“TAKE OFF YOUR APRON. YOU'RE FIRED!”

“TAKE OFF YOUR APRON. YOU'RE FIRED!” My manager humiliated me in front of an entire restaurant because I spent $12.40 of my own money feeding an elderly woman. But when I confronted the silent stranger watching from the corner, I had no idea he was Chicago's most feared mafia boss, or that one sentence would make him order the restaurant doors locked. My name is Sophie Carter. I'm twenty-eight, broke, and apparently terrible at keeping my mouth shut when someone mistreats an innocent person. Until that Thursday, I'd spent almost two years waiting tables at The Linden Room, where a single glass of wine cost more than my weekly groceries. I had $800 saved, rent due in nine days, a Honda barely holding together, and a mother who depended on me for medication. Then Mrs. Ellis walked in. She was eighty-two, sweet as could be, and had accidentally left her wallet in a taxi. When her $12.40 bill arrived, her hands began trembling. "Oh, honey," she whispered. "I don't have my money." "It's okay," I told her. "Lunch is on me." I paid the bill myself. Unfortunately, my manager saw everything. "SOPHIE!" Daniel Mercer stormed across the dining room. "Did you just pay for her food?" "She forgot her wallet." "THREE TIMES! You've done this three times!" "Daniel, the first customer was diabetic. The second woman's card got declined." "I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR SOB STORIES!" Every conversation stopped. Mrs. Ellis covered her face and started crying. That was when Daniel pointed at my apron. "Take it off. You're fired." My stomach dropped. I needed that job desperately. But looking at Mrs. Ellis, I knew I couldn't apologize for helping her. I untied my apron. "Okay." "Oh, sweetheart," she sobbed. "I've ruined everything." I knelt beside her. "Mrs. Ellis, yesterday I searched my entire apartment for my glasses." She sniffled. "They were on my head." A tiny laugh escaped her. "See? We're both doing great." Daniel slammed his hand against the counter. "GET OUT!" I picked up my purse. "Gladly. The breadsticks weren't worth the emotional damage anyway." Someone snorted. Then I noticed him. A tall man in a charcoal suit sat alone in the corner, watching me with unsettling gray eyes. "Enjoy the entertainment?" I asked. He set down his coffee. "Not particularly." "Then why stare?" He studied me. "Was that woman worth losing your livelihood?" Something inside me snapped. "She's eighty-two. She was frightened and embarrassed. And you're sitting there judging whether twelve dollars was worth her dignity?" His jaw tightened. "You're unemployed now." "Maybe," I said. "But I can look myself in the mirror." I stepped closer. "And if you're powerful enough to stop cruelty but choose to watch it happen, then what exactly is that power worth?" His expression changed. Behind me, Daniel made a strangled sound. "Sophie," he whispered. "That's Adrien Voss." The name meant nothing to me. But every wealthy businessman in the restaurant suddenly looked terrified. Adrien slowly rose from his chair. He glanced at Mrs. Ellis. Then at my discarded apron. Finally, he turned toward Daniel. His voice was barely above a whisper. "Lock the front door." A man near the entrance immediately turned the key. And when Adrien looked back at me, he said something that made my blood run cold. "Miss Carter, there's something you need to know about the woman you just defended..."

"She's my mother."

For a moment, I thought I'd misheard him.

I looked at Mrs. Ellis, who was still sitting with her hands folded in her lap. Then I looked at Adrien Voss, a man who appeared to be in his late thirties and whose expensive suit probably cost more than my car.

"Your mother?"

He nodded.

Mrs. Ellis sighed. "Adrian, darling, I told you not to make a scene."

"It's Adrien, Mother."

"That's what I said."

I stared at them.

The woman who had nearly cried over twelve dollars and forty cents was the mother of a man who could apparently silence an entire restaurant by standing up.

"Wait," I said. "You have money?"

Mrs. Ellis looked mildly offended.

"Of course I have money, dear. I just didn't have my wallet."

"Then why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you didn't ask."

I closed my eyes.

Of all the days to get fired.

Adrien looked toward the locked entrance.

"Open the door again," he told his security man. "Nobody is being detained. I only wanted the manager to stop leaving before we finished this conversation."

The guard immediately unlocked it.

I exhaled.

"Good," I muttered. "Because I was about to add kidnapping to my list of complaints."

Mrs. Ellis laughed.

Adrien did not.

Instead, he turned toward Daniel Mercer.

"How long has she worked here?"

Daniel swallowed. "Almost two years, Mr. Voss."

"Any disciplinary warnings?"

"Well, she's been—"

"Documented warnings."

Daniel hesitated.

"No."

"Any complaints from customers?"

"No, sir."

Adrien looked at my discarded apron.

"Then explain why you publicly dismissed a reliable employee for paying a customer's bill with her own money."

Daniel's face reddened.

"It's against our policy."

Adrien raised an eyebrow.

"Show me the policy."

Daniel looked toward his office.

"I'd have to find it."

"Please do."

Daniel disappeared so quickly that his shoes squeaked against the polished floor.

I crossed my arms.

"Is this where you tell me you own the restaurant?"

Adrien looked at me.

"No."

"Then why does he look like he's about to swallow his own tongue?"

"Because he knows who owns the building."

I waited.

Adrien sighed.

"I do."

"Of course you do."

Mrs. Ellis patted my hand.

"He's actually quite nice once you get past the intimidating face."

I looked at Adrien.

He looked back.

"Does that happen often?" I asked.

"What?"

"People having to get past your face."

His mouth twitched.

Before he could answer, Daniel returned carrying a binder.

Adrien examined the relevant page.

Then handed it to me.

There was no rule against paying for another person's meal.

There was, however, a provision requiring managers to treat employees respectfully and document disciplinary action.

I read it twice.

Then looked at Daniel.

"Well, that's awkward."

Mrs. Ellis chuckled.

Adrien turned to the manager.

"Miss Carter's termination appears unjustified. You will preserve the employment records, including today's security footage. My attorney will contact the restaurant's ownership regarding your conduct."

Daniel began protesting.

Adrien lifted one hand.

"Enough."

I should have felt victorious.

Instead, I felt exhausted.

Because none of this changed the fact that my rent was due.

My mother's prescription needed refilling.

And I had just become the center of a scene involving a man everyone in Chicago apparently feared.

Adrien turned back to me.

"Miss Carter, I'd like to offer you a job."

I blinked.

"Doing what?"