Chapter 2 - Two Hundred Dollars Every Thursday
Tessa did not sleep.
At four in the morning she sat at her kitchen table in a sweatshirt and socks, the Aster statement flattened beneath a coffee mug. Rain tapped the fire escape outside. The apartment looked exactly as it had the previous week—cheap blinds, sagging couch, one cabinet door that never closed—but the page in front of her had changed the geometry of everything.
Two hundred dollars.
Every Thursday.
Gabriel Rossi.
It was too neat.
Too obvious.
Which meant either he had been paying her mother’s debt without telling her, or someone wanted Tessa to believe he had.
Neither possibility made her feel better.
At eight thirty she called Aster Recovery.
A recorded voice told her the call might be monitored.
Good, she thought.
“Account number?”
Tessa read it.
The representative paused.
“This account is under restricted review.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m not authorized to discuss internal flags.”
“It’s my mother’s account.”
“Your mother is the account holder?”
“She’s dead.”
Another pause.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
The phrase was delivered with the emotional weight of a parking receipt.
Tessa leaned back.
“Who made the last twelve payments?”
“We don’t disclose third-party payer information.”
“Then tell me whether I made them.”
“I can confirm they were not processed from the bank account on file.”
Tessa’s stomach tightened.
“Were they cash?”
“I can’t say.”
“Corporate transfer?”
“I can’t say.”
“Can you say anything?”
“Yes. Your current balance is eighty-four thousand thirteen dollars.”
Tessa looked at the statement.
The paper said eighty-six.
Someone had made another payment.
Since last night.
She hung up.
At ten she arrived at Ilvento, though she was not scheduled.
Richard intercepted her at the front desk.
“You’re off today.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because I need to speak with Gabriel.”
Richard’s expression changed.
“No.”
Tessa blinked. “No?”
“He’s not available.”
“You didn’t even check.”
“I don’t need to.”
Richard stepped closer.
“Whatever happened last night, forget it.”
Tessa looked at him carefully.
“What happened last night?”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
“The part where Don Rossi ate potatoes?”
Richard’s jaw clenched.
“The part where you inserted yourself into family business.”
“I served a table.”
“You showed off.”
Tessa almost laughed.
“By speaking?”
“By making yourself memorable.”
The words landed strangely.
Tessa remembered Gabriel’s stare over the past three months.
Not lust.
Assessment.
She took the statement from her purse.
Richard’s eyes dropped to it.
Only for half a second.
But she saw recognition.
Tessa’s pulse changed.
“You know what this is.”
“I don’t.”
“You looked at the logo.”
“Everyone knows Aster.”
“Not like that.”
Richard glanced toward the security camera above the host stand.
Then he smiled.
“You’re tired, Tessa. Go home.”
She did not move.
“Did you put this in my locker?”
“No.”
“Do you know who did?”
“No.”
“Did Gabriel?”
Richard’s smile vanished.
“I said go home.”
A deep voice spoke behind her.
“She’s staying.”
Gabriel.
He stood near the private dining-room entrance, sleeves rolled to his forearms, no jacket, phone in hand.
Richard’s face reset itself.
“Mr. Rossi, I was just explaining—”
“I heard.”
Gabriel looked at the statement.
“Come with me.”
Tessa followed him into the private room.
He closed the door but did not lock it.
That mattered to her.
He sat at the end of a twelve-seat table.
She remained standing.
“Did you pay this?”
Gabriel took the statement.
His expression gave her the answer before his mouth did.
“No.”
Tessa watched him.
“You leave exactly two hundred dollars every Thursday.”
“For you.”
“As a tip.”
“Yes.”
“And somebody has been applying the exact same amount to my mother’s debt.”
Gabriel looked down again.
“That’s not coincidence.”
“No.”
“Did you know she had debt with Aster?”
“Not until last night.”
“Did you know Aster was taking payments linked to me?”
“No.”
Tessa crossed her arms.
“You understand how much I want to believe you and how stupid it would be if I did.”
“Yes.”
The honesty disarmed her.
Gabriel picked up his phone.
“Give me twenty minutes.”
“For what?”
“To find out where the payments came from.”
“You can do that?”
“I own twenty-one percent of Aster through a holding company.”
Tessa stared at him.
“You own part of the company collecting from me.”
“I didn’t know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true.”
“And because it makes you sound innocent.”
Gabriel stood.
“I’m not innocent.”
The room went quiet.
He continued.
“I’m responsible for things I knew about and things I chose not to know about. Those are not the same, but neither one makes me innocent.”
Tessa had expected denial.
Instead, she got accountability.
It made him more dangerous to her, not less.
“Twenty minutes,” she said.
Gabriel made three calls.
The first was to legal.
The second was to someone named Marisol in compliance.
The third lasted less than thirty seconds.
When he ended it, the calm had vanished from his face.
“What?”
He looked at her.
“The payments came through Ilvento payroll.”
Tessa frowned.
“I’m not on salary. I’m hourly.”
“Not from your paycheck.”
“Then whose?”
Gabriel turned the statement around and pointed to an internal reference code Marisol had texted him.
“Employee assistance reimbursement.”
Tessa laughed once.
“There is no employee assistance program.”
“There is on paper.”
That sentence chilled her.
Gabriel opened a spreadsheet on his phone.
“Ilvento reports forty-three employees receiving debt relief benefits.”
“We have maybe six people with insurance.”
“Exactly.”
Tessa pulled out a chair and sat down.
“Who approves it?”
Gabriel’s eyes met hers.
“Richard.”
They did not speak for several seconds.
Tessa remembered Richard begging her to serve Salvatore.
Richard recognizing the Aster logo.
Richard telling her to forget last night.
“What does he get out of paying my mother’s debt?”
Gabriel’s expression tightened.
“Maybe nothing.”
“Then why do it?”
“Because the payment itself may not be the point.”
He scrolled.
“These reimbursements are booked as employee benefits, but they’re coming out of a discretionary hospitality fund.”
“English.”
“Someone is moving money out of the restaurant, routing a small piece to real debts so the program looks legitimate, and sending the rest somewhere else.”
“How much?”
Gabriel looked at the screen.
“Last year? One point eight million.”
Tessa stared.
She thought about the kitchen staff sharing subway cards after late shifts. The dishwasher who slept in his cousin’s living room. Chef Elena arguing for months to replace a broken freezer.
“One point eight million dollars left this restaurant under a fake program?”
“Yes.”
“And nobody noticed?”
Gabriel’s face darkened.
“I’m noticing now.”
The private-room door opened.
Salvatore entered without knocking.
His cane struck the floor once.
“I told you last night,” he said. “Debt makes cowards out of rich men.”
Gabriel turned.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
Tessa stood.
“You suspected someone was stealing from employees?”
Salvatore’s gaze stayed on Gabriel.
“I suspected Aster had become rotten.”
“Same thing.”
“No. Not the same thing.”
“To the person drowning, it is.”
The old man looked at her.
Something like approval moved through his face.
Then Chef Elena burst into the room.
She was pale.
“Tessa.”
“What?”
Elena held up her phone.
“I just got a payroll alert.”
She turned the screen around.
A deduction had been added to her next check.
EMPLOYEE MEDICAL ADVANCE: $475.
Elena’s voice shook.
“I’ve never borrowed a dime from this place.”
Gabriel took the phone.
Then his own buzzed.
Marisol from compliance.
He read the message.
His expression hardened.
“What now?” Tessa asked.
Gabriel looked toward the frosted glass wall separating them from the restaurant.
“Someone just deleted the entire employee-assistance database.”
May you like
Tessa turned toward the door.
Richard was no longer at the host stand.
