Chapter 2 — The Man in the Maybach
Chapter 2 — The Man in the Maybach
The first thing I learned about Dom Vasquez was that he never raised his voice.
The second was that everyone around him lowered theirs.
The third was that being invited into a black Mercedes-Maybach at seven in the morning did not feel anything like being rescued.
It felt like being collected.
I sat in the back seat with my canvas bag pressed against my knees while the city disappeared behind tinted glass.
Vincent sat in front.
Two other vehicles followed us.
I noticed that because I kept checking the rear window.
Vincent noticed me checking.
“You're safe.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
“You didn't ask anything.”
“I was thinking it loudly.”
He almost smiled.
“Mr. Vasquez appreciates observant people.”
“That's unfortunate.”
“Why?”
“Because I'm beginning to observe that nobody around him answers questions.”
Vincent looked at me through the mirror.
“That observation is correct.”
I sighed.
“Great.”
The Maybach turned beneath an underground entrance.
The gates closed behind us.
I looked at Vincent.
“Where are we?”
“Home.”
I frowned.
“Whose home?”
“Dom's.”
My stomach tightened.
I hadn't agreed to this.
But I also knew that going back to my apartment alone was probably worse.
The previous night had changed something.
Before the coffee incident, I had been invisible.
A waitress.
A woman trying to survive.
Someone nobody important noticed.
Now a dangerous man had tried to poison Dom in front of me.
And Dom had told me my name appeared in files connected to the attempt.
I didn't know which possibility frightened me more.
That he was lying.
Or that he wasn't.
The elevator opened directly into a private residence.
I stepped out.
The place didn't look like the home of a criminal.
There were no gold statues.
No flashy furniture.
No women wandering around in expensive clothes.
It was almost painfully restrained.
Dark wood.
Stone.
Bookshelves.
A large window overlooking the city.
Everything expensive.
Nothing excessive.
Dom stood near the window.
He had changed clothes.
Black shirt.
Dark trousers.
No jacket.
No tie.
He looked less like the dangerous man from the diner.
That made him more dangerous.
People who wanted to look frightening usually succeeded by trying.
Dom didn't try.
“Good morning,” he said.
I stared at him.
“You kidnapped me.”
“No.”
“You sent a man the size of a refrigerator to my apartment.”
“Vincent is not a refrigerator.”
I looked at Vincent.
He remained expressionless.
Dom continued.
“I asked him to bring you here.”
“That sounds like kidnapping with better vocabulary.”
A faint smile appeared on his face.
“You're not afraid of me.”
“I am.”
“Good.”
That surprised me.
“Why is that good?”
“Fear keeps people alive.”
I crossed my arms.
“So does common sense.”
“I agree.”
“Then send me home.”
Dom's expression changed.
“Not yet.”
I stared at him.
“You don't get to decide that.”
“No.”
He walked toward the table.
“You do.”
He stopped.
“But if you leave, I can't guarantee what happens next.”
I hated that answer.
Because it sounded honest.
A woman in a gray uniform entered carrying breakfast.
She placed eggs, toast, fruit, and coffee on the table.
I stared at the coffee.
Dom noticed.
“Tea?”
“Yes.”
The woman immediately removed the coffee.
“I'm not drinking anything you give me.”
Dom nodded.
“That's reasonable.”
He poured himself water.
“Drink from the bottle.”
I looked at him.
“You're trying very hard to convince me you're not going to kill me.”
“If I wanted you dead, you wouldn't be sitting here.”
I went still.
He said it so calmly.
Not as a threat.
As a fact.
I looked around the room.
“How many security cameras are there?”
“Eight.”
“Hidden?”
“Six.”
“That's comforting.”
“It wasn't intended to be.”
I sat.
“Tell me why I'm here.”
Dom sat across from me.
“Because you saved my life.”
“I already know that.”
“And because the person who tried to kill me knows you saw him.”
“I already know that too.”
“Then because you may be connected to something I have been searching for.”
“The ledger.”
“Yes.”
I leaned forward.
“What is it?”
“A record.”
“Of what?”
“Money.”
I waited.
“That's all?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“People.”
My stomach tightened.
“People?”
“Names. Payments. Deals. Ownership.”
“Illegal?”
Dom looked at me.
“Some.”
I laughed nervously.
“That's comforting.”
“I'm not asking you to participate in anything.”
“Then what are you asking?”
“Nothing.”
I blinked.
“Nothing?”
“Not yet.”
That answer bothered me.
“Then why bring me here?”
“Because I think someone is looking for you.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Tommy?”
“Possibly.”
“Rafael?”
“Possibly.”
“You said he was your business partner.”
“He is.”
“And your best friend.”
“Yes.”
“And he may be behind the attempt.”
“Yes.”
“Then why is he still alive?”
Dom's eyes hardened.
“Because I need proof.”
I stared at him.
“You could just ask him.”
“He would lie.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I taught him how.”
The room went quiet.
I looked at him differently.
“You're not a good man.”
Dom didn't flinch.
“No.”
At least he didn't pretend.
“Are you dangerous?”
“Yes.”
“Have you killed people?”
A long pause.
“Yes.”
My throat tightened.
“How many?”
“I don't count.”
I stood.
“I want to go home.”
Dom nodded.
“Okay.”
I stopped.
That was too easy.
“You're letting me leave?”
“Yes.”
I stared at him.
“You just said someone might be trying to kill me.”
“They are.”
“And you're still letting me leave?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because keeping you here against your will would make me no better than the people I'm trying to stop.”
That answer caught me off guard.
He walked toward a side table and picked up a phone.
“I'll have Vincent take you home.”
I didn't move.
“You're serious.”
“Yes.”
I studied his face.
“You don't want anything from me?”
“Not today.”
“Why not?”
“Because you're scared.”
