THE POOR CAFÉ WAITRESS SAVED AN OLD WOMAN FROM THE RAIN—THE NEXT MORNING, HER MAFIA SON SEALED THE GATES AND SAID, “THEY’RE COMING FOR YOU.”
The morning after I helped a mysterious elderly woman in the rain, three black SUVs pulled up outside the small diner where I worked.
Six men in dark suits stepped through the front door.
The entire room fell silent. One of them walked straight toward my counter. “Are you Nora Bell?”
I swallowed hard. “Yes.” “You need to come with us.” My manager immediately stepped between us.
“She can’t leave. She’s working.” The man didn’t even blink. “Not anymore.” A chill ran through me.
Twenty-four hours earlier, I had been nothing more than an exhausted waitress trying to finish my shift.
Then I saw an old woman outside.
She was standing helplessly in the pouring rain, struggling with several grocery bags.
One of the bags tore, and oranges scattered across the flooded sidewalk, with some rolling dangerously close to the road.
People passed without stopping. I couldn’t.
I grabbed an umbrella, gathered the groceries, and helped the woman reach a dark sedan waiting near the curb.
Before she got inside, she held out several bills. I shook my head. “Please keep it. You probably need it more than I do.”
She looked at me for a long moment. Then she smiled. “You have no idea what that kindness might cost you.”
I thought it was an odd joke. Now, sitting inside one of those black SUVs, I realized she had been warning me.
We eventually stopped in front of a massive estate hidden behind towering iron gates.
Security cameras covered the walls, and armed guards stood near the entrance. Inside, the same elderly woman was waiting.
“Nora,” she said warmly. “My name is Eleanor Vieri.”
Before I could ask why I was there, footsteps echoed across the marble floor. A tall man entered the room.
He appeared to be in his early forties. His black suit was perfectly tailored, and a thin scar cut through one eyebrow.
“My son, Adrian,” Eleanor said. Adrian studied me carefully. “You helped my mother yesterday.”
“She needed someone to help her.” “You didn’t ask who she was?” “No.” “Why not?” I shrugged.
“Because she was alone in the rain.” For the first time, his expression changed. Something almost like respect appeared in his eyes.
Then his phone rang. He answered. Whatever warmth had been there disappeared instantly.
“Lock down the estate,” he ordered. “No one gets in or out.” I stared at him.
“Why?” Adrian ended the call and looked directly at me. “Someone followed you yesterday.” My stomach tightened.
“Who?” “We’re still trying to identify them.” “Then why did you bring me here?” “Because they aren’t watching my mother anymore.”
He slid a photograph across the table. It showed me standing beside Eleanor outside the diner.
My blood ran cold. “They’ve been tracking you,” Adrian said. My thoughts immediately went to my younger sister, Emma.
She was supposed to be home alone. “I need to call her.” “You don’t have to.”
I looked at him. “Why?” “She’s already here.” My heart stopped. “What did you say?” A door opened behind me.
Emma walked into the room accompanied by two security guards. “Emma!” I ran to her and wrapped my arms around her.
She was safe. But the relief lasted only a few seconds.
Adrian stepped closer. “We found a man near your apartment last night.”
My arms tightened around my sister. “What did he want?” Instead of answering, Adrian placed another photograph on the table.
I looked at it. And everything inside me froze. It was my father. The man who had vanished from our lives fifteen years ago.
“That isn’t possible.” Eleanor suddenly went pale. “You never told us your father’s name,” she whispered.
“I didn’t think it was important.” Adrian turned the photograph over.
Six words had been written across the back: THE GIRL DOESN’T KNOW WHO SHE IS.
Nobody spoke. I looked at Eleanor. Then at Adrian. “What does that mean?” Eleanor slowly lowered herself into a chair.
“Your father wasn’t the man you believed him to be.” Adrian’s expression hardened.
“And whoever took this photograph knows exactly who you are.” A cold realization spread through me.
I hadn’t been brought to the mansion because I had rescued Eleanor.
That was only the excuse.
Someone had been searching for me for fifteen years.
And somehow, they had finally found me.
But the real question was—why?*
