Chapter 1 - The Twelve-Dollar Firing And The Mafia Boss In The Corner
“Take off your apron. You're fired!” Those words cost me my only source of income—all because I paid $12.40 for an elderly woman's lunch. But when I turned toward the mysterious man watching from the corner and asked, “Enjoying the show?” I had no idea I was talking to Chicago's most feared mafia boss—or that my next words would leave him speechless.
My name is Sophie Carter, and until that Thursday afternoon, I'd worked nearly two years at The Linden Room, an upscale Chicago restaurant where wealthy businessmen spent more on appetizers than I earned in an hour. At twenty-eight, I had $800 in savings, an eleven-year-old Honda that desperately needed brakes, and rent due in nine days. My mother also needed help paying for medication her insurance wouldn't cover, so losing my job was the last thing I could afford. But Mrs. Ellis, an eighty-two-year-old regular, had forgotten her wallet in a taxi. Her hands trembled as she apologized, and I couldn't bear watching her embarrassment. I quietly paid her $12.40 bill, hoping nobody would make a fuss.
Unfortunately, my manager, Daniel Mercer, noticed. “Did you pay for this woman's meal?” “Yes, Daniel. She forgot her wallet.” “This is the third time you've pulled something like this!” “The first man was diabetic and needed food. The second woman's card was declined.” “I DON'T CARE!” The entire restaurant fell silent. Mrs. Ellis began crying. “Please,” she whispered. “I'll bring the money tomorrow.” I squeezed her shoulder. “You haven't done anything wrong.” Daniel pointed at my apron. “Take it off. You're finished here.” For a moment, I couldn't breathe. I thought about my overdue bills, my mother's prescriptions, and the empty space in my savings account. Then I looked at Mrs. Ellis, who was shaking so badly she could barely hold her napkin. I slowly untied my apron. “Okay.” “Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry,” she sobbed. I crouched beside her chair. “Mrs. Ellis, last Tuesday I spent twenty minutes looking for my phone while I was talking on it.” She blinked. Then she laughed through her tears. “There you go,” I whispered. “You're doing better than me.”
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Daniel folded his arms. “Your final paycheck will be ready Friday.” “Wonderful,” I replied. “I was worried you'd pay me in leftover breadsticks.” Someone nearby laughed. “GET OUT!” Daniel snapped. I grabbed my worn leather purse and headed for the exit. That's when I noticed him. A broad-shouldered man in a black suit sat alone in the darkest corner, watching me over a cup of coffee. His expensive silver watch caught the light, but it was his cold, unreadable eyes that made me stop. “Enjoying the show?” I asked. He lowered his cup. “No.” “Could've fooled me.” His expression didn't change. “Was it worth it?” I frowned. “What?” “Losing your job over twelve dollars.” I stared at him, suddenly furious. “Sir, that woman was terrified and embarrassed. She's eighty-two years old, and everyone in this restaurant watched her get humiliated over the price of a sandwich.” He leaned back. “And now you're unemployed.” “Yes,” I answered. “But at least I can sleep tonight knowing I didn't make an old woman cry over twelve dollars.” For the first time, something shifted in his eyes. Then I added, “If you've got enough power to help someone and choose to sit there watching instead, what good is your power?”
The man's coffee cup stopped halfway to his mouth. Behind me, Daniel suddenly went pale. “Miss Carter,” he whispered urgently. “Do you have any idea who you're speaking to?” I turned. “Someone who apparently needed to hear that.” Daniel looked absolutely terrified. “That's Adrien Voss.” The stranger slowly stood, towering over me. Then he looked past my shoulder at Daniel and spoke four words that made the entire restaurant freeze. “Lock the front door.”
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