Chapter 1 - The Woman Who Said No
The first thing Norah Bennett noticed was not Valerie Whitmore’s raised voice.
It was Lily’s knees beginning to bend.
Nineteen years old and only three weeks into her first real restaurant job, Lily Parker stood inside the glass-walled private dining room of one of Chicago’s most expensive restaurants with tears running down her cheeks.
One drop of red wine had landed on the sleeve of Valerie Whitmore’s white cashmere coat.
One drop.
For that mistake, Valerie wanted the girl on the floor.
“Get down.”
Valerie pointed toward the polished hardwood beneath her designer heels.
“Clean it up. Then you can beg me not to have you fired.”
The restaurant fell silent.
At the table behind Valerie sat Dominic Mercer.
Half of Chicago pretended not to recognize him.
The other half recognized him and knew better than to stare.
Dominic wore a charcoal suit and a plain silver watch. His dark hair was combed back, his expression unreadable. He looked less like the frightening man whispered about in private clubs and more like someone who had simply become exhausted by being feared.
He said nothing.
That silence frightened Lily more than Valerie’s anger.
Lily swallowed.
Then she began lowering herself.
Norah moved.
She caught Lily by the arm.
“No.”
Quiet.
Simple.
Absolute.
Valerie slowly turned.
“What did you say?”
Norah’s feet hurt.
Her back hurt.
She had worked eleven hours.
There were eighty-seven dollars in her checking account.
Her heating bill was overdue.
Courage had nothing to do with what happened next.
She was simply too tired to watch someone be humiliated.
“I said no. She spilled a drink. She didn’t commit a crime.”
Someone dropped a fork.
Valerie stepped closer.
“You know who I am?”
“You’re the customer at table six.”
A muscle moved in Dominic’s jaw.
“I can destroy your life,” Valerie whispered.
“Then destroy mine. But she’s not getting on her knees.”
Manager Leo Grant came running.
“Ms. Whitmore, I apologize. Lily is fired. Norah, my office.”
“No,” Valerie snapped. “The girl stays until she cleans my shoes.”
Then Dominic put down his knife.
The tiny click against porcelain traveled through the silent room.
“Dominic,” Valerie said. “Handle her.”
Dominic looked at Norah.
For two years she had served his table.
For two years she had been invisible.
Now he noticed everything.
Her worn shoes.
Her trembling hand.
The frightened teenager hiding behind her.
And the fact that Norah knew exactly who he was and had still stepped forward.
Then Dominic looked at Valerie.
“Sit down.”
Valerie blinked.
“What?”
“You’re shouting.”
“She insulted me.”
“You’re giving me a headache.”
“Dominic—”
“Sit.”
She sat.
Dominic placed three hundred dollars beside his unfinished dinner.
“We’re leaving.”
At the entrance, Leo rushed after him.
“I promise Norah will be terminated immediately.”
Dominic stopped.
“If she isn’t working here next time I come in, I’ll assume this restaurant no longer understands good judgment.”
Then he disappeared into the Chicago rain.
Norah didn't understand why he had protected her.
She understood even less when two weeks passed and nothing happened.
Then, one Tuesday afternoon, Lily brought her coffee.
“My dad works around the freight yards,” Lily whispered. “I told him what happened.”
Norah frowned.
“What did he say?”
“He told me not to talk about Valerie Whitmore again.”
“Why?”
“He wouldn't say.”
“Was he afraid of Dominic?”
Lily shook her head.
“No.”
That answer bothered Norah.
“Then who?”
Before Lily could answer, Leo appeared.
His face had gone pale.
“Norah.”
“What?”
“Private dining room.”
“We're closed until five.”
“I know.”
“Who is it?”
Leo swallowed.
“Dominic Mercer.”
Norah found him sitting alone.
No Valerie.
No bodyguards.
No dinner.
Only a black folder.
“You wanted me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Sit.”
Norah remained standing.
Dominic almost smiled.
“Please.”
She sat.
He opened the folder.
Inside were invoices and photographs of shipping containers.
“Do these mean anything to you?”
“No.”
“Three companies have been billing one of my businesses for freight that doesn't exist.”
“Then you need an accountant.”
“My accountant disappeared yesterday.”
Norah stopped smiling.
Dominic placed a photograph before her.
Several workers stood outside a warehouse.
Norah didn't recognize them.
Then Lily entered behind her carrying water.
The glass slipped from her hand.
It shattered.
Lily was staring at the photograph.
“That's my dad.”
Dominic turned.
“What?”
Lily pointed toward an older man wearing a reflective jacket.
“My father.”
“When did you last see him?”
“Yesterday morning.”
Her breathing quickened.
“He didn't come home last night.”
Lily reached into her apron and removed a folded piece of paper.
“He gave me this after I told him what happened with Valerie.”
“What is it?” Norah asked.
“He said if something happened, I should give it to somebody I trusted.”
Dominic extended his hand.
Lily looked at him.
Then gave the paper to Norah.
Dominic noticed.
Norah unfolded it.
Container numbers.
Dates.
Amounts.
And three names.
The third name made the room suddenly feel colder.
VALERIE WHITMORE.
Dominic stared at it.
His phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
Lily's father.
Standing beside a warehouse.
Alive.
Below the photograph:
ASK YOUR FIANCÉE WHAT SHE DID LAST NIGHT.
Another message followed.
AND STOP TRUSTING THE PEOPLE INSIDE YOUR HOUSE.
For the first time, Norah saw something unfamiliar in Dominic Mercer’s eyes.
Fear.
Not for himself.
May you like
For the realization that the enemy might already be sitting at his table.
And Valerie Whitmore was waiting for him at home.