“I am.”
“And frightened people make terrible decisions.”
I looked at him.
“What about tomorrow?”
He smiled slightly.
“Tomorrow you can decide whether you want to see me again.”
Vincent drove me home.
This time I noticed the city.
The grocery store.
The bus stop.
The little pharmacy where I bought painkillers when my feet hurt.
Everything looked ordinary.
I had spent years thinking ordinary meant boring.
Now it looked like luxury.
When we stopped outside my apartment, Vincent handed me an envelope.
“What is this?”
“Your wages.”
I frowned.
“I worked last night.”
“You don't work there anymore.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“Mr. Vasquez purchased the diner.”
My mouth fell open.
“He did what?”
“Frank agreed.”
“You can't just buy someone's workplace.”
“He did.”
“Why?”
“Because the diner is no longer safe.”
I looked at the building.
“You bought it?”
“I didn't.”
“Then who did?”
“Mr. Vasquez.”
I groaned.
“This is insane.”
Vincent smiled.
“Welcome to Dom's world.”
Inside my apartment, everything looked exactly as I had left it.
Small.
Cold.
Quiet.
I put the envelope on the table.
Inside was enough money to cover three months of rent.
I didn't touch it.
Then I saw the note.
One sentence.
This is not payment. It is protection.
No signature.
I knew who wrote it.
I folded it and put it away.
Then I noticed something.
My apartment door wasn't locked.
I was certain I had locked it.
I stepped inside slowly.
The room was silent.
I reached for the light.
Nothing.
Power was out.
My breathing changed.
Someone had been inside.
I backed toward the door.
Then I heard a sound.
A floorboard.
Behind me.
I turned.
A man stepped out of the hallway.
Tommy.
My blood froze.
He smiled.
“You should've stayed with Dom.”
I ran.
He caught my arm.
I screamed.
He covered my mouth.
“Quiet.”
I bit his hand.
He cursed.
I slammed my elbow into his ribs.
He stumbled.
I grabbed the nearest object.
A lamp.
I swung.
It hit his shoulder.
He fell backward.
I ran toward the door.
He grabbed my ankle.
I fell.
My head struck the floor.
Pain exploded through my skull.
Tommy dragged me backward.
“You don't understand what you saw.”
“Let me go!”
“You saw something you weren't supposed to see.”
I kicked him.
He slapped me.
My ears rang.
Then suddenly—
The door exploded inward.
Two men rushed inside.
Tommy froze.
Vincent stepped through the doorway.
Behind him stood Dom.
Tommy's face changed.
“Dom.”
Dom walked slowly into the apartment.
“You were told to stay away from her.”
Tommy backed up.
“She knows.”
“I know.”
“She saw everything.”
“I know.”
“You don't understand.”
Dom stopped.
“No.”
His voice was quiet.
“I understand perfectly.”
Tommy reached inside his jacket.
Vincent drew his weapon.
“Don't.”
Tommy froze.
Dom looked at him.
“You tried to kill me.”
Tommy swallowed.
“And now you came for her.”
“I didn't mean—”
“Don't lie.”
Tommy looked toward me.
Then back at Dom.
“You don't know who she is.”
Dom went still.
“What did you say?”
Tommy smiled.
“You think she's just some waitress.”
Dom's eyes narrowed.
“Explain.”
Tommy laughed.
“Ask her.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
Tommy looked at me.
“Ask her about the Reyes name.”
My stomach dropped.
Dom stepped closer.
“What do you know about her family?”
Tommy said nothing.
Dom's voice hardened.
“Tommy.”
Tommy smiled.
“Your father knew her mother.”
I felt the room disappear.
Dom looked at me.
I looked back at him.
The same photograph from the night before flashed through my mind.
My mother.
His father.
The diner.
Thirty years ago.
Tommy laughed.
“Now you're finally asking the right question.”
Dom grabbed his collar.
“What did they hide?”
Tommy's smile vanished.
“I don't know.”
Dom stared at him.
“You're lying.”
“I swear.”
Dom released him.
“Take him.”
Vincent and another man dragged Tommy away.
Tommy shouted as he disappeared down the stairs.
“You'll regret trusting her!”
Then silence.
Dom turned toward me.
I was still on the floor.
He crouched beside me.
“Are you hurt?”
“My head.”
He looked at Vincent.
“Call the doctor.”
“No hospital.”
Dom looked at me.
“Why?”
“Because I don't want people asking questions.”
“Fine.”
He helped me sit.
His hand was warm.
Careful.
Nothing like the violence I'd just witnessed.
I looked at him.
“You could have killed Tommy.”
“Yes.”
“But you didn't.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted answers.”
I stared at him.
“You knew he was coming.”
“I suspected.”
“Then why did you let me go home?”
Dom looked away.
“Because you deserved the choice.”
I shook my head.
“You're impossible.”
“So I've been told.”
I almost smiled.
Then I remembered Tommy's words.
“What's the Reyes name?”
Dom's expression changed.
“I don't know.”
“Your father knew my mother.”
“Yes.”
“Then find out.”
“I will.”
“And if you find something?”
“I'll tell you.”
“Everything?”
He looked directly at me.
“Everything.”
That night, Dom stayed outside my apartment.
He didn't come inside.
He didn't ask me to stay with him.
He simply stood near the car until morning.
I watched him from the window.
For the first time, I understood something.
The Maybach wasn't what frightened me.
The guns weren't.
The men weren't.
It was the fact that Dom Vasquez, a man who could have taken whatever he wanted, had given me something nobody in my life had given me in years.
A choice.
And somehow, that made trusting him more dangerous than fearing him.
Because if Dom was telling the truth, then the real mystery wasn't why he had brought me into his world.
May you like
It was why my mother had already been there long before I was born.
And why someone had spent decades making sure I never found out.
