Ch. 1

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**WARNING!!!**

Mature Language and Themes. You may also not agree with many of my characters actions.
THIS STORY PROGRESSES RATHER FAST.
The things they do or say may or may not be related to how the mafia really works, I dont know but this is my story so I make the rules.
Also this book has Spanish in it, so I profusely apologize if the translations are not accurate.
Remember!!!
This is just a story.... my story.
You have been warned.

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- Isadora's POV -

"Isa!" Josie walks out of her room with a very small skirt, fishnet stockings and tube top on. She dresses like her personality puts out. Sassy, free spirited and crazy as hell. She walks out in front of me with a hand on an extended hip as she posed. "You ready?"

"I'm applying for a servers position, not a stripper." I said mulling over the outfit she gave me. Short shorts with material fringe at the cut off. Fishnets and her lucky tank top that was ripped at the cleavage. One sneeze and my nipple may pop out. I feel like a poor excuse stunt double character for Daisy in The Dukes of Hazzard.

"A servers position at a strip club sweetie. Might as well dress the part. You get good tips that way." She grinned and gave me a flirty wink, sauntering past me.

"How are you so sure I'll even get the job?"

"You're tiny, cute and because I already had a talk with the boss. We're under-staffed and need the help." She smiled grabbing her purse from kitchen counter. That sneaky little shit!

"Then why the hell did you let me get so nervous for an interview that was never going to happen!? And why dress me like this?" I shouted. Ugh! Sometimes she makes me want to cut her.

"You're adorable when you're flustered." She giggled and shook her ass out the door. "Hurry up or we're gonna be late! Boss hates it when you're late." I rolled my eyes and grabbed my things before locking the door behind me.

I get it.... and working at a strip club wasn't my first choice but, when you're down on your luck, you take pretty much anything you can get. I grew up poor and in many different foster homes. When I met Josie, I was eighteen. The orphanages kick you out when you become of age. I understand the reason but why be so damn heartless about it. Josie took me in and has been my best friend ever since. I practically owe her my life. She showed me the ropes, how to survive on the street and has finally agreed to let me get a job. We buckled up and backed out of the driveway.

"So what's your pseudo name going to be?" She asked while keeping her eyes on the road.

"My what?"

"You're about to have your first shift at a strip club. You need to have a fake name to protect your identity in case of perverts." She shook her head as if it was common knowledge everyone should know.

"If you had told me a week ago while I was applying for this job, I would have been better prepared." I retorted.

"How about Kitty?" She wiggled and squealed, almost too excited.

"Why Kitty?" I asked unenthusiastic. She crinkled her nose and made a kissy face at me.

"Cause you're just as cute as kitties." She used her baby voice and bopped me on the nose with her index finger.

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