Chapter 9 - The Waitress They Thought Would Stay Quiet
Mara had served men like Victor Marcelli for years.
Rich men.
Powerful men.
Men who snapped their fingers instead of saying excuse me.
Men who believed anyone carrying a tray was invisible.
That had taught her something useful.
Powerful people talked freely around people they considered beneath them.
Victor made the same mistake.
He approached Mara while Luca was speaking with the mayor.
“Mrs. Valenti.”
Mara turned.
“Mr. Marcelli.”
“You know me?”
“Everyone knows you.”
He smiled.
“Usually that's said with more fear.”
“I'm trying to cut down.”
His smile thinned.
“You're very different from what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
“A waitress.”
Mara held his gaze.
“I still am one.”
“Not anymore.”
“Job titles change. People don't always.”
Victor glanced toward Luca.
“You married quickly.”
“I've had slower restaurant orders.”
That caught him off guard.
Good.
Mara continued.
“My father apparently knew your family.”
Victor's face barely changed.
Barely.
“Thomas Quinn.”
There.
He knew instantly.
“You remember him.”
“I remember many people.”
“Do you remember apple pie?”
His eyes flickered.
The ledger code.
Page fourteen.
Apple pie.
A set of payments from Aldo to Marcelli.
Victor's smile disappeared.
Mara knew federal microphones were capturing every word.
“Careful,” he whispered.
“With dessert?”
“With history.”
“History seems to be catching up.”
He stepped closer.
“Your father thought he was smarter than everyone.”
“And?”
“He died.”
Mara's stomach twisted.
But her face stayed calm.
“Is that a threat?”
“A fact.”
Luca appeared beside her.
Victor's posture changed immediately.
“Luca.”
“Victor.”
Men like them could communicate entire wars with two names.
Victor walked away.
Luca looked at Mara.
“You pushed too hard.”
“He reacted.”
“You enjoyed that.”
“A little.”
His hand settled carefully at the small of her back.
The first touch between them in public.
Mara felt it everywhere.
Then the ballroom lights went out.
People gasped.
Emergency lights flickered on.
Luca grabbed Mara.
A body slammed into him.
Someone pulled Mara backward.
A hand covered her mouth.
She kicked.
Hard.
Her heel connected with a shin.
A man's curse.
Enzo.
She recognized his voice.
“Stop fighting!”
She bit his hand.
He swore louder.
Security surged through the room.
Enzo dragged Mara through a service door.
She reached beneath the fabric at her waist.
Dana had given her a panic transmitter.
Mara pressed it.
Enzo shoved her against a wall.
“What did you do?”
“Ruined your evening.”
He grabbed her wrist.
“You should've stayed a waitress.”
“I am getting very tired of that sentence.”
He pulled a gun.
Mara froze.
“Where's the book?”
“Safe.”
“Where?”
“With people who know how to make copies.”
His face changed.
He hadn't considered copies.
“You're lying.”
“No.”
Footsteps approached.
Enzo shoved the gun against her side.
“Tell Luca to back off.”
“No.”
“Mara.”
“No.”
His hand trembled.
Interesting.
He wasn't Aldo.
Not really.
He was afraid.
“What did your father promise you?” she asked.
“Shut up.”
“He promised you'd run the family?”
“Shut up.”
“He's using you.”
Enzo's jaw tightened.
“He's my father.”
“And Thomas Quinn was mine.”
That landed.
“You know what Aldo did.”
Enzo looked away.
Mara understood.
“You know.”
“He didn't mean for Thomas to die.”
Her heart stopped.
“What?”
Enzo realized his mistake.
Too late.
Mara whispered, “Say it again.”
“No.”
“You just admitted he was involved.”
“He wanted the ledger. The crash was supposed to scare him.”
Rage nearly blinded her.
“My father died.”
“I was seven!”
“I didn't say you did it.”
Enzo's eyes filled with panic.
“He cut the brake line enough to fail later. He thought Thomas would notice.”
Mara stared.
That was the stupidest explanation imaginable.
The kind guilty families repeated until they believed it.
Then Luca's voice came from the end of the corridor.
“Take the gun away from my wife.”
Enzo turned.
Luca stood twenty feet away.
Matteo beside him.
Federal agents behind.
Enzo pressed the weapon harder against Mara.
“Back up.”
Luca didn't move.
“Enzo.”
“BACK UP!”
The young man's voice broke.
Luca's expression changed.
Not anger.
Grief.
“I carried you at Carlo's funeral.”
Enzo swallowed.
“Don't.”
“You were thirteen.”
“Stop.”
“You couldn't stop crying.”
“SHUT UP!”
“I loved you like a brother.”
Enzo's hand shook.
Mara saw her chance.
She drove her elbow backward.
Enzo doubled.
The gun moved.
Luca crossed the distance.
Matteo disarmed Enzo.
Federal agents pinned him against the wall.
Mara stumbled.
Luca caught her.
“You hurt?”
“No.”
His hands checked anyway.
“Luca.”
He pulled her against his chest.
For several seconds he didn't care who watched.
Then Enzo shouted from the floor.
“You think this ends with me?”
Luca turned.
Enzo laughed bitterly.
“My father has every captain who matters.”
“That isn't true.”
“You sure?”
Silence.
“He gave them a choice.”
Enzo smiled.
“By sunrise, half your empire will belong to him.”
Luca's face went still.
Mara looked at him.
The trap had caught Enzo.
But while everyone watched the ballroom, Aldo had been making his real move.
He wasn't trying to steal the ledger anymore.
He was taking Luca's entire organization.
May you like
And he expected Luca to choose between fighting for his empire—
or keeping Mara alive.
