Maya dropped behind the bar.
Someone screamed.
Glass shattered.
Then came two gunshots.
Luca grabbed her.
“Stay down.”
“Carlo—”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
Another shot.
Emergency lights flickered on.
Carlo was gone.
So were two of his men.
Maya looked toward Booth 9.
Empty.
The attack had not been meant for Dominic.
It had been meant for her.
Luca realized it at the same moment.
“We’re leaving.”
“I’m working.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Mostly.”
He pulled her toward the kitchen exit.
A man stepped through the doorway.
Maya recognized him from Carlo’s group.
Luca moved instantly.
The confrontation was short and brutal.
Maya backed away.
The man fled through another door before Luca could stop him.
Minutes later, Dominic arrived.
He crossed the restaurant like a storm.
His eyes found Maya.
Then Luca.
“What happened?”
“Carlo came.”
Dominic’s face hardened.
Maya interrupted.
“He spoke French to me.”
“What did he say?”
“That I should have stayed ignorant.”
Dominic became completely still.
That was when Maya understood.
Carlo knew about Victor.
He knew Maya had overheard the conversation.
He knew everything.
Dominic ordered the restaurant cleared.
Henry protested until Dominic looked at him.
Then Henry stopped protesting.
Maya sat at an empty table while Luca explained.
Dominic paced.
Finally, Maya said, “Stop.”
He looked at her.
“You’re making me nervous.”
“I’m making you nervous?”
“Yes.”
“Someone tried to kill you.”
“And your pacing is not reversing that.”
Dominic sat.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Maya asked, “Why does Carlo want you dead?”
“Power.”
“That simple?”
“No.”
“Then tell me.”
Dominic stared at his hands.
“My father intended to hand control to Carlo.”
“What changed?”
“My sister died.”
Maya waited.
“My father blamed himself. He started drinking. Carlo began making decisions.”
Dominic’s voice remained controlled, but pain lived beneath it.
“Then I discovered Carlo was stealing.”
“How much?”
“Millions.”
“You exposed him?”
“Yes.”
“And your father chose you.”
“Yes.”
Maya understood.
Carlo had spent years believing the empire was his.
Dominic had taken it.
Whether Dominic wanted it or not.
“Did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Want it?”
Dominic looked at her.
Nobody had apparently asked him that.
“No.”
The answer surprised her.
“What did you want?”
He almost laughed.
“That question is about fifteen years late.”
“Answer it anyway.”
Dominic leaned back.
“To build things.”
“What?”
“Houses.”
Maya blinked.
“You wanted to be a contractor?”
“Architect.”
She stared.
He looked almost embarrassed.
Maya smiled.
“Dominic Russo, terrifying architecture student.”
“I had drawings.”
“I need to see those.”
“They were terrible.”
“Now I definitely need to see them.”
He smiled.
The moment was so unexpectedly normal that Maya forgot who he was.
Then Henry approached.
“Maya.”
She turned.
He looked uncomfortable.
“I need to speak with you.”
“What?”
“You’re suspended.”
Dominic stood.
Maya lifted a hand.
“No.”
He stopped.
She faced Henry.
“For what?”
“Three violent incidents have now been connected to you.”
“Connected to me?”
“Customers are frightened.”
“Someone tried to shoot me.”
“I understand.”
“No, you don’t.”
Henry looked ashamed.
“The owners made the decision.”
Maya stared at him.
“Fine.”
She removed her apron.
Again.
This time she did not feel angry.
Just tired.
Dominic followed her outside.
“You can work for me.”
She laughed.
“No.”
“I’m serious.”
“That makes it worse.”
“I need a translator.”
“You have translators.”
“Not ones I trust.”
Maya stopped beneath the awning.
Rain fell beyond them.
“You trust me?”
“You warned me when walking away would have been easier.”
“I didn’t do it for you.”
“Why then?”
“Because letting somebody die when I could prevent it would have made me someone I don’t want to be.”
Dominic stared at her.
“That’s exactly why I trust you.”
