Claimed by the Mafia Don-Chapter 43: I Quit!

ZOE DEAN’S POV

I went to bed that night still thinking about the stranger — Damien, he said his name was. There was something about him that clung to my thoughts like smoke. But I brushed it off before sleep pulled me under. What were the odds I’d ever see him again? Probably none.

The next morning came too soon. My alarm buzzed like it was angry at me, and I rolled out of bed with that heavy, restless feeling that comes after too little sleep. A shower didn’t help much, but at least it woke me up enough to make it through the day.

When I reached work, the first thing I saw was Fredda standing outside the back exit. Her golden hair was a tangled mess. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, and she looked like she’d just finished arguing with someone.

I frowned, stepping closer. "Fredda? What’s with that face?"

She looked up at me sharply and then her expression softened. I was taken aback for a moment. "Hey girl, I wasn’t expecting you so early."

I sighed because indeed I needed more sleep. "I just had to come early. Anyway, that wasn’t the answer to my question. What’s with that face?"

She looked like she didn’t want to answer for a moment before she said in an angry tone, "I’ve given Helen a taste of her own medicine."

Her tone was flat, but her eyes still sparked with anger. I blinked, confused. I didn’t know what she mean by that, so I asked, "Wait... what do you mean?"

"I mean I told her off." Her voice rose slightly. "I’m done watching that woman treat us like dirt."

I was shocked for a moment but I quickly composed. I didn’t even need to ask because I already knew Helen must’ve lost her mind last night when she found out I’d left early. "You fought with her, didn’t you?"

"I had to."

"Fredda..." I pinched the bridge of my nose. "You shouldn’t have. I was the one who left. She should’ve yelled at me, not you."

"Well, I couldn’t just stand there while she went off," she said stubbornly. "Someone had to say something."

I couldn’t help a small smile. That was so like her — loyal to a fault. "Still," I murmured, "thank you."

She gave a small nod, her anger softening just a little.

Inside, the air in the bar felt tense — like everyone had been holding their breath since morning. Before I could even hang up my bag, one of my coworkers rushed over.

"Zoe, Helen’s been waiting for you in her office. She’s been pacing since she came in."

Of course she has.

I straightened my shirt, exhaled, and made my way down the narrow corridor. The closer I got, the more I could feel my heart picking up speed.

When I finally stepped into her office, Helen was pacing exactly as described. She turned the moment she heard the door shut behind me.

"Good morning," I said quietly.

Her glare could have cut glass. "Zoe, where were you yesterday?"

My stomach dropped, but I kept my voice even. "I wasn’t feeling well, so I—"

"So you what?" she snapped, cutting me off. Her voice rose sharply. "You left my business because you were ill?"

I blinked, stunned by the venom in her tone. "Helen, I—"

"Shut the hell up, Zoe," she hissed, her eyes narrowing. "You’re not the first person to get sick."

I froze. "Excuse me?"

"The fact that you had your little episode doesn’t give you the right to abandon my bar."

My jaw tightened. "What do you mean by that?"

"You heard me," she said, folding her arms.

Something in me finally snapped. I’d had enough of this woman — her attitude, her fake superiority, her heart made of ice.

"Are you serious right now?" I said, raising my voice. "Helen, are you serious?"

Her lips curved into a cold smile. "Dead serious."

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Her eyes widened. "Are you talking to me?"

I gave a dry laugh. "Who else would I be talking to, Helen? You act like you’re the only one whose problems matter. What’s your issue, huh? Who the hell hurt you?"

"Watch your tone!" she snapped, but I didn’t stop.

"No, you watch yours," I fired back. "Last month I got abducted right here — in this damn bar. One of your customers dragged me out and what did you do? Nothing! You didn’t call. You didn’t check on me. You didn’t even bother to pretend you cared."

Her eyes flickered, but she stayed silent.

"You just sat here," I went on bitterly, "eating, drinking, and acting like we’re all disposable to you."

"Zoe, are you out of your mind?"

I gave a hollow laugh. "Yeah, maybe I am. Because I’m still here, still working for you like an idiot. But not anymore."

Her expression faltered. "You’re quitting?"

"I’m done," I said, voice shaking with anger. "You’re mean, you’re heartless, and you need help, Helen. Real help. Because you’re so full of hate you can’t even see the people who are trying to keep your business alive."

I tore the ID from around my neck, dropped it onto her desk, and stepped back. "I quit."

Her mouth opened, but I was already turning away.

"Zoe!" she shouted after me. "Zoe, get back here!"

I didn’t stop. I didn’t even look back.

By the time I stepped outside, my hands were trembling — not from fear, but from the kind of anger that sits deep in your bones. I should’ve quit a long time ago. I should’ve walked out the day she stopped seeing me as human.

I was done. Done with her, done with this place, done with everything.

Nero was God-knows-where, leaving me to wonder if he’d ever show up again. And now Helen had decided to make my life miserable too.

I was tired — of pretending, of fighting, of trying.

I quit.

For real this time.