident arrogance. The sight of them almost knocked the air from my lungs as I ducked down behind the bar to catch my breath.

oblivious to my presence as I pretended to be wiping an imaginary spillage from the

were they even allowed in here? In VIP too at

a table by the edge of the balcony, as they dispersed to their seats,

see me and thought

job! I have to serve them and

Daryl had told me not to buy and deliver his lunch, so I feared his wrath

VIP lounge had increased significantly with their arrival, the air thick with laughter and boisterous conversation. Despite my initial panic, I found myself slipping back into the rhythm of

to serve drinks, my nerves started to settle, and I found myself getting into the rhythm of the job. However, I couldn't shake the anxiety that gnawed at

hoped they wouldn't notice me. Maybe they'd be too engrossed in their conversations to pay any attention to the bartender... perhaps Vincent and Daryl would even stay away from the bar,

was not on

more confident and secure, I glanced up and my eyes instantly locked with Vincent's - his daggers piercing holes through

almost furious glare. He rose from his seat abruptly, the force of his movement causing his chair to scrape loudly

displeasure as I was shocked that he even cared to remember my name since I

flush with a mix of fear and embarrassment. "Vincent?" I stammered, trying

His voice was louder now, drawing the attention of

deep in conversation with another guy, looked up at the

got up to make his way over, his bewilderment evident as I

and he leaned over the bar, glaring at me with an intensity that made me want to shrink away and disappear. "Why are you working in my bar?" he demanded to know, his voice cold and unforgiving. "Your bar?"

hear him

"I own this place. So tell me, what are you

explain, my voice shaking. "He said he needed some help, and I

momentarily softened only slightly, but his voice remained harsh. "This is no place for a seventeen-year-old

my brother, and we need the money." It was a lie, but I hoped it would be enough to make him reconsider and not question further why I lived alone... Vincent's eyes narrowed, his posture rigid as he considered my words. For a moment, I thought he might