Chapter 4 - THE GHOST FROM MAPLE STREET
Two days later, the peace of Maple Street Books was shattered.
It was 3:00 PM.
The bell above the shop door chimed.
I looked up from the front counter where I was sorting invoices.
Jason stood in the doorway.
My ex-boyfriend.
The man who had casually destroyed our four-year relationship over takeout Chinese food to run off with his coworker, Chloe.
He looked messy.
His hair was uncombed, and his expensive jacket was wrinkled.
“Emily,” Jason said, stepping inside and walking toward the counter.
“What do you want, Jason?” I asked, my voice turning to ice.
“I need to talk to you,” he said, leaning against the wooden barrier.
“Chloe threw me out last night.”
“That’s unfortunate,” I replied, not looking up from my paperwork.
“Rent in this city is expensive.”
“Don’t be like that, Em,” Jason whined, reaching across the counter to touch my hand.
I yanked my hand back as if he were burning coal.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Look, I made a mistake,” Jason pleaded.
“I realize what we had was special.”
“You realized that after she kicked you out?” I laughed bitterly.
“Listen to me!” Jason’s voice raised in frustration.
“Word is going around downtown that you’ve been hanging out with Daniel Brooks.”
My eyebrows shot up.
“Excuse me?”
“Everyone’s talking about it!” Jason hissed, grabbing the edge of the counter.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Emily.”
“A girl like you doesn't just date a mafia boss unless you’re laundering money or hiding secrets.”
“If you’re mixed up with him, you could get me in trouble!”
I stared at him in absolute astonishment.
After everything he had put me through, he was worried he might get in trouble because of my life?
“Get out of my store, Jason,” I said quietly.
“Emily, be reasonable—”
“I said, get out.”
Before Jason could argue further, the shop door chimed again.
Two massive men in dark suits stepped into the quiet bookstore.
They didn't look like customers.
They looked like executioners.
One of them stepped between Jason and the counter, his broad shoulders blocking the aisle entirely.
“Is there a problem here, Ms. Carter?” the larger enforcer asked, his voice flat and menacing.
Jason turned pale, recognizing the men immediately.
“N-no problem!” Jason stammered, backing away toward the door.
“Just leaving!”
He tripped over his own feet, scrambled up, and bolted out onto the sidewalk without looking back.
The enforcer watched him go, then turned his gaze toward me.
May you like
“Mr. Brooks sends his regards,” the man said politely.
“And he asked me to make sure nobody ever raises their voice to you again.”
