She Used Sign Language at Christmas – The Mafia Boss’s Mother Chose Her as the Wife of Her Only Son

Описание: She Used Sign Language at Christmas – The Mafia Boss’s Mother Chose Her as the Wife of Her Only Son

"Have a good night, ma'am," the waitress signed in silence. And the most powerful woman in Chicago's underworld decided this exhausted girl would be the perfect wife for her mafia boss son. It all started at eleven p.m. on Christmas Eve when Olivia Carter took a last minute job as a temp waitress at The Obsidian, the most exclusive nightclub in Chicago and the hidden heart of the Valentino empire. The pay was triple the usual rate. The venue was dripping with wealth. And she desperately needed money for her eight year old brother Noah's emergency cochlear implant surgery. What no one mentioned was that the uniform included six inch heels, borrowed shoes from a coworker, shoes clearly designed by someone who wanted to watch the world burn one blister at a time. Size seven, the floor manager said, shoving the torture devices into her hands. That's all we got. Olivia wore a size eight. They'll stretch, she lied. They did not. This was her third shift of the day. She had started at four a.m. at a coffee shop across town, brewing lattes for people who had never known hunger. By noon, she was scrubbing toilets in a downtown office building, her knees raw against cold tiles. And now, at eleven p.m., she was here, in a club where a single bottle of champagne cost more than her monthly rent, serving people who looked right through her as if she were made of glass. By midnight, when the club filled with guests in designer suits and diamonds that could feed Noah for a decade, Olivia could no longer feel her feet. By one a.m., she had developed a walk that could only be described as a wounded penguin trying to maintain dignity. By two a.m., she was seriously considering ripping the shoes off and pretending that barefoot service was some kind of avant garde aesthetic choice. Her stomach had been empty for thirty six hours because she had given her last granola bar, expired by two weeks, to Noah before leaving. Her electricity was three days from being cut off. Her landlord had slipped an eviction notice under her door that morning, the red letters screaming "FINAL WARNING" like a death sentence. In her pocket, she had exactly seventeen dollars and eighty three cents, enough for milk and bread if she skipped meals for another week. But she held on.

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