Chapter 2 - The Price of Refusal
Sarah looked at the revolver for another three seconds.
Then she pushed it back across the table.
“No.”
The word landed harder than a gunshot.
Silas stopped smiling. Marco straightened. One of the women slowly lowered her champagne glass.
Lorenzo's expression didn't change.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
Sarah folded her hands in her lap to hide their trembling.
“I serve drinks. I don't play games with guns.”
Silas let out a nervous laugh. “Boss, I think your waitress misunderstood the rules.”
Sarah turned toward him.
“No, I understood perfectly. He wants to know whether I'll risk my life because he tells me to. The money is just decoration.”
Silas's smile vanished.
Lorenzo set down his glass.
“And what makes you think you can tell me what I want?”
“Nothing. But you asked me to pull a trigger, and I answered.”
She stood.
“Now, if you'll excuse me, I have customers waiting.”
Marco moved toward the door.
Sarah didn't retreat, but she didn't mistake courage for stupidity either. She knew she couldn't fight six armed men. Her advantage was that none of them seemed prepared for a woman who refused to behave as expected.
Lorenzo raised his hand.
Marco stopped.
“Let her go.”
Sarah walked to the door.
“Sarah.”
She turned.
“Your grandmother's name is Eleanor Miller, isn't it?”
Every drop of warmth disappeared from her face.
Lorenzo watched the change with unsettling attention.
“She receives dialysis at St. Catherine's. Two appointments a week. Your account is behind by six thousand dollars.”
Sarah's fingers curled around the door handle.
“How do you know that?”
“I make it my business to know things.”
“Then you should know my grandmother isn't part of whatever happens in this room.”
“No,” Lorenzo said. “But you are.”
Sarah left before he could see the fear she could no longer suppress.
She made it down the stairs, through the crowded club, and into the employee corridor before her phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number appeared on the screen.
YOUR GRANDMOTHER'S NEXT APPOINTMENT IS MONDAY. MAKE SURE SHE GETS THERE.
A second message followed.
SOME PEOPLE WOULD KILL TO HAVE YOUR OPPORTUNITIES. DON'T WASTE YOURS.
Sarah stared at the screen.
Then she noticed the attachment.
A photograph of Eleanor leaving the dialysis clinic that afternoon.
Someone had been watching her.
She called her grandmother immediately.
Eleanor answered on the fourth ring.
“Sweetheart? Everything all right?”
Sarah closed her eyes.
“Yeah, Grandma. Just checking on you.”
“You sound strange.”
“Long night.”
“Then come home and get some sleep. The world will still be ridiculous in the morning.”
Sarah almost laughed.
Instead, she asked whether anyone had approached Eleanor outside the clinic.
“No. Why?”
“Just making sure.”
When she ended the call, Sarah found Greg waiting beside the lockers.
He looked as though he'd been crying.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered.
“For what?”
He glanced toward the corridor cameras.
“They asked me questions about you. Your classes. Your grandmother. Your schedule.”
“Who did?”
Greg swallowed.
“Men from the Valenti organization.”
Sarah stepped closer.
“What did you tell them?”
“Everything they asked.”
She stared at him.
Greg shook his head desperately.
“I have a son, Sarah. They showed me his school picture. They knew where he slept. I didn't have a choice.”
Sarah wanted to hate him.
Instead, she recognized the same helplessness she had felt when she saw the photograph of Eleanor.
“Did you tell them anything else?”
Greg's eyes flickered toward the floor.
“There's something you need to know about the man who died Tuesday.”
“Ricky?”
He nodded.
“He wasn't supposed to die that night.”
Sarah felt the corridor tilt.
“What does that mean?”
Greg opened his mouth.
A gunshot cracked from the nightclub downstairs.
Someone screamed.
The lights flickered once.
Then every employee in the corridor heard Lorenzo Valenti's voice over the club's internal security system.
“Lock every exit.”
A pause.
“Someone in this building just betrayed me.”
Greg went white.
May you like
Sarah looked at him.
And understood, from the terror in his eyes, that he knew exactly who it was.
