Chapter 2 - The Boss Who Couldn't Stop Listening To Her
By sunrise, Alessio knew more about Nari Cook than Nari had ever wanted anyone to know.
She had no criminal record.
No dangerous relatives.
No hidden bank accounts.
No secret boyfriend.
No mysterious property.
No outstanding warrants.
She was, on paper, painfully ordinary.
Twenty-eight years old.
Born in Manchester.
Moved to New York at nine.
Mother deceased.
Father unknown.
High school graduate.
No college.
No stable employment history.
Waitress.
Hotel housekeeper.
Factory packer.
Call center employee.
Diner cashier.
Night cleaner.
Her current apartment was a rent-controlled one-bedroom in Queens with peeling paint and a broken heating unit.
Her bank balance, according to a report Alessio read and immediately hated, was less than six hundred dollars.
Yet she spoke eight languages.
Fluently.
She had never attended university.
Alessio sat alone in his office with the report open before him.
"Something is missing."
Mercer, his chief of security, stood nearby.
"We searched twice."
"Then search a third time."
"There isn't much."
"Exactly."
Mercer looked down at the report.
"No school records after high school. No language certification. No travel records."
Alessio's eyes narrowed.
"She learned all eight languages somehow."
Mercer hesitated.
"Maybe she's just gifted."
"People don't become fluent in Russian and Arabic by watching television."
Mercer didn't argue.
Alessio closed the folder.
"Where is she?"
"Working downstairs."
"At six in the morning?"
"She has another shift."
Alessio's jaw tightened.
"Another?"
"She works at a diner from ten in the morning until six."
"Then comes here."
"Yes."
"Every day?"
"Six days a week."
Alessio stared at the window.
He suddenly understood the circles beneath her eyes.
"Why?"
"Money."
"How much does she make?"
Mercer hesitated.
"Not enough."
Alessio picked up his phone.
"Increase her pay."
Mercer looked surprised.
"How?"
"Quietly."
"How quietly?"
"She shouldn't know it came from me."
Mercer nodded.
"Understood."
Alessio's eyes returned to the folder.
"No."
Mercer stopped.
"Don't."
"Sir?"
"Don't pay her."
Mercer blinked.
Alessio closed the folder.
"If she is as smart as she appears, she'll find out."
"So what do you want to do?"
Alessio looked toward the city.
"I want to know why she knows things she shouldn't."
That afternoon, Nari arrived at Franks Corporation wearing the same blue uniform.
She had barely entered the service corridor when a voice stopped her.
"Miss Cook."
She turned.
Alessio stood several feet away.
Her stomach dropped.
She hadn't expected to see him.
"You work downstairs," he said.
"Technically."
"Can I ask you something?"
"I have a trash schedule."
He almost smiled.
"Walk with me."
She hesitated.
Then followed.
They entered his private office.
It was enormous.
Floor-to-ceiling glass.
Dark wood.
A piano in the corner.
Bookshelves.
No photographs.
No family pictures.
No signs that anyone lived there.
Alessio gestured toward a chair.
She sat.
"You know what is strange about you?"
"Several things, probably."
"You don't seem impressed by money."
"I clean it."
He laughed.
"The building."
"Also true."
He sat opposite her.
"Where did you learn French?"
"France."
"When?"
"Childhood."
"Russian?"
"Moscow."
"Arabic?"
"Beirut."
"German?"
"Berlin."
His eyebrow rose.
"Do you have family scattered across Europe?"
"My mother moved a lot."
"Why?"
Nari looked down.
"She was running from someone."
The humor left his face.
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"She never told you?"
"Not directly."
"What did she do?"
"She survived."
Alessio studied her.
"Is that what you learned from her?"
Nari shrugged.
"Mostly."
He leaned back.
"Why don't you use your languages professionally?"
She laughed.
"I tried."
"And?"
"People wanted a diploma."
He looked at her.
"You don't have one."
"No."
"Why?"
"I couldn't afford one."
The answer was simple.
But Alessio heard the bitterness underneath.
"You could have applied for scholarships."
"I was busy working."
"Why?"
"Rent."
He nodded slowly.
Then there was a knock.
Mercer entered.
"Sorry."
He handed Alessio a folder.
Alessio opened it.
His expression changed.
Nari noticed.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Then why did your breathing change?"
Mercer stared.
Nari looked at him.
"You were holding your breath."
Mercer looked at Alessio.
Alessio almost smiled.
"Tell her."
Mercer handed Nari a photograph.
She touched the raised edge.
"What am I looking at?"
"A man."
"Who?"
"Anton Bellini."
Nari frowned.
"Why?"
"He just landed in New York."
She handed the photograph back.
"And?"
"He speaks eight languages."
Nari laughed softly.
"That's not rare."
"No."
Alessio's voice became quiet.
"But he works for a rival."
Nari's smile disappeared.
"What rival?"
"Bellini's family."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because he was seen talking to a man who works for Jean-Luc Navarro."
Her mind immediately returned to the conference room.
"If Navarro breaks the agreement..."
"Exactly."
Nari stood.
"I've done my part."
Alessio looked up.
"Not yet."
"What do you want?"
"Translate something."
He played an audio recording.
Nari listened.
A man's voice.
Italian.
The accent was regional.
She frowned.
"That isn't Italian."
Alessio raised an eyebrow.
"Really?"
"It's Neapolitan."
Mercer looked impressed.
Nari listened again.
"He's saying the shipment is compromised."
Alessio went still.
"Anything else?"
She replayed it.
"Someone named Luca."
"That's it?"
"No."
She listened.
"He's using an old phrase."
"What does it mean?"
"It means 'the fox has entered the kitchen.'"
Alessio frowned.
"And?"
"It's an old code."
"For what?"
"An insider."
Silence.
Alessio leaned forward.
"Inside Franks Corporation?"
"Yes."
His expression hardened.
"How sure are you?"
"Completely."
Alessio stood.
"Mercer."
"Already moving."
Nari started toward the door.
"Wait."
She turned.
"Did you understand everything?"
"Yes."
"Even the slang?"
"Yes."
"How?"
Nari's expression changed.
"It's how I survived."
He looked at her for a long time.
Then said quietly:
"That's what I'm trying to understand."
She left.
Three hours later, a senior Franks executive was arrested for selling information.
Nari never heard about it.
She was too busy scraping grease from a sink.
At 11:50 p.m., Alessio stood alone in the executive kitchen.
He found her there.
She was humming.
He leaned against the doorway.
"You're always humming."
"You always appear without warning."
"Does it bother you?"
"No."
"Why do you hum?"
She shrugged.
"It keeps memories quiet."
He watched her.
"What memories?"
She stopped humming.
"The kind you don't ask about."
He nodded.
"Fair."
She looked toward him.
"What happened to the man you arrested?"
"He confessed."
"Good."
"How did you know he'd confess?"
"I didn't."
"You sounded certain."
Nari put down the cloth.
"People confess when they realize the person they betrayed doesn't need them anymore."
Alessio studied her.
"Who betrayed you?"
Her face went blank.
"Nobody."
He knew that was a lie.
But for the first time in his life, Alessio Franks did not press.
He simply said:
"Good night, Nari."
She froze.
He had never called her by her first name.
He walked away.
She listened to his footsteps disappear.
Then she whispered to herself:
"You're dangerous."
May you like
She didn't know whether she meant him.
Or herself.
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