Chapter 2 - Damian Offered Me Protection, but I Refused His Money—Until Someone from My Past Came Looking for MeI tore up the letter.
At least, I tried to.
The paper was thicker than I expected.
I stopped halfway.
There was something else inside.
A hospital bill.
Paid.
Every cent.
My mother's entire cardiac rehabilitation balance.
I stared at it.
“No.”
I walked to the administration desk.
“This was paid by mistake.”
The clerk checked.
“No mistake.”
“Who paid it?”
The clerk looked at the account.
“Anonymous.”
I knew immediately.
I called the number on Damian's card.
He answered on the first ring.
“Hello.”
“You paid my mother's bill.”
“Yes.”
“I don't need your money.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
“Because I needed something to be fair.”
“What?”
“You took a blow for my daughter.”
“I would have done that for anyone.”
“I know.”
“So why pay me?”
“Because most people wouldn't.”
I didn't know what to say.
He continued:
“Your mother needs care.”
“You investigated me.”
“Yes.”
“That should scare me.”
“It probably should.”
I almost laughed.
“You're honest.”
“I've found it saves time.”
Silence.
Then he said:
“Come to my office.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I don't need another powerful man deciding what happens to me.”
There was a pause.
“I respect that.”
I expected him to argue.
He didn't.
That surprised me.
“Goodbye, Mr. Valdez.”
“Tessa.”
I froze.
“Yes?”
“Keep the number.”
“Why?”
“You may need it.”
I hung up.
Three days later, I did.
I arrived at the hospital late after my shift.
My mother's room was dark.
I opened the door.
She was awake.
“You're late.”
“I had work.”
A smile.
“You always do.”
I sat beside her.
She looked at my lip.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
She frowned.
“I raised you better than that.”
I laughed softly.
“Someone was rude.”
“Did you fight?”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“You're lying.”
I didn't answer.
Then she saw the black card in my pocket.
“What's that?”
I froze.
“Nothing.”
She took it.
Her eyes widened.
“Where did you get this?”
“Mom?”
“Where?”
“At the restaurant.”
She looked frightened.
“Throw it away.”
“Why?”
“Because men like Damian Valdez don't protect people for free.”
“I know.”
“Then don't get close.”
I nodded.
I didn't know she was afraid of him.
I thought she was simply worried.
I didn't ask.
That night, I returned to my apartment.
There was a car parked outside.
I stopped.
The engine was off.
The windows were dark.
I walked past.
The driver's door opened.
A man stepped out.
My blood froze.
I knew him.
Marcus Navarro.
My older brother.
I hadn't seen him in four years.
“You look good,” he said.
I couldn't breathe.
“What are you doing here?”
“I need money.”
Of course.
My brother had disappeared after stealing from the wrong people.
Our mother believed he was dead.
I had never told her otherwise.
“Leave.”
“You have money now.”
“I don't.”
“You're working at the Onyx Room.”
“That doesn't mean I'm rich.”
He glanced at my pocket.
“Valdez.”
My stomach turned.
“How do you know his name?”
“Everyone knows him.”
“Stay away from him.”
Marcus laughed.
“That's funny.”
“What?”
“You should be the one staying away.”
I stepped backward.
“Why?”
“Because he's asking questions about you.”
My heart stopped.
“What questions?”
“Your father.”
I froze.
Our father had died when I was fifteen.
Marcus continued:
“He wants to know what happened to the Navarro shipping company.”
I stared.
“How would he know?”
Marcus smiled.
“Because Valdez knows more about our family than you do.”
He left before I could ask more.
I stood outside my apartment for a long time.
Then I called Damian.
He answered immediately.
“What happened?”
“How do you know something happened?”
“You sound frightened.”
“My brother came.”
“Marcus?”
I froze.
“How did you know his name?”
“I told you I investigated.”
“What did you find?”
“Enough to know you're in danger.”
“From him?”
“From the people he owes.”
I swallowed.
“Who?”
“Gideon Ross.”
The name meant something.
My father had mentioned it once.
A rival shipping magnate.
A man accused of laundering money.
My father had refused to do business with him.
Three months later, our company collapsed.
Two years later, my father died.
I looked toward the street.
“Why are you helping me?”
“Because I owe your father.”
“How?”
“He saved my life.”
I sat down.
“My father knew you?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I'll tell you.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“No.”
“Tomorrow, then.”
“Still no.”
A pause.
Then:
“Tessa, whoever Marcus is working for knows you exist.”
I closed my eyes.
“What do they want?”
“The Navarro shipping records.”
“I don't have them.”
“They think you do.”
“Do I?”
“I don't know.”
That answer frightened me.
Because suddenly I realized my father had never explained why he'd kept certain documents locked away.
I hung up.
Then I opened my mother's old trunk.
There was a false bottom.
Inside was a key.
And a note.
For Tessa, when you're old enough to understand.
I stared at it.
The note had my father's handwriting.
I cried.
He had left me something.
Something my mother had never mentioned.
Something Damian apparently wanted.
May you like
Something dangerous enough that men were coming back into my life after years.
And I had no idea what it opened.
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