2025-10-08 20:03:34The waiter returned moments later with plates, but instead of setting them down immediately, he placed a sleek black card folder on the table first.
“Mr. Alphonso,” he said quietly, “the manager wanted me to thank you again for last quarter’s donation. It made all the difference.”
Deborah’s breath caught, Donation? Quarter?
Chris didn’t blink. “Tell him it was nothing.”
The waiter nodded and left, Deborah whispered, “You donated to this place?”
“Not exactly.”
“What does not exactly mean?”
He leaned back, voice calm. “Let’s just say… this café exists because I wanted a quiet place to think.”
She gaped at him. “You own it?”
He tilted his head. “Half.”
Her pulse kicked. “Chris, what are you really doing here?”
He smiled, slow, deliberate. “Having breakfast with my future wife, apparently.”
The words hit her like static, too casual, too confident, too dangerous.
Deborah stared at him. “Future wife? Don’t flatter yourself.”
Chris raised his cup, took a slow sip. “You said it first.”
“I said pretend. Contract. Temporary.”
He set the cup down with a soft clink. “Temporary things tend to last longer than we plan.”
“Not this one.” She folded her arms. “You just turned my father into a paranoid wreck and you expect me to keep playing along?”
Chris’s smile vanished. “Your father called?”
She hesitated. “He said you’re dangerous. That no one really knows who you are.”
He nodded slowly. “He’s half right.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“Would you prefer a lie?”
“Yes,” she said, almost too quickly. “At least lies make sense.”
He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Then here’s one: I’m an ordinary man who owns half a café.”
“Cute,” she said, voice sharp. “But I’m done being played. Whatever game this is”
“It’s not a game,” he cut in, quiet but firm.
The tone in his voice made her stop.
He continued, “Your uncle? The one who mocked me? He’s been funneling funds from your father’s development branch for two years.”
She blinked. “What?”
Chris leaned back again, calm, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb in the middle of breakfast. “That’s why he reacted so fast. He recognized my name.”
“Recognized it how?”
“He’s been on my watch list.”
“Watch list?” she repeated. “Who even has one of those?”
He didn’t answer. She exhaled, frustrated. “You’re unbelievable. You talk in half-truths and riddles like some bored CEO.”
He smiled faintly. “Close enough.”
Her pulse stumbled. “You’re saying you are one?”
“I’m saying,” he said, lowering his voice, “you should probably decide whether you want the truth. Because once I start, you don’t get to unknow it.”
Her heart thudded once, hard. “What does that even mean?”
“Means,” he said, eyes locking on hers, “your family’s been standing in the shadow of mine for years. They just never looked up.”
The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. Deborah forced a shaky laugh. “You expect me to believe you’re some invisible tycoon? That’s ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous,” he agreed, “and true.”
She shoved her chair back. “I think we’re done.”
Chris didn’t move. “If you walk out now, your father’s company won’t survive six months.”
Her eyes snapped to him. “Are you threatening me?”
“No,” he said evenly. “I’m warning you.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You’re insane.”
He stood slowly, tossing a few bills on the table, The waiter appeared instantly, too quick again, like he’d been waiting for the cue.
Chris looked down at her. “Maybe. But insanity pays well.”, and with that, he walked toward the exit, every step measured, silent, composed, Deborah sat there, pulse hammering, staring after him. She didn’t know what scared her more, his words or how much of her wanted to believe them.
