Chapter 1 - THE TWELVE-DOLLAR LUNCH
"Take off your apron. You're fired!"
My manager humiliated me in front of an entire Chicago restaurant because I spent $12.40 of my own money buying lunch for an elderly woman. Minutes later, I confronted a mysterious stranger watching from the corner, unaware he was Chicago's most feared Mafia boss. But when I challenged him to use his power to help someone, he stood up and gave an order that silenced the entire restaurant.
My name is Sophie Carter, and at twenty-eight, I was barely keeping my life together.
For almost two years, I'd worked at The Linden Room, an upscale Chicago restaurant where wealthy businessmen spent more on appetizers than I earned in an hour. My savings totaled $800, my eleven-year-old Honda needed new brakes, and rent was due in nine days.
My mother's insurance wouldn't cover all her medication, either.
Losing my job wasn't something I could afford.
But that Thursday afternoon, Mrs. Ellis, an eighty-two-year-old regular, discovered she'd left her wallet in a taxi.
Her trembling hands searched her purse repeatedly while nearby customers watched impatiently. When tears filled her eyes, I quietly paid her $12.40 bill.
Unfortunately, my manager, Daniel Mercer, noticed.
"Did you just pay for that woman's meal?"
"Yes, Daniel. She forgot her wallet."
"This is the third time you've done something like this!"
"The first customer was diabetic and needed food. The second woman's card was declined."
"I DON'T CARE!"
The restaurant fell silent.
Mrs. Ellis lowered her head, visibly embarrassed.
"Please," she whispered. "I'll bring the money tomorrow."
I gently squeezed her shoulder.
"You don't owe anyone an apology."
Daniel pointed at my apron.
"Take it off. You're fired."
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
My mother's prescriptions, my overdue bills, and the frighteningly small balance in my bank account flashed through my mind. Then I looked at Mrs. Ellis, whose hands were shaking around her napkin.
Slowly, I untied my apron.
"Okay."
"Oh, sweetheart," she cried. "I'm so sorry."
I crouched beside her chair.
"Mrs. Ellis, last Tuesday I spent twenty minutes searching for my phone while I was talking on it."
She blinked before laughing through her tears.
"See?" I whispered. "You're doing better than me."
Daniel crossed his arms.
"Your final paycheck will be ready Friday."
"Wonderful. I was afraid you'd pay me in leftover breadsticks."
Someone nearby laughed.
"GET OUT!" Daniel shouted.
I grabbed my worn leather purse and headed toward the entrance.
That's when I noticed him.
A tall, broad-shouldered stranger sat alone in a shadowed corner, wearing an expensive black suit and a silver watch. His dark eyes followed me over the rim of his coffee cup.
"Enjoying the show?" I asked.
"No."
"Could've fooled me."
He studied me without smiling.
"Was it worth losing your job over twelve dollars?"
Something inside me snapped.
"That woman is eighty-two years old. She was embarrassed and frightened, and everyone watched her get humiliated over a sandwich."
"And now you're unemployed."
"Yes. But at least I can sleep tonight knowing I didn't make an elderly woman cry."
His expression shifted slightly.
I stepped closer.
"If you've got enough power to help someone and choose to sit there watching instead, what good is your power?"
His coffee cup stopped halfway to his mouth.
Behind me, Daniel suddenly whispered, "Miss Carter, do you have any idea who that is?"
"Someone who needed to hear the truth."
Daniel's face drained of color.
"That's Adrian Voss."
I'd heard that name whispered across Chicago, usually followed by frightened silence.
Adrian slowly rose from his chair.
Then he looked directly at Daniel.
"Lock the front door."
My stomach tightened as the restaurant fell completely silent.
Adrian turned toward me, his expression unreadable.
"Miss Carter, before you leave, there's something you need to know about the woman whose lunch you just paid for."
I looked toward Mrs. Ellis.
She was no longer crying.
She was staring at Adrian with an expression I couldn't identify.
Fear?
Recognition?
Or something far more complicated?
Adrian approached her table.
"Hello, Eleanor."
Mrs. Ellis closed her eyes.
"Adrian."
I blinked.
"You two know each other?"
Neither answered immediately.
Then Mrs. Ellis whispered, "I was hoping you wouldn't find me."
The restaurant seemed to grow colder.
Adrian pulled out the chair opposite her.
"I've been looking for you for six weeks."
Mrs. Ellis looked down.
"I know."
"Why did you disappear?"
Her hands began trembling again.
"Because someone told me you were the one who ordered my son killed."
Silence swallowed the room.
Daniel Mercer backed toward the kitchen.
Adrian didn't move.
But something dangerous passed across his face.
"Who told you that?"
Mrs. Ellis looked toward Daniel.
And whispered one name.
"Mercer."
Adrian turned slowly.
Daniel's face had gone white.
"That's ridiculous."
Mrs. Ellis reached into her handbag.
She removed a folded photograph.
"I was given this three days after Thomas died."
Adrian took it.
His expression changed.
I couldn't see the picture clearly, but I saw enough.
A warehouse.
A black sedan.
A man lying motionless near a loading dock.
And another man standing beside him.
Adrian stared at the photograph.
Then said quietly, "This isn't Thomas."
Mrs. Ellis gasped.
"What?"
Adrian turned the photograph toward her.
"The man in this picture isn't your son."
I leaned forward.
He was right.
The resemblance was strong.
But the face was different.
Mrs. Ellis gripped the table.
"Then where is Thomas?"
Adrian looked toward the windows.
His jaw tightened.
"That's what we're going to find out."
Then he turned to Daniel.
"And you are going to explain why you've been feeding this woman lies."
Daniel bolted toward the kitchen.
One of Adrian's men moved to intercept him.
I stepped back.
My heart hammered.
I had entered work that morning worried about rent.
Now I was standing inside a restaurant with a suspected kidnapping, a missing man, and the most feared criminal in Chicago.
Adrian looked at me.
"Miss Carter."
I swallowed.
"Yes?"
"You asked what good power is if it doesn't help someone."
May you like
He looked toward Mrs. Ellis.
"Today, we're going to find out."
