Chapter 2 - The Lease That Was Never Supposed to Exist
Grace spent the next twelve minutes explaining why Roselli’s survived.
She talked about the breakfast crowd.
The elderly couple who came every Sunday.
The firefighters who ate at the counter after night shifts.
The college students who used the back booth because Tony let them stay for hours.
She talked about Jenna, who was saving for nursing school.
She talked about Maria, the head cook, whose son had recently been injured and whose paycheck was helping pay his medical bills.
She talked about people.
Vincent listened.
He didn’t interrupt.
When Grace finally finished, she leaned back.
“That’s why it matters.”
Vincent studied her.
“You could have simply said the numbers work.”
“They don’t.”
“Then why defend the restaurant?”
“Because numbers aren’t the only reason businesses exist.”
He almost smiled.
“You really dislike me.”
Grace looked confused.
“Who said that?”
“You did. Several times.”
“I dislike arrogance.”
“And you think I’m arrogant.”
“I think you walked into a restaurant you own, watched a woman get grabbed, and only moved when someone embarrassed you into it.”
Vincent nodded.
“That’s fair.”
Grace blinked.
She wasn’t expecting agreement.
“You’re not going to argue?”
“Would that change your opinion?”
“No.”
“Then it would be inefficient.”
She laughed before she could stop herself.
Vincent reached into his folder.
“The rent increase is being suspended.”
Grace’s smile disappeared.
“What?”
“For six months.”
“Why?”
“I’m reviewing the property.”
“You own dozens of buildings.”
“Forty-eight.”
“You counted?”
“I know what belongs to me.”
“And this one?”
“I know what was done to it.”
Grace frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Vincent slid a second document across the table.
She read it.
The lease she had received from Tony was different from the one in Vincent’s system.
The signatures looked almost identical.
Almost.
But not quite.
“This isn’t our lease.”
Vincent nodded.
“Exactly.”
Grace looked up.
“Who gave Tony this?”
“That is what I’m trying to determine.”
“Are you saying someone forged your company’s documents?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Vincent’s expression hardened.
“That is also what I’m trying to determine.”
Grace stared at him.
Suddenly the rent increase wasn’t just a business problem.
Someone wanted Roselli’s gone.
But why?
Tony had always been vague about the building’s ownership history.
Grace had assumed it was simply another old restaurant renting a downtown property from a wealthy company.
She hadn’t imagined there was anything more.
Vincent leaned forward.
“Has anyone approached Tony about selling?”
Grace’s expression changed.
“Three times.”
“Who?”
“A developer.”
“Name?”
“Calder Urban Development.”
Vincent’s jaw tightened.
“Who approached him?”
“A man named Marcus Vale.”
Vincent became very still.
Grace noticed.
“You know him.”
“Yes.”
“Should I be worried?”
Vincent paused.
“Yes.”
She frowned.
“About what?”
“About how much you don’t know.”
Grace sat back.
“That is an extremely ominous sentence.”
“I know.”
“Could you use a less terrifying one?”
“No.”
She stared at him.
“You really are terrible at this.”
“At what?”
“Talking to people.”
Vincent’s eyes remained on hers.
“Most people don’t want me to talk to them.”
“That’s tragic.”
“Is it?”
Grace smiled.
“Maybe.”
Something shifted between them.
Neither acknowledged it.
Then the restaurant door opened.
A tall man entered.
He wore a charcoal coat and smiled politely.
“Grace Miller?”
Grace stood.
“Yes?”
“Marcus Vale.”
Her heart sank.
Vincent slowly turned his head.
Marcus stopped when he saw him.
For one second, his polished expression disappeared.
“Mr. Martell.”
Vincent’s voice was flat.
“Marcus.”
“You’re here.”
“So are you.”
Marcus laughed lightly.
“I was just checking whether Ms. Miller had reconsidered Tony’s offer.”
“There was no offer,” Grace said.
Marcus looked at her.
“There can be.”
