Marie sat in the hall for the longest time, looking as if she was waiting for a doctor to tell her she had cancer. She didn't want to be there at all but she had no choice. After all, You don't want to piss off the mafia...but apparently she somehow pulled that off too. She didn't remember much of the incident that the man called her here about but then again she was also trying to forget about it. It was the reason she was jobless and on the verge of getting kicked out of her apartment. She had been working as a waitress at once of the most famous cafe's in the city, she was clumsy on occasion but most days she did fine. However, it seemed that the day she was one a clumsy streak was also the day the manager was having a very important guest coming in for lunch. She had been working the drink area for the day and when the guest came in she had been asked to bring out the french brew coffee... And the owner didn't even sell french brew on the menu. This guest must have been important, and after figuring out how to even make the damned coffee, she made her way out onto the dinning room floor. The next moments were a terrible blur but she knew the basics. As she approached the table another waitress smacked her on her way past the table. The last coffee cup on her try flew, the one meant for the owner, and splattered all over the guests suit coat and pants. The other four men who seemed to have also been in the group, and all in less fancy suits, seemed to freeze with concern, though for who she did not know. From there the owner quickly started to apologize for her clumsiness, seeing her a glare so deadly that she was certain she'd be beaten if that was still allowed. Marie eventually got her voice back after having been sent to gather any cloth possible to clean him up and offered to pick up the dry cleaning tab personally. Luckily, or sadly in her eyes, the owner had her nearly dragged away before she could get an answer out of him. That was the last time she saw him, only to lose her job that night and get kicked out quite literally on her behind, she was only given the name of the man whom she wronged somehow in a small prayer from a coworker who mumbled something along the lines that she die peacefully. With only a loud warning to return her uniform after it was washed, she had no choice but to walk all the way home. That was two weeks ago. Now here she was, in that man's damned house after being picked up on the street by some of his lackeys. They had not forced her to go, but basically said that if she didn't go now, he'd come find her personally...And she didn't need to have that ruining her job search. So she went, not knowing what would come of her in the end...accept that whatever happened, she would probably being owing him somehow.