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Chapter 9 – The Silence After
The world was gray when Deborah opened her eyes. The storm had passed, leaving behind the heavy silence that follows destruction. The cabin smelled of wet ash and old wood.Every sound, the drip from the eaves, the creak of the boards beneath her, felt amplified in the stillness, she sat up slowly. Her neck ached, the blanket clung damply to her shoulders. Across the room, Chris was still by the window, standing exactly where she’d last seen him. Motionless.A silhouette cut against the pale light leaking through the cracks in the shutters. “Did you even sleep?” she asked.He didn’t turn. “No.”“Did they come back?”“No.” A pause. “But they didn’t leave either.”Her heart gave a small, uneasy lurch. “What does that mean?”He finally looked at her. His eyes were rimmed with fatigue but alert, too alert for someone who’d spent the night standing guard. “Means they were close enough to make us believe we were alone.”Deborah stood, wrapping the blanket tighter around herself. The air was
Chapter 8 – Into the Rain
Rain slammed against the windshield like a thousand tiny fists, the wipers thrashed, useless against the downpour. The road had long since turned to a ribbon of blurred light and black asphalt.Deborah’s fingers dug into the dashboard as Chris fought to keep the car straight. “Can’t see a damn thing,” he muttered, squinting through the streaks.“Just drive!” she shot back, breath sharp with adrenaline. Her pulse still hadn’t slowed since the gunfire. The diner’s neon lights were already swallowed by the storm behind them.A curve appeared too late. The car skidded, tires screaming, fishtailed, and stopped inches from a ditch. Steam rose from the hood. They both sat frozen, the world reduced to the hiss of rain and the ticking of the cooling engine.Then, another sound, a distant hum, Headlights, faint and flickering, far down the road. Deborah’s voice was barely audible. “They’re still coming.”Chris turned off the lights, killed the engine. “Out,” he said simply. “Now.”The air hit t
Chapter 7 – The Diner
The storm had settled into a steady drizzle by the time they left the highway. A neon sign buzzed weakly ahead, half the letters flickering out so that DINER read like D—ER. Chris slowed, glancing at Deborah from the corner of his eye.She hadn’t said a word since the men with the falcon crest. The silence between them felt heavier than the rain.The parking lot was almost empty, two cars, both dark, both slick with rain, the place looked harmless enough. A row of booths visible through steamed-over glass, a waitress wiping the counter, the hum of a fridge motor cutting through the quiet.Chris killed the engine. “We’ll rest here,” he said.Deborah opened her door before he could add anything. “I’ll take a coffee,” she muttered, stepping out into the wet air. Her heels clicked against the asphalt, echoing across the empty lot. She didn’t look back.Inside, the diner smelled of burnt coffee and bleach. The waitress, gray hair piled in a bun, gave them a polite nod. “Kitchen’s closing i
Chapter 6B -- Collision Course
The car rolled forward through the rain, the city lights stretching ahead like a line of ghosts. In the mirror, nothing followed, but Deborah couldn’t shake the feeling that the game hadn’t stopped. It had only changed shape.Rain streaked across the windshield in long, liquid ribbons. Deborah’s breath fogged the glass as the world outside bled into motionless gray. Chris’s unfinished sentence hung in the air, His voice was quiet but ti…, then swallowed by the hum of idling engines.She blinked, trying to focus, but the adrenaline still thundered in her veins. Two black SUVs sat at crooked angles on the wet road behind them, their high beams slicing through the mist. Shadows shifted inside, three, maybe four figures stepping out.Chris’s hand was already on the door handle. “Stay here,” he said, voice low, almost mechanical.“Like hell I will,” she snapped, fumbling with her own belt. Her pulse tripped over itself. She barely registered the slam of his door before she was outside, ra
Chapter 6A – Collision Course
Rain turned the city into streaks of silver and noise. Deborah’s windshield wipers could barely keep up, the headlights behind her grew larger, whiter, closing fast. “Not again,” she whispered.Her tires hissed as she swerved across lanes. The car behind mirrored every move. Its lights flickered once, almost like a signal. She hit the gas, heart pounding. The steering wheel trembled beneath her hands.Then, another flash. To her right, a second car appeared. Black, unmarked, gliding into position like it had been waiting for her.“This isn’t happening,” she muttered.She took the next turn hard. The tires screamed. The sedan fishtailed, nearly clipping the median before she corrected. The mirror filled with white light, two vehicles closing in.Her phone vibrated on the passenger seat. She snatched it up without looking at the screen. “Who are you?” she shouted. “What do you want from me?”A man’s voice came through, calm, unhurried. “Pull over, Deborah. You’re making this harder than
Chapter 5 – Shadows in the Rearview
Rain slicked the road, turning the city into a blur of neon and reflection. Deborah’s hands clenched the steering wheel so hard her knuckles whitened.Her phone still glowed on the seat beside her, Chris’s last message: Games end, This doesn’t.She hit delete, It didn’t help, she checked the mirror, nothing but wet asphalt and a trail of headlights behind her.“Breathe,” she whispered to herself. “You’re not paranoid. You’re just careful.” but then, one car stayed exactly three lengths behind, Every turn. Every light. Every lane change.Her pulse kicked up. “No,” she murmured. “Coincidence.”She accelerated, cutting across traffic. The car behind her did the same. Her phone buzzed again.Unknown: You’re driving too fast. Slow down.Deborah’s blood went cold. She dropped the phone. “What”The message pinged again.Unknown: Left lane. Now.A black SUV appeared suddenly beside her, sleek, tinted, same as Chris’s, but not his plate. Her mind raced. Is this him? Or someone else entirely?T
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