Exposed to the CEO Behind the Mafia Mask

Gemma’s POV

Monday crawled by with excruciating slowness despite my bone-deep exhaustion from working until the boutique closed yesterday. My body screamed for rest, but my empty bank account had other plans. This retail job at Exquisite Boutique was slowly draining my soul, even with its decent commissions from the wealthy clientele who frequented our upscale location in Thorne family territory. New out of college with my business degree, I was trapped by my lack of connections and desperate need for survival money.

What made every shift unbearable was sharing workspace with Vanessa after I caught her on her knees servicing my ex-boyfriend Nick in our storage room. The image still burned in my mind like battery acid. She had turned the other girls against me, poisoning the atmosphere until every workday felt like navigating a field of hidden knives.

That cursed night haunted my every waking moment. I had only stepped out for a quick food run since Mom was away on business. Nick, that bottom-feeder street thug, sometimes lurked around closing time, and I had been naive enough to trust him completely. When I returned early, Sabrina and Lia practically tackled me, frantically trying to block my path to the back room. Their obvious terror should have been my warning.

I shoved past them and slammed on the storage room lights. There was Nick with his dirty fingers twisted in Vanessa’s bleached hair while she worked him with her mouth like some back-alley whore. My stomach nearly turned inside out. They were so lost in their pathetic betrayal that several heartbeats passed before they realized I was watching.

I began a slow, sarcastic clap. "Bravo, you two could make decent cash in the kind of videos they sell behind convenience stores." Then I walked out without another word, leaving my purse behind because I couldn’t stomach breathing the same air as them for one more second.

Now Nick and Vanessa paraded their sordid relationship like a weapon designed specifically to slice me open. Every public grope and whispered conversation felt calculated to maximize my humiliation.

I positioned myself near the entrance when two striking women paused at our window display. The sapphire dress I had arranged there this morning was already working its magic. I straightened my shoulders and approached with practiced professionalism.

"Good evening, ladies. Welcome to Exquisite Boutique. I’m Gemma. What can I help you find tonight?" My smile felt authentic for the first time in days.

"Hi Gemma, I’m Ivy and this is Zoe." The brunette radiated a warmth that immediately put me at ease, though something in her confident bearing suggested she was accustomed to getting what she wanted. "That blue dress in the window caught my attention. Would it be possible to try it on?"

"Absolutely, it just arrived this morning and it’s absolutely stunning. Please, make yourselves comfortable while I get it for you." I guided them to our luxurious fitting area, already mentally selecting accessories that would complete the look flawlessly.

While Ivy changed, Zoe mentioned they were new to the neighborhood and Ivy needed something impressive for meeting her new employer. When Ivy emerged from the dressing room, even I gasped softly. The dress clung to her curves like liquid midnight, transforming her from beautiful to absolutely devastating.

"You look incredible," I whispered, meaning every syllable. The sale practically closed itself as she added matching heels and delicate undergarments to her purchase.

"We’ll definitely return, Gemma. You have impeccable taste." Ivy smiled warmly as I handed over their elegantly wrapped packages along with my business card.

After they departed, I grabbed my purse and announced to my less-than-beloved coworkers that I was taking my break. Grandmother’s birthday was approaching, and since neither of us could visit the other this year due to the dangerous state of the neighborhood, I needed to find the perfect gift for Mom to deliver.

The religious goods store tucked away in the mall’s forgotten corner carried unique handcrafted items that couldn’t be found elsewhere. A delicate door scapular with an engraved prayer immediately caught my attention. The elderly saleswoman was explaining its spiritual significance when a commanding voice cut through our conversation.

"I need something for my mother." The man barely lifted his eyes from his phone, addressing the saleswoman as if I were invisible furniture.

"She’s currently helping me," I said coolly, irritation flaring instantly at his arrogance.

"Look, I don’t have all day to wander around shopping like some people apparently do. She’s the only worker here." His tone dripped condescension as he finally glanced up from his device.

My breath caught despite my anger. He was devastatingly handsome in that dangerous way that made sensible women make foolish choices. Tall and powerfully built, with emerald eyes and golden hair that looked like it had been crafted by angels. His perfectly tailored suit probably cost more than my yearly rent. Everything about him screamed money, power, and the kind of arrogance that came from never hearing the word no.

"Excuse me?" I couldn’t mask my disbelief at his audacity.

"She helps me quickly, then returns to your little conversation. Simple logic." He spoke as if the solution was obvious to anyone possessing basic intelligence.

"Even if I had unlimited time, which you’ve rudely assumed, she was already assisting me when you strutted in here acting like you own the entire building. That’s called basic human decency." I maintained steady eye contact, refusing to be intimidated by his imposing presence or obvious wealth.

"I’m not rude, I’m efficient. You’re browsing casually while I have actual responsibilities. If she had helped me first, I’d be gone and you could resume your chat." His jaw tightened with obvious frustration at being challenged.

"Wow, you’re completely clueless about treating people with respect." I turned to the saleswoman, whose discomfort was written across her face. "I’ll take the scapular, please wrap it beautifully."

She nodded gratefully and hurried toward the register while he stared at us with incredulous fury.

"You’re seriously going to make me wait?" His voice carried a dangerous edge that probably intimidated most people into submission.

"Keep playing with your phone and stop behaving like a spoiled brat. She’ll finish with me in a moment, then you can purchase whatever guilt offering you had in mind." I threw him a triumphant look over my shoulder. "Maybe I’ll even leave a special message for your poor mother."

At the counter, a display of prayer cards gave me a wickedly petty idea. I selected one with particular care, paid for my items, and wrote a brief note on the accompanying envelope. After requesting that the saleswoman give it to the arrogant stranger after I left, I walked away feeling absolutely victorious.

He was going to lose his mind when he read what I had written for his unfortunate mother.