Chapter 2 - The Shadows Gathering in Tribeca
Sophia stood by the dishwashing station, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
The cold metal counter offered no comfort as she tried to catch her breath after leaving table twelve.
Her hands were still shaking from the encounter, smelling faintly of butter, parmesan, and lemon peel.
Through the narrow glass window of the kitchen doors, she watched the Moretti table finish their meal.
For the first time all evening, Elena Moretti looked entirely at peace, quietly eating every drop of the pastina.
Dante sat beside her, silent, watchful, his heavy dark eyes fixed firmly on the swinging doors of the kitchen.
His bodyguard, Enzo, stepped closer to Dante, bending down to listen as Dante muttered a low, sharp command.
Sophia didn't need to be a mind reader to know that command was centered entirely on her identity.
"You're playing with fire, Sophia," her manager, Marco, muttered as he slid past her with a tray of polished glasses.
"The Moretti family doesn't just give out second chances or pay polite compliments to waitstaff."
"I just made soup for an old woman who was homesick, Marco," Sophia replied, keeping her voice as steady as possible.
"That old woman's husband ran the entire Lower East Side for forty years before he died," Marco warned darkly.
"And her son runs everything else from Brooklyn to Queens with an iron fist."
Sophia wiped down her apron, ignoring the cold chill spreading across her neck.
When the clock finally struck midnight, Veluto’s grand dining room was empty, save for the cleaning staff.
Sophia changed into her worn denim jacket and walked out the back entrance into the damp Tribeca alleyway.
The cool autumn air of Manhattan bit at her face as she wrapped her scarf tightly around her throat.
She took three steps toward the subway station before realizing she wasn't walking alone in the dark.
A heavy black SUV sat idling at the curb, its tinted windows reflecting the yellow glow of the streetlights.
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The rear door slid open quietly, revealing the broad shoulders and dark, tattooed neck of Dante Moretti.
"Get in, Sophia," he said, his deep voice carrying effortless authority through the quiet midnight street.
