Chapter 2 - DON’T EAT THE STEAK“The porterhouse.”
Sonia almost smiled.
Of everything on the menu, he had chosen the most expensive steak.
“Medium rare?”
“However the chef thinks it should be served.”
Dante closed the menu.
“And potatoes. Nothing complicated.”
Sonia scribbled the order and headed toward the kitchen.
Vinnie intercepted her before she reached the swinging doors.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“My job.”
“I told you to get rid of him.”
“He’s paying.”
Vinnie stared at her for several seconds.
Then something strange happened.
His anger disappeared.
Not faded.
Disappeared.
A thin smile crossed his face.
“Fine.”
Sonia stopped.
Vinnie never surrendered that easily.
“Fine?”
“Serve him.”
He took the order slip from her fingers.
“I’ll tell Marco personally.”
Every instinct Sonia possessed began whispering that something was wrong.
Vinnie entered the kitchen.
Sonia followed thirty seconds later.
The kitchen was loud enough to hide secrets. Pans hissed. Knives struck cutting boards. The exhaust hood roared overhead.
Chef Marco stood at the grill.
“Table 6 porterhouse?” Sonia asked.
Marco frowned.
“What porterhouse?”
Sonia looked toward the preparation counter.
Vinnie was there.
He had his back to her.
In front of him sat a beautifully plated steak.
A man Sonia had never seen before stood beside him.
Gray suit.
Silver tie.
Clean hands.
No restaurant uniform.
The stranger passed Vinnie a tiny glass vial.
Sonia stopped breathing.
Vinnie glanced toward the kitchen door.
She moved before he could see her, ducking behind a shelving unit stacked with plates.
“Enough?” Vinnie whispered.
“More than enough,” the stranger replied.
“What happens?”
“Heart stops. With his condition, nobody asks questions.”
Sonia pressed a hand over her mouth.
His condition?
Who was Dante?
Vinnie uncapped the vial.
Three drops disappeared onto the steak.
Sonia’s blood turned cold.
She backed away.
Her heel struck a metal bowl.
Clang.
Vinnie spun around.
Sonia grabbed the nearest tray.
“Sorry!”
She forced herself to laugh.
“Nearly killed myself.”
The stranger watched her.
Not casually.
Carefully.
Sonia carried the tray away while every nerve in her body screamed.
She should call the police.
Except Vinnie was ten feet away.
Her phone was in her locker.
And the steak was already moving toward table 6.
“Take it,” Vinnie ordered.
Sonia stared at him.
“What?”
“Your customer. Serve him.”
He placed the poisoned plate onto her tray.
The smell of grilled beef suddenly made her nauseous.
She carried it into the dining room.
Dante watched her approach.
His eyes dropped to the steak.
Then to her face.
He noticed.
Whatever fear Sonia thought she had hidden, he noticed.
She placed the plate before him.
“Anything else?”
“No.”
Dante reached for his knife.
Sonia’s heart slammed against her ribs.
Vinnie stood near the bar.
Watching.
The stranger in the gray suit had appeared beside him.
Watching.
Sonia picked up her order pad.
Her fingers trembled as she wrote four words.
DON’T EAT IT. POISONED.
She tore off the paper.
Then deliberately knocked Dante’s fork onto the floor.
“I’m so sorry.”
She bent down.
So did he.
Their eyes met beneath the table.
Sonia pushed the folded note into his palm.
For one second, neither moved.
Then Dante stood.
His expression had not changed.
He unfolded the note beneath the tablecloth.
Sonia watched his eyes read it.
No shock.
No fear.
Something worse.
Recognition.
Dante calmly cut into the steak.
Sonia almost cried out.
But instead of eating, he raised the bite near his mouth, then let it fall unnoticed into the napkin on his lap.
He repeated the trick.
Across the room, Vinnie relaxed.
The gray-suited stranger smiled.
Five minutes passed.
Dante suddenly gripped his chest.
His wineglass crashed onto the floor.
Sonia jumped.
Dante collapsed sideways from the booth.
“Call 911!” she screamed.
Vinnie did not move.
Neither did the stranger.
That was when Sonia understood.
They were waiting for him to die.
She rushed toward Dante.
His body lay still.
Then his hand caught her wrist.
Sonia nearly screamed.
His eyes opened.
Perfectly alert.
“Play along,” he whispered.
“What?”
“Now.”
Footsteps approached.
Dante went limp again.
Vinnie appeared above them.
“Jesus,” he said with terrible acting. “What happened?”
“I don’t know!”
Sonia stared at him.
“You call an ambulance.”
Vinnie looked at the gray-suited man.
The stranger subtly shook his head.
Then the restaurant lights went out.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Customers screamed.
Sonia heard the front door open.
Then several heavy footsteps.
Not running.
Entering.
A flashlight beam sliced through the darkness.
Then another.
Then six.
Vinnie’s voice cracked.
“Who the hell are you?”
A man answered from somewhere behind Sonia.
“People who were hoping you wouldn’t be this stupid.”
The emergency lights came on.
Six men in dark coats now stood inside Lombardi’s.
The first was broad-shouldered, silver-haired, and expressionless.
He looked toward the floor.
“Boss?”
Dante opened his eyes.
Vinnie went white.
Sonia stared.
Dante slowly rose, removed the filthy beanie, and pulled away part of the false beard.
His posture changed.
The exhausted stranger disappeared.
In his place stood a man who seemed to own every inch of oxygen in the room.
The silver-haired man lowered his head.
“Mr. Moretti.”
A plate slipped from Vinnie’s hand and shattered.
“No.”
Dante looked at him.
“Hello, Vincent.”
Vinnie backed away.
“No, no, no. You’re supposed to—”
“Die?”
Silence.
Dante picked up Sonia’s note.
He flattened it carefully against the table.
“You poisoned a man in his own restaurant.”
Vinnie’s lips trembled.
“I can explain.”
“I hope so.”
Dante glanced at Sonia.
For the first time, she understood why the name Moretti sounded familiar.
Moretti Properties.
Moretti Shipping.
Moretti Hospitality.
And darker rumors whispered across New York for decades.
Dante Moretti.
She had just saved a man people crossed streets to avoid.
Dante turned to his men.
“Lock the doors.”
Sonia’s blood chilled.
Vinnie began begging.
But Dante wasn’t looking at him anymore.
He was looking at the gray-suited stranger.
“You,” Dante said.
The man reached inside his jacket.
Everything happened at once.
Sonia saw metal.
A gun.
Dante’s men moved.
But Sonia was closer.
“Dante!”
She shoved him.
A gunshot cracked through the restaurant.
The mirror behind them exploded.
Dante hit the floor with Sonia beneath him.
His men overwhelmed the shooter within seconds.
Then silence returned.
Dante looked down.
Sonia’s face was inches from his.
“You saved me twice,” he said.
She swallowed.
“Apparently I make bad decisions when I’m tired.”
Something almost like amusement touched his eyes.
Then Vinnie shouted from across the room.
“You don’t understand! I wasn’t working alone!”
Dante’s expression hardened.
“Who?”
Vinnie stared at Sonia.
May you like
And smiled.
“Ask her father.”
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