Chapter 1 - THE WARNING
“Evie,” Gilbert hissed