Chapter 3 - THE NAME THAT CHANGED HIS FACE
Dominic Moretti had spent fifteen years building an empire that operated through shipping, construction, private security, and businesses that respectable men pretended not to understand.
He had enemies.
Many enemies.
But only a handful were reckless enough to threaten his family.
And one of them had supposedly died three years earlier.
Victor Calder.
The name Brielle had heard.
Dominic sat perfectly still.
“Are you certain?”
Brielle frowned.
“I think so.”
“Tell me exactly what you heard.”
She closed her eyes.
“The man with the gun said something like… Calder won't wait forever.”
Dominic's jaw tightened.
She opened her eyes.
“Is that bad?”
He looked at her.
“Yes.”
Brielle swallowed.
“Who is he?”
Dominic hesitated.
“Someone who should no longer be involved in my family's affairs.”
She studied him.
“That doesn't sound like an answer.”
A faint smile crossed his face.
“No.”
He stood.
“It isn't.”
Outside the room, Dominic found his security chief, Marcus Bell.
Marcus had served him for twelve years.
He was forty-five, disciplined, and rarely surprised.
Today, he looked shaken.
“Boss.”
Dominic closed the door.
“She heard Calder's name.”
Marcus stared.
“That's impossible.”
“Apparently not.”
Marcus lowered his voice.
“Victor Calder died in a warehouse fire.”
Dominic looked toward the hallway.
“We saw a body.”
Marcus nodded.
“We did.”
Dominic's expression darkened.
“Then someone lied.”
Meanwhile, Brielle sat alone in the hospital room.
She looked at the yellow flower.
Her fingers trembled.
She had survived the attack.
The little girl was safe.
The grandmother was safe.
But something about Dominic's reaction frightened her more than the gunman had.
She reached for her phone.
Three missed calls.
All from her manager at the diner.
She called back.
“Brielle?”
“Hi, Mr. Kaplan.”
“Where are you?”
“Hospital.”
A pause.
“What happened?”
She explained briefly.
He sighed.
“Look, I'm sorry, but I need someone reliable.”
Brielle closed her eyes.
“I was attacked.”
“I understand. But we can't hold your shifts indefinitely.”
She stared at the wall.
“Are you firing me?”
Silence.
Then:
“I'll mail your final paycheck.”
The call ended.
Brielle lowered the phone.
For a moment, she simply sat there.
Then she laughed.
A small, broken sound.
She had nearly died protecting strangers.
And now she didn't even have a job.
The door opened.
Dominic returned.
He took one look at her face.
“What happened?”
Brielle shook her head.
“Nothing.”
He studied her.
“Brielle.”
She looked up.
“My boss fired me.”
Dominic's expression changed.
“Because you were injured?”
She shrugged.
“Because I missed work.”
He stared.
Then reached for his phone.
Brielle sat forward.
“No.”
He stopped.
She shook her head.
“Please don't threaten him.”
Dominic looked almost offended.
“I wasn't going to threaten him.”
She raised an eyebrow.
He paused.
“Not necessarily.”
Despite everything, Brielle laughed.
For the first time since the attack, Dominic smiled.
Then he put the phone away.
“All right.”
She looked surprised.
“All right?”
“You don't want me involved. I won't interfere.”
Brielle studied him.
“Thank you.”
Dominic nodded.
But when he turned toward the door, his expression changed again.
Because he had just received a message.
A photograph.
Taken outside the hospital.
It showed Brielle's apartment building.
May you like
Underneath were six words.
THE WAITRESS SHOULD HAVE STAYED QUIET.