Vincent rose.
Grace had seen angry men before.
She had even seen Vincent angry.
This was different.
He looked calm.
Too calm.
“You have no reason to be here,” Vincent said.
Marcus’s smile remained.
“Actually, I do.”
He placed a business card on the table.
“Grace, your employer has ninety days to vacate. We’re prepared to compensate you and the staff.”
Grace looked at the card.
“You’re asking twenty-two people to lose their jobs.”
“People find new work.”
Vincent stepped closer.
“Leave.”
Marcus looked at him.
“This is a commercial negotiation.”
“It stopped being one when you falsified my lease.”
Marcus’s face hardened.
Grace looked between them.
“You know each other well.”
Neither answered.
Marcus straightened his coat.
“You always did become sentimental about properties, Vincent.”
“Get out.”
Marcus left.
Grace watched the door close.
Then she turned.
“What was that?”
Vincent didn’t answer.
“Vincent.”
He finally looked at her.
“The man you just met is dangerous.”
“So are you.”
“Yes.”
That honesty caught her off guard.
Vincent walked back toward the table.
“You should stay away from this.”
Grace shook her head.
“No.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
“This isn’t your fight.”
Grace picked up the forged lease.
“They threatened twenty-two people's livelihoods.”
“Grace.”
“They targeted my restaurant.”
“Grace.”
“And now you’re telling me to sit quietly because dangerous men are involved?”
Vincent stared at her.
She leaned closer.
“I don’t need you to protect me.”
“I know.”
“Then stop treating me like someone who needs permission to stand up.”
Vincent’s expression softened.
“That isn’t why I’m asking you to stay away.”
“Then why?”
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Because he could not tell her.
Not yet.
He could not tell her that Marcus Vale was once his most trusted lieutenant.
He could not tell her Marcus had started diverting illegal money through legitimate properties.
He could not tell her that Roselli’s sat directly above one of the old underground transfer routes Marcus used.
And most importantly, he could not tell her the file he received three days earlier had her photograph circled in red.
Vincent finally said,
“Because people around me get hurt.”
Grace's eyes narrowed.
“People around you?”
“Yes.”
“Is that supposed to scare me?”
“It’s supposed to warn you.”
Grace took a slow breath.
Then she smiled.
“Too late.”
That evening, Grace closed Roselli’s at eleven.
She walked to the bus stop alone.
Halfway there, she noticed a dark SUV idling across the street.
She kept walking.
The SUV moved.
Her pulse quickened.
She turned down a brighter street.
The SUV followed.
Then headlights appeared behind her.
A black sedan pulled between her and the SUV.
The passenger door opened.
Vincent stepped out.
Grace stopped.
“What are you doing here?”
“Taking you home.”
“I can take myself home.”
“I know.”
She stared at him.
“Did you follow me?”
“No.”
“Then how did you know?”
Vincent’s eyes shifted toward the dark SUV.
“I’m not the only person watching.”
Grace looked back.
The SUV was gone.
Her stomach dropped.
Vincent opened the passenger door.
“Get in.”
This time, Grace didn’t argue.
For ten minutes they drove in silence.
Finally, Grace whispered,
“Who are they?”
Vincent kept his eyes on the road.
“I don’t know yet.”
“You’re lying.”
“Yes.”
She turned toward him.
“At least you admit it.”
“I don’t know exactly who sent them.”
“That’s different.”
“Yes.”
She stared through the window.
Then Vincent said quietly,
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For bringing danger to your door.”
Grace looked at him.
“You didn't bring it.”
Vincent’s hands tightened around the steering wheel.
“You don’t understand.”
“No.”
Grace sighed.
“I don’t.”
Then she looked directly at him.
“But I’m starting to think you want me to.”
Vincent said nothing.
Because she was right.
And somewhere deep inside, he already knew the truth.
He wasn't protecting Roselli’s because it was profitable.
May you like
He was protecting Grace.
And that frightened him more than any enemy he had ever faced.
