Chapter 2 - THE PAWNED LOCKET
I practically ran to Table 9. My hands shook as I dropped the leather checkbook onto the white linen. The wealthy couple didn’t even look up from their phones, oblivious to the storm brewing across the dining room.
I risked a glance back at Table 7. Antonio Russo was leaning over his mother, speaking softly in Italian. His broad back was to me, yet his presence commanded the entire room. Marco hovered nearby like a nervous fly, his usual arrogance completely stripped away.
When my shift finally ended at midnight, I slipped out the back alley door. The cool Brooklyn air hit my face, smelling of rain and stale garbage. I just wanted to get home to check on my grandmother.
“Not so fast, Sophie.”
I froze. Marco stepped out from the shadows of the dumpsters, pulling on a cigarette. The cherry flared orange, illuminating his sharp, cruel features.
“You made me look like a fool in front of Mr. Russo,” Marco snarled, tossing the cigarette onto the wet asphalt and grinding it beneath his heel.
“I was just doing my job,” I said, clutching my cheap fabric coat around my chest.
“Your job is to be invisible,” Marco snapped. He closed the distance between us, crowding me against the cold brick wall. “Do you have the money? Your grandmother’s payment was due yesterday.”
My stomach plummeted. My grandmother’s gambling debt wasn’t to a bank. It was to the loan sharks operating out of Marco’s social club. The debt was the reason I had dropped out of nursing school.
“I have three hundred,” I whispered, reaching into my apron for my tip money. “I’ll have the rest by Friday. I swear.”
Marco snatched the envelope from my trembling hands. He thumbed through the bills and sneered. “This barely covers the interest. Maybe I should pay her a visit tonight. Remind her of the consequences.”
“Leave her alone!” I cried out.
“Is there a problem here?”
The voice was low, smooth, and laced with absolute zero warmth.
Marco flinched, spinning around.
Antonio Russo stood at the mouth of the alley. He was alone, but he didn’t need his security detail. The way he stood—perfectly still, hands casually in the pockets of his tailored charcoal coat—was a threat all on its own.
“Mr. Russo,” Marco stammered, the color draining from his face. “We were just… discussing scheduling.”
Antonio walked slowly toward us. The alley was dark, but his dark eyes caught the faint glow of the streetlamp. He didn’t look at Marco. He looked directly at me.
“It sounded like a discussion about debt,” Antonio said gently.
Marco swallowed hard. “Just a misunderstanding between employees.”
“Give it back,” Antonio commanded. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to.
Marco’s hands shook as he shoved the envelope of tip money back into my apron. He scurried away, disappearing down the street without looking back.
I stood there, shivering, clutching my meager earnings. I felt humiliated.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I said, finding my voice. “He’s going to make my life hell now.”
Antonio closed the remaining distance between us. Up close, I could see the fine stitching of his suit and the hard, uncompromising line of his jaw.
“Marco will no longer be a problem for you,” Antonio said quietly. “My mother speaks highly of you, Sophie. She says you have the hands of a healer.”
“I’m just a waitress.”
“You are a nursing student whose grandmother is in debt to a very dangerous group of men,” he corrected smoothly.
My breath caught. “How do you know that?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet pouch. He held it out to me.
“My mother requires a live-in medical companion. The pay will cover your debts entirely. And you will be safe.”
I stared at the pouch, hesitant to take it. “I don’t accept charity.”
“It is not charity. It is a job.” Antonio stepped closer, his scent of cedar and expensive cologne wrapping around me. “Open it.”
I took the pouch with trembling fingers. I loosened the drawstrings and tipped the object into my palm.
My heart stopped.
May you like
It was a vintage silver locket. The exact locket my grandmother had pawned two days ago to make her last payment to Marco’s men. But when I pressed the tiny clasp, the locket snapped open, revealing a faded photograph inside that hadn't been there before.
It was a picture of my mother. Standing next to Antonio Russo.
