Chapter 9 - Marco Finally Asked the Right Question

Caleb survived.

He was charged with murder, kidnapping, conspiracy, trafficking stolen goods, and enough financial crimes to make the list boring before it ended.

Nico's daughter went home.

Nico resigned from the company.

Not because Marco asked.

Because Maya asked why men with guns knew her name.

That was enough.

Rafe visited Caleb once.

He did not tell anyone what they discussed.

Sera didn't ask.

That was new for her.

Knowing when not to ask.

Benny kept the diner closed for three days.

On the fourth, he replaced the broken window himself.

Sera showed up at six with coffee.

He looked at her.

"You still work here?"

"No."

He nodded.

"Good."

She handed him the coffee.

"That was rude."

"You always were overqualified."

"For pie?"

"For pretending not to see people."

They stood in silence.

Then Benny said:

"I am sorry."

Sera looked at him.

"For driving that night?"

"Yes."

"For knowing who I was?"

"Yes."

"For not telling me?"

"Yes."

She nodded.

"Okay."

He looked surprised.

"Okay?"

"Means I heard you."

Not forgiveness.

He understood.

Marco's office changed too.

Three executives left.

Two were arrested.

One disappeared before anyone could stop him.

Elena took her forty-nine percent out of the trust and split voting rights between Marco and Nico.

Marco hated that.

Which was why she did it.

"Power should annoy you," she told him.

Sera liked her less every day.

And respected her more.

An uncomfortable combination.

One week after the diner, Marco asked Sera to meet him on the restaurant roof.

Chicago spread around them in gray blocks and lake wind.

He handed her an envelope.

She did not take it.

"What now?"

"Your salary."

"You already paid me."

"Signing bonus."

"Same thing."

"No."

She looked at the envelope.

Then at him.

"How much?"

"Enough."

"People who say that are always hiding the number."

He smiled.

Then stopped.

"I want you to stay."

"As what?"

"Security."

"No."

"Advisor."

"No."

"Partner?"

She looked at him.

"In what?"

"Risk."

"That's not a job title."

"It could be."

Sera leaned against the wall.

"You hired me because your mother told you to?"

Marco's expression changed.

"No."

"Did she tell you where I worked?"

"No."

"Who did?"

"Nico."

She stared.

"He knew Elena had helped you."

"So the diner wasn't random."

"No."

Sera laughed softly.

"Nothing around you people is random."

Marco looked out over the city.

"I saw you before I knew your name."

"When?"

"Three months ago."

Her body went still.

He noticed.

"Not surveillance."

"Careful."

"I was at the diner."

She frowned.

"I'd remember."

"You weren't serving my table."

"Then?"

"A man grabbed one of the busboys."

Sera remembered.

A drunk contractor.

Six-two.

Loud.

She had stepped between them.

No fight.

Just one sentence.

Let him go before you embarrass yourself twice.

The man had.

Marco continued.

"You changed the whole room without raising your voice."

Sera looked at him.

"That's why you came back."

"Yes."

"Not Elena."

"No."

"Not Nico."

"No."

"Not because of Dennis."

"I didn't know any of that."

She believed him.

Annoying.

Marco handed her the envelope again.

This time she took it.

Not because of the money.

Because not taking it would have been theater.

"Partner in risk," she said.

"Temporary title."

"Bad title."

"Make a better one."

She opened the envelope.

The number was obscene.

She looked at him.

"No."

"Too low?"

"Too stupid."

He laughed.

Then she said:

"I'll do three months."

His expression steadied.

"Why three?"

"Because that's long enough to know whether you start sounding like your father."

That stopped him.

Sera expected anger.

Instead he nodded.

"Fair."

She folded the envelope.

Then Marco asked:

"Why did you stay in Chicago?"

She looked at him.

"That's the right question?"

"Maybe."

She thought about it.

The easy answer was work.

Rent.

Habit.

The true answer was smaller.

"Nobody here knew me."

Marco nodded.

"And now?"

She looked toward the diner below.

Benny.

Rafe.

Elena.

Marco.

Too many people.

"Now too many do."

"Is that bad?"

She considered.

"Ask me in three months."

He smiled.

Then his phone buzzed.

He checked it.

His expression changed.

Sera sighed.

"What now?"

He turned the screen.

A message from Elena.

DINNER. SUNDAY. NO EXCUSES.

Sera looked at him.

"Terrifying."

"You have no idea."

She walked toward the stairwell.

Marco called after her.

"Sera."

She turned.

He looked unusually uncertain.

"Thank you."

She stared.

"For what?"

"Not saving me."

He corrected himself.

"For making me look."

That was better.

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She nodded once.

"You're welcome."