Chapter 3 - A DANGEROUS OFFER
Two days later, Jenny stepped out of the diner into the pouring rain, pulling her navy coat tight around her chest. Her mind was a whirlwind. Her rent had been miraculously marked "Paid in Full for 12 Months" on her online tenant portal, and the medicine had cleared Toby’s lungs within hours. He was sleeping peacefully at her sister’s place.
Yet, she felt watched. A heavy silver sedan was parked under the streetlamp across the street.
As she stepped off the curb, the rear door of the sedan opened.
Marco stepped out into the rain, holding a large black umbrella. He walked toward her, blocking the cold wind.
"Mr. Vitelli," Jenny said, her voice cautious. "Or should I call you whatever it is the people on the street call you?"
"Marco is fine," he said, holding the umbrella over her head while letting the rain soak his own shoulders. "You shouldn't be walking alone at night in this neighborhood."
"I've walked these streets for five years without a bodyguard, Marco," she replied, looking straight into his dark eyes. "I appreciate what you did for my son. Truly. I don't know why a man like you cared, but I can't let you keep paying my bills. I don't owe anyone."
"You don't owe me anything," Marco said smoothly. "Consider it an investment."
"An investment in what? A broke mother?"
"An investment in peace of mind," Marco confessed, surprising even himself. "Come with me. Let me buy you dinner. Somewhere safe. Somewhere warm."
Jenny hesitated. She knew who Marco Vitelli was now. A quick internet search had revealed enough—speculation about organized crime, shadowy corporate acquisitions, and a reputation that made city officials sweat. But when she looked into his eyes, she didn't see a monster. She saw a man carrying a burden as heavy as her own.
"One dinner," she bargained. "And then you tell me why you really stopped at that pawn shop."
They dined at a quiet, high-end Italian restaurant tucked away in the hills overlooking the city. For two hours, the violence and grit of the streets disappeared. Jenny found herself laughing for the first time in years as Marco told dry, witty stories about his travels, while Marco listened intently as she spoke passionately about her old work at the city archives and her dreams for Toby.
"He wants to see the ocean," Jenny said softly, tracing the rim of her water glass. "He’s seven, and he’s never seen the sea."
"Then he will," Marco said quietly.
Before she could answer, Marco’s phone buzzed aggressively on the tablecloth. He looked at the screen, his expression instantly hardening from warm to icy.
"Stay here," Marco said, standing up. "I need to take this."
He walked toward the quiet corridor near the back of the restaurant.
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"What is it, Leo?" Marco demanded into the phone.
"Boss, it’s a setup," Leo’s frantic voice came through the speaker. "Moretti’s men found out about the Reeves girl. They’re moving on her apartment right now—they think she’s your lever!"
