Chapter 1 - THE FOUR GIRLS BENEATH MY TABLE
Four frightened little girls crawled beneath my table at a Chicago café and begged me to pretend I was their father. "Please, mister," the smallest whispered, gripping my pant leg as a powerful-looking stranger searched the room for them. They had no idea they'd chosen Alexander Hayes, the man Chicago's criminal underworld feared most. But when I discovered why they were hiding, I made a promise that could change all our lives—and the man they feared was already walking toward us.
My name is Alexander Hayes, and in Chicago, people rarely approached me without permission.
I controlled businesses, territory, information, and men who understood the consequences of betrayal.
Fear was something I'd learned to recognize immediately.
But that evening, the fear beneath my café table was unlike anything I'd encountered.
The first little girl appeared beside my shoes so quietly I nearly missed her.
Then came a second, a third, and finally a fourth.
All four wore matching navy coats and cream-colored hair ribbons.
One looked terrified, another furious, while the third struggled to hold back tears.
The smallest clutched my pant leg.
"Please," she whispered.
I lowered my teacup.
"Are you girls lost?"
Four heads shook.
"Our mommy's over there," the smallest answered, pointing toward the entrance.
I followed her finger.
A beautiful woman with dark auburn hair stood near the doorway, wearing an elegant charcoal-gray suit.
Two men stood beside her.
Although she appeared composed, her eyes moved desperately across the crowded café.
She was searching for her daughters.
"Shouldn't you be with your mother?" I asked gently.
"No!"
All four answered together.
Something about their immediate refusal unsettled me.
Then the smallest looked directly into my eyes.
"Can you pretend you're our daddy?"
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
I'd spent years watching grown men lie, threaten, and manipulate others for power.
But these children weren't asking for money or favors.
They wanted protection.
"Why do you need me to pretend?" I asked.
One girl swallowed nervously.
"Because Mr. Mercer says we need a daddy."
"But we don't want him," another whispered.
I glanced toward the two men beside their mother.
"Which one is Mr. Mercer?"
The angriest girl pointed toward a sharply dressed man standing close to the woman.
"Him."
"What did he do?"
"He told Mommy she was difficult," one girl explained.
Another lowered her voice.
"He said nobody respects women who can't keep a husband."
"He says our family's broken," the third added.
Then the smallest tightened her grip on my pants.
"And he said he could fix us."
I felt my expression harden.
"Has he hurt any of you?"
They shook their heads.
"Has he threatened you?"
This time, nobody answered immediately.
Finally, one whispered, "He told Mommy she'd marry him eventually, whether she wanted to or not."
Another added, "He says we should practice calling him Dad."
I stared toward Mercer.
I knew men like him.
Men who confused intimidation with authority and treated other people's lives as possessions.
At home, my son Ethan was the only person who knew the softer side of me.
After losing his mother years earlier, Ethan had become my reason to remember that family mattered more than power.
I'd seen fear in his eyes before.
And looking at these four little girls, I recognized that same desperate need for safety.
I slowly set my teacup down.
"Okay."
Four pairs of eyes widened.
"Okay what?" the smallest asked.
I leaned forward, keeping my voice gentle.
"Okay, sweetheart. I'll pretend to be your father."
Her expression brightened immediately.
For one beautiful second, all four seemed to relax.
Then I heard approaching footsteps.
Slow.
Deliberate.
I lifted my gaze.
Mr. Mercer was walking directly toward my table.
His eyes dropped toward the four girls.
May you like
Then he looked at me.
And the smile on his face disappeared.
