Chapter 2 - The Waitress Who Refused to Move
The police arrived twelve minutes later.
By then, Vincent’s men had already removed every illegal firearm from the dining room.
The official story was simple.
A violent intruder had attacked the restaurant.
A courageous employee had intervened.
No one mentioned contracts, assassins, or Vincent Caruso’s enemies.
Sarah sat in the kitchen while a paramedic examined her ribs.
“You should go to the hospital,” he said.
“No.”
“You may have a fracture.”
“I’ve had fractured ribs.”
The paramedic paused.
“That isn’t reassuring.”
Vincent stood in the doorway.
“Leave us.”
The paramedic looked at Sarah.
She nodded.
When they were alone, Vincent closed the door.
Sarah pressed an ice pack beneath her eye.
“You were cruel to me over a fork,” she said. “Now you want privacy?”
“You lied to me.”
“I applied for a job.”
“You pretended to be helpless.”
“I pretended to be inexperienced.”
“You dropped silverware every night.”
“Not every night.”
“Twice on Monday.”
“The tray was badly balanced.”
Vincent stared at her.
Despite the pain, she almost smiled.
He pulled out a chair and sat across from her.
“Roman Keller is a military-trained contract killer.”
“I know.”
“You told him you didn’t.”
“I lied.”
“You seem comfortable doing that.”
“I’m alive because of it.”
Vincent leaned forward.
“How do you know him?”
Sarah lowered the ice pack.
“Not personally.”
“He recognized you.”
“He recognized what I was trained to do.”
“And what was that?”
“Protect people.”
Vincent gave a humorless laugh.
“You chose the wrong profession. People like me are usually the reason others need protection.”
“I didn’t choose you.”
“Then why were you working at my restaurant table?”
“I needed a job.”
“I own part of this building.”
“I know.”
“You researched me.”
“Yes.”
Vincent’s eyes hardened.
“Were you sent to watch me?”
“No.”
“To kill me?”
“If I wanted you dead, I would have let Roman finish.”
That answer silenced him.
Sarah stood carefully.
Vincent noticed her left hand shake once before she closed it into a fist.
“You’re afraid now,” he said.
“The danger is over.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It does to people like me.”
“Who are people like you?”
Sarah looked toward the kitchen windows.
“People trained to function during chaos and fall apart afterward.”
Vincent studied her face.
“What is your real name?”
“Sarah Hale.”
“Roman said otherwise.”
“Roman says things to create doubt.”
“He succeeded.”
“I can see that.”
Vincent rose.
“You will come with me.”
“No.”
“It wasn’t a request.”
Sarah met his eyes.
“That tone probably works on your employees and politicians. It won’t work on me.”
“Someone sent Keller to kill me. Keller recognized you. Until I understand why, you are connected to this.”
“I saved your life.”
“And I am grateful.”
“You don’t sound grateful.”
“Gratitude and suspicion can exist together.”
Sarah picked up her coat.
Vincent blocked the door.
She looked at him calmly.
“Move.”
The word carried the same quiet warning she had given Roman.
Vincent stepped aside.
Not because he was afraid.
Because he understood she was not bluffing.
Sarah walked into the dining room.
Marcus sat on a chair with his arm in a sling.
“Sarah,” he called. “Wait.”
She stopped.
Marcus looked ashamed.
“I put you at table seven because the other servers refused. They said Mr. Caruso would make you cry.”
“He almost did.”
Vincent frowned.
Marcus continued.
“I’m sorry.”
Sarah touched his uninjured shoulder.
“You fired at a man twice your size. We both made questionable decisions tonight.”
Tony was being loaded onto a stretcher.
He lifted his head.
“My wife is going to kill me.”
“You’re alive,” Sarah said.
“She might still kill me.”
Sarah smiled faintly.
Then she headed toward the destroyed entrance.
Vincent followed.
Outside, rain covered the sidewalk.
A black sedan waited at the curb.
“Where do you live?” he asked.
“I can take the subway.”
“It is after midnight.”
“I’ve survived worse things than public transportation.”
“Roman may be watching.”
Sarah stopped.
That possibility changed her expression.
Vincent saw it.
“You know he’ll return,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Then get in the car.”
She hesitated.
“Your driver takes me home. Nothing else.”
“Agreed.”
During the ride, Vincent sat across from her.
For five minutes, neither spoke.
Finally, he said, “Why did you stand in front of me?”
Sarah looked out at the rain.
“You were defenseless.”
“I have ordered men killed.”
“I assumed.”
“You protected me anyway.”
“At that moment, you were an unarmed man about to be murdered.”
“You make it sound simple.”
“It was.”
Vincent looked at her damaged uniform.
“People usually decide whether I deserve saving before they help me.”
“That is not how protection works.”
The sedan stopped outside a narrow apartment building.
Sarah reached for the door.
Vincent said, “You are fired.”
She turned slowly.
His expression remained unreadable.
“You cannot return to The Glass House while Keller is free.”
“I need the money.”
“I will pay your wages.”
“I don’t accept charity.”
“Then consider it payment for tonight.”
“I didn’t save you for money.”
“I know.”
That answer surprised her.
Vincent continued.
“Be at the Caruso estate tomorrow at nine.”
“I’m not working for you.”
“I want your professional opinion.”
“My professional opinion is that your security is terrible.”
“That is why I need it.”
Sarah opened the door.
“What happens when I refuse?”
“I send a car anyway.”
“And if I don’t get in?”
“The driver comes back at ten.”
She stared at him.
“You’re impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Sarah stepped out.
Before closing the door, she looked back.
“Roman Keller did not come through the front doors because he was dramatic.”
“Why did he?”
“He wanted everyone watching the entrance.”
Vincent’s face tightened.
Sarah continued.
“That means someone else inside the restaurant was supposed to act while the room was distracted.”
The rain ran down her face.
“You don’t just have an enemy outside your organization, Mr. Caruso.”
May you like
She closed the door.
“You have one sitting at your table.”
