Chapter 1 - The Photograph
The man with the scar across his cheek stared at the old photograph on the wall, completely ignoring the terrified whispers of the restaurant staff.
He looked back at me, his dark eyes analyzing every single feature of my face.
The baby in my arms cooed softly, pressing his tiny cheek against my collarbone.
My manager, Marco, stood frozen behind the bar, his hands trembling violently.
"Who is the woman in this picture?" the man demanded, his voice dangerously calm.
Marco swallowed hard, refusing to make eye contact with the towering mob boss.
"That is my niece, Isabella," Marco stammered out.
The man stepped closer to the bar, his massive frame radiating pure intimidation.
"Isabella died six months ago in a car bombing," the man stated coldly.
Marco nodded nervously, gripping a white rag in his shaking hands.
The man turned his terrifying gaze back to me.
"So how is it possible that this waitress has the exact same face?" he asked.
I held the baby tighter, my heart hammering desperately against my ribs.
"I am just a waitress, my name is Elina Valdez," I pleaded.
The man reached out and gently traced a finger along my jawline.
"My son does not go to strangers, Elina," he whispered.
Before I could back away from his touch, the front windows of the restaurant shattered inward.
A massive black SUV crashed through the glass, crushing empty tables beneath its heavy tires.
Four men in tactical gear poured out of the vehicle, raising automatic weapons toward the dining room.
May you like
They did not aim at the dangerous mafia boss standing in front of me.
Every single weapon was pointed directly at my chest.
