Chapter 2 - The Price of Protection
By 2:00 p.m., the dinner rush preparation was in full swing upstairs, but Elena was no longer working the line.
Dominick had ordered Marco, the head chef, to reassign Elena to the private executive prep kitchen located on the second floor—a sunlit, stainless-steel space far away from the chaotic main kitchen and hidden from public view.
Lily’s crib—a brand-new, high-end portable playpen brought in through the alley doors by one of Dominick’s guards—sat safely in the corner of the prep room, stocked with fresh formula, diapers, and a plush stuffed bear that still had the store tags attached.
Elena stood at the prep counter, her hands deftly dicing truffles for the evening's VIP reservation, her eyes darting every thirty seconds toward her sleeping daughter.
The heavy door opened, and Dominick walked in, accompanied by his chief of security, a tall, scarred man named Frank.
"She’s sleeping," Elena said quietly, stepping back from the counter.
Dominick glanced at the playpen, then looked at Elena. "She’s safe here. Frank’s men guard both entrances to this floor. No one enters without my personal clearance."
"Why are you doing this?" Elena asked, unable to contain the question any longer. "The stories about you... people say you're a monster, Mr. Blackwell."
Frank stepped forward with a scowl, but Dominick raised a hand, stopping him.
A faint, bitter smile touched the corner of Dominick’s mouth. "Monsters are useful in Chicago, Elena. They keep the worse things at bay. But to answer your question: twenty-two years ago, my sister was a single mother working two jobs in this city. She had no help, no money, and no choices. She died in a tenement fire because her landlord refused to fix the heating."
He walked over to the window, looking out at the heavy snow blanketing Michigan Avenue.
"I built this empire so no woman in my bloodline would ever suffer like that again," Dominick said softly. "When I saw you kneeling on that rug today, holding your hands out to protect your daughter... I didn't see an employee breaking rules. I saw my sister."
Elena felt a lump form in her throat. The cold, ruthless reputation of the man sitting before her suddenly cracked, revealing a deep, unyielding scar beneath the armor.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Don't thank me yet," Dominick turned back, his expression hardening back into stone. "Protection in my world isn't free. Tonight, a man named Senator Thomas Vance is dining in Private Suite A. He is currently negotiating a real estate deal that will demolish three blocks of low-income housing in Pilsen—including the apartment building where you and your daughter live."
Elena froze, her hands gripping the edge of the prep table. "They're tearing down my building?"
"Vance is being bribed by the Moretti family," Dominick explained, pulling a small silver USB drive from his pocket and laying it on the counter. "They need Vance’s vote on the zoning board tomorrow morning. Vance is extremely paranoid. He sweeps every room for recording devices and doesn't allow male servers anywhere near his table."
He looked directly into Elena’s eyes.
"You will serve Private Suite A tonight," Dominick commanded softly. "While you are pouring his wine, you will insert this drive into the digital audio recorder mounted beneath the service cart near his table. It will copy his private conversation automatically."
Elena stared at the shiny piece of metal. "And if I get caught?"
"If you get caught," Frank growled from the door, "you go to prison for corporate espionage, and your baby goes into state custody."
Dominick glared at Frank, then looked back at Elena. "You won't get caught. Frank will be monitoring the room via the security feed. Do this for me, Elena, and your rent is paid for the next year. Your building will be bought by my foundation, and your apartment will be secured permanently. Your daughter will never want for anything."
Elena looked at the tiny USB drive, then at her baby sleeping peacefully in the plush playpen.
May you like
She wasn't just a line cook anymore. She was stepping onto a tightrope stretched over a pit of wolves.
"Give me the apron," Elena said.