Maya looked away.
“I need a job.”
“I’m offering one.”
“What would I translate?”
“Meetings. Documents. Calls.”
“Criminal meetings?”
“Sometimes.”
“No.”
“Business meetings?”
“Define business.”
“Legal.”
His silence answered.
Maya shook her head.
“I’m not becoming part of your organization.”
“I’m trying to leave it.”
She looked at him.
“What?”
Dominic lowered his voice.
“My father built something I inherited. I’ve spent years trying to convert the legitimate pieces into something that can survive without the rest.”
“Does Carlo know?”
“He suspects.”
“That’s why he’s moving now.”
“Yes.”
Everything shifted.
Carlo was not merely fighting for control.
He was fighting to preserve the criminal empire Dominic intended to dismantle.
“Help me,” Dominic said.
Maya stared at him.
“With what?”
“Find the traitor inside my organization.”
“I’m a waitress.”
“You’re a waitress who understood three conversations my men missed.”
“That doesn’t make me a detective.”
“No. But people speak freely around people they consider invisible.”
The word hurt because it was true.
Maya had spent years being invisible.
Perhaps invisibility could become power.
“One week,” she said.
Dominic’s eyebrows rose.
“One?”
“One week. Legal translation only. I don’t carry weapons. I don’t threaten people. I don’t hide bodies.”
Luca, standing nearby, muttered, “Very restrictive.”
Maya looked at him.
He raised both hands.
“Just saying.”
Dominic smiled.
“Deal.”
During the next four days, Maya discovered something strange.
Dominic Russo listened to her.
Not always.
But more than anyone else seemed willing to.
She translated shipping manifests.
Emails.
Contracts.
Recorded calls.
Most were legitimate.
Some were deliberately vague.
Then she found something.
A repeated phrase in French invoices.
Black roses.
It appeared beside shipments that had nothing to do with flowers.
Maya brought the documents to Dominic.
“What’s this?”
He looked.
His expression changed.
“I don’t know.”
“You should.”
“Why?”
“The phrase appears seventeen times.”
Luca entered.
Dominic showed him.
Luca frowned.
“Never seen it.”
Maya pulled another document.
“The invoices were approved by someone using the initials L.R.”
Dominic looked at Luca.
Luca’s face went pale.
His full name was Luca Romano.
“No,” Luca said.
Dominic stood.
Maya immediately stepped between them.
“Wait.”
Dominic’s eyes were cold.
“The initials—”
“Are too obvious.”
“Maya.”
“If Luca were secretly betraying you, why sign his initials seventeen times?”
Luca nodded.
“I like her.”
Dominic ignored him.
Maya continued.
“Someone wants you to find these.”
Dominic stared at the documents.
“A frame.”
“Yes.”
“Against Luca.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because whoever is doing this needs you isolated.”
Silence.
Then Maya noticed something.
The invoices were printed on expensive ivory paper.
One corner carried a faint watermark.
She held it toward the lamp.
OBSIDIAN HOLDINGS.
Her stomach tightened.
“Dominic.”
“What?”
“These weren’t printed at your office.”
“How do you know?”
“The Obsidian Room uses this paper for private event contracts.”
Dominic stared.
“The restaurant?”
Maya nodded.
“Someone inside the restaurant is involved.”
They drove there immediately.
Henry was gone.
His office was empty.
Drawers open.
Computer missing.
Maya felt sick.
“No.”
Dominic searched the desk.
Luca checked the security system.
Maya opened a cabinet.
Inside was a photograph.
She pulled it out.
Henry stood beside Carlo Russo.
The photograph was fifteen years old.
They were younger.
Behind them stood Dominic’s father.
And beside him was Maya’s mother.
Maya stopped breathing.
Dominic took the photograph.
“You know her?”
Maya could barely speak.
“That’s my mother.”
Dominic looked at her.
Maya turned the photograph over.
On the back, someone had written:
NAPLES, 2009.
Below it were four words.
She knows what Carlo did.