Chapter 3 - The Shadow over St. Jude’s
I left the diner at 1:00 a.m. with three hundred dollars in tips that Dominic had left in the metal tray—a sum I couldn't afford to leave behind, no matter how much my pride screamed at me to burn it.
The streets were slick with fresh rain. As I walked the six blocks toward my apartment, a single black SUV trailed fifty yards behind me, its headlights dimmed to low beams, crawling like a panther along the curb.
I didn't look back. I couldn't.
When I reached the cracked front door of my building, I took the stairs two at a time. Inside my small, two-room apartment, my elderly neighbor, Mrs. Gable, was sleeping in the armchair beside Lily’s bed.
I tucked the blanket around my six-year-old daughter, tracing her soft cheek with my thumb. She looked so small under the faded quilt, her tiny chest rising and falling in steady, innocent rhythm.
In the eyes of my enemies, you belong to me.
Dominic’s words rang in my ears like a funeral bell.
The next morning at 7:45 a.m., I walked Lily to St. Jude’s Elementary.
The rain had cleared, leaving the sky a stark, bruised grey. As we approached the iron gates of the schoolyard, a silver sedan pulled up to the curb.
The window rolled down. A man with a thick neck and a heavy gold chain resting over a leather jacket looked out.
"Emma Vance?" he called out.
I pulled Lily behind my back instantly. "Who are you?"
"Landlord sent me," the man sneered, flashing a yellowed smile. "Mr. Vance says you're behind on the deposit increase. Says you've got till six tonight to clear out, or we dump your stuff on the curb."
"The lease says I have thirty days!" I shouted, holding Lily’s small hand so tightly her fingers twitched.
"Lease changed," the man laughed, flexing his broad shoulders. "And Mr. Vance heard you've got rich friends now. Tell your benefactor to pay up, or your little girl won't have a roof over her head tonight."
Before I could answer, the black SUV from the diner pulled smoothly up behind the silver sedan, blocking its rear bumper.
Two men in charcoal suits stepped out.
They didn't pull weapons. They didn't shout. They simply walked to the driver’s window of the silver sedan, leaned down, and whispered five words into the driver's ear.
The driver’s face turned gray. He rolled his window up so fast it nearly caught his fingers, threw his car into reverse, mounted the curb, and sped away down the avenue like he had seen a demon.
May you like
One of the men in suits turned to me, touching the brim of his hat.
"Mr. Salvatore sends his regards, Miss Vance," he said politely. "The car is waiting whenever you're ready."
