Chapter 3 - The Black Car
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At exactly 6:55 PM, the heavy rumble of a massive engine vibrated through the thin walls of my apartment building. I looked out the window. A sleek, armored black SUV sat idling at the curb, its tinted windows reflecting the harsh glow of the streetlamp.
I grabbed my wool coat, locked my door, and walked downstairs. The moment my boots touched the sidewalk, the driver’s side door opened.
A mountain of a man in a sharp black suit stepped out. He looked like a former heavyweight boxer, his nose flattened and his jaw covered in a thick, dark beard. He didn't smile, but he gave a respectful nod as he opened the rear passenger door for me.
“Miss Emma,” he rumbled. “I’m Silas. I’ll be driving you tonight.”
“Thank you,” I murmured, climbing into the back.
The interior of the SUV smelled of expensive leather and ozone. It was entirely soundproofed, separating me from the noise of the city the second the heavy door clicked shut. Silas drove with terrifying precision, weaving through the Chicago traffic without ever touching the brakes too hard.
We headed downtown, bypassing the crowded commercial districts, and eventually pulled into a private underground garage beneath a towering glass skyscraper.
Silas escorted me to a private elevator. He scanned a keycard, and the doors slid shut. We rode in silence until the doors opened directly into a dimly lit, breathtakingly beautiful restaurant.
There were no other patrons. The tables were empty, the chairs perfectly aligned. The only light came from the city skyline through the floor-to-ceiling windows and the flickering candles on a single table in the center of the room.
Dante Caruso stood by the window, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He wore a dark tailored suit, shedding the jacket to reveal a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. The scars on his knuckles told a story of violence that his refined posture tried to hide.
He turned as I stepped off the elevator.
“You came,” Dante said, his silver-gray eyes locking onto mine.
“You didn’t exactly leave me a choice,” I replied, keeping my chin high.
May you like
A faint smile touched the corner of his mouth.
“I always leave a choice, Emma,” he said softly, walking toward the table and pulling out a chair for me. “But I admit, I was hoping you’d make this one.”
