SCAR

sexy owner of The Rock

The restaurant was full of hustle and bustle as I stepped inside. Looking around I could see my employees working their asses off to make every penny worth it.

The dimly lit, posh restaurant in a ran down neighborhood was something rare, and locals took it for their full advantage. Coming with their families, their spouses, their girlfriends, or escorts. The atmosphere was as light as a feather.

The peaceful place had the most delicious food for all the Italian food lovers out there. LO SCOGLIO. “The rock.” was the most exquisite place to eat and was truly the finest restaurant in the area. I always loved to observe what was around me.

Every comforting smile the employees had on their faces and the soft Italian music playing in the background, always made me feel relaxed. As I breathed in the aroma of the Italian food, it reminded me of how hungry I was.

The uniquely textured walls produced a smooth yet flowing look. The viny plants that clasped to the walls ever so freely gave it a natural appearance. The marble-tiled floor beneath me gave the restaurant a clean yet warm appearance. Even though this was all temporary, yet I tried my best to feel good about the smiles on others' faces.

Even though no one knew me at all, yet they stood firm and planned to work with me. I employed the ones I thought were really in need of a job and could help their families.

Maybe I was searching for an opportunity where I try to at least help someone who had a family like I had once but no one gave my mother a job when she needed one the most.

All throughout my life, I did multiple jobs to cater to my mom's and sister's needs. To build a better life for them. To share responsibilities with my mom.

"Jack!"

"Jack, man!"

I was snapped out of my reverie as a hand patted my shoulder and brought me back to reality.

Ron stood beside me and looked at me with a confused expression, his experienced eyes trying to find something, something in my eyes and I vehemently casted my eyes sideways. Not wanting him to come to any conclusions.

My fake passport, ID card, and driving license, and restaurant business license were all with another name. Jack Torres. Someone I faked as myself.

"Jack Stella has gone on maternity leave and we urgently need a waitress," Ron stated worried and I nodded.

"The place is full and more are coming." He took a glance outside and surely cars were stopping in front of the restaurant. "We are running out of servers." He announced and I was quick to bind an apron across my waist.

"I'll take the charge, Ron. You go and help the chef." I muttered, picking up the plates from the counter.

Although the loud chatters surrounded the place yet my soul seemed as quietened and melancholic. The chaos the world was providing was peaceful as well as crippling me to no end.

Ron was a retired chef but still wanted to work and lived a walking distance away. Stella was a single mother of one pretty boy and pregnant and in her eighth month of pregnancy. She needed a job and I couldn't say no to her when she almost gave up on her life and killed herself, putting the life of her unborn child at risk.

Another chef Brena was a proud mother of a martyred son and wanted to take up a job to stop herself from sulking all day and night.

Another couple of servers were college students and did part time here. They were more than welcome as I knew it was always hard for them.

Although, I looked tough and rocky from the outside but I had a heart that yearned to see people at peace and not in distress.

My rivalry was from God and not the world. We all lusted after money and I was no saint. I gave up on God when my mother gave upon us.

I asked Benny to put a sign up for a much-needed waitress outside and wait till tomorrow for someone to come in and take up the job. I knew thousands who needed to work and light up their tables.

Getting to work, I indulged myself in it fully, lest the quiet chaos settles in my brain.

—

It was a long night and like all the entrepreneurs I didn't look up to weekends, for more customers, but I dreaded weekends, it meant more people and more eyes to judge.

As I placed the plate of grilled chicken and fruit salad in front of a feminine figure I couldn't help but took a glimpse of her face.

She was indeed a walking siren and had that killer look attached to her lips. Those savoury lips tempted me and I didn't want anything more but to have them wrapped around my c**k at the end of the night, in the changing room at the corner.

She gave me a sly wink and I knew I had my dessert reserved for me for tonight. It was always like this, women running after me and who was I to deny a good f**k?

I knew I was a hot topic in the area. The sexy owner of The Rock was the name entitled to me by the horny lady community.

As much as I loved the attention, it brought me an insane amount of self-loathing, knowing I was just wasting myself on others.

It irked me knowing I had no constant existence of someone in my miserable life. And I always ended up with these thoughts in another lose p***y.

Had I been committed, I would have to give up my freedom, freedom to f**k any woman, anywhere I pleased.

But I always had my demands straight. My place was always and forever a hard limit for the women.

I never, never ever brought a woman home and as if written in my fate, I was highly unaware of the fact that it was soon going to change when a certain someone will step in my life and rock my world.