Chapter 2 - The Wrath of the Manager and the Midnight Escort
The tension inside the Monarch Room snapped when Gabriel Mercer stood up.
He didn't make a scene. He simply smoothed the front of his jacket, adjusted his cufflinks, and cast a chilling look across the table at Warren Pike.
“Our business is concluded, Pike,” Gabriel said in cold, flawless English. “If your SUV in the alley is still parked there in two minutes, my men will incinerate it with your driver inside.”
Warren Pike went white. The realization that the quiet waitress had dismantled his entire ambush within thirty seconds left him speechless. Gabriel didn't wait for a response. He cast one lingering, penetrating glance at Claire—a look that made her heart race wildly—before turning and walking out, flanked by Elias Reed.
The moment the brass doors swung shut, the door to the service hallway burst open.
Douglas Crane stormed in, his face red with fury. He had been watching through the observation glass.
“Are you completely insane?!” Douglas shrieked, grabbing Claire roughly by the arm and spinning her around. “You touched a VIP’s glass! You interrupted an eight-thousand-dollar dinner! Do you have any idea who those men are?!”
“Douglas, let go of me,” Claire said, wrenching her arm free with quiet dignity.
“You’re done!” Douglas roared, saliva flying from his lips. “You’re fired! Hand over your apron, pack your things, and get out of my restaurant before I call the police for harassment!”
Ten minutes later, Claire walked out of the service exit into the biting winter air. Her old winter coat offered little warmth against the damp chill of the city. She had fifty-four dollars in her checking account, three final notices in her purse, and no job. Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them back. She had survived her father’s death; she would survive this.
As she turned down the dark alleyway toward the subway station, the rumble of an engine caught her ear.
A black sedan blocked the mouth of the alley. Two men stepped out—Warren Pike’s henchmen.
“Well, well,” the taller one sneered, flicking open a switchblade. “The little fat waitress who talks too much. Mr. Pike wants to have a private conversation about what you told Mercer.”
Claire backed away, her pulse spiking in terror. “Stay away from me.”
“Not a chance, sweetheart.”
Before the man could take another step, a shadow moved behind him.
A sickening crack echoed through the alley. The armed thug collapsed to the wet asphalt, unconscious. The second man turned in panic, only to be met by a devastating blow to the solar plexus from Elias Reed.
Claire gasped, clutching her bag to her chest.
From the shadows behind Elias, Gabriel Mercer stepped forward. The glow of the streetlamp illuminated his sharp jawline and the intense, smoldering focus in his dark eyes.
“You have remarkable courage, Claire Bennett,” Gabriel said softly, stepping closer until she could smell the faint scent of cedarwood and expensive tobacco on his coat. “And terrible instincts for self-preservation.”
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“I saved your life,” Claire breathed, trying to steady her trembling hands.
“And you lost your livelihood doing it,” Gabriel countered. He held open the door to a sleek, armored Maybach idling at the curb. “Get in. We have a great deal to discuss.”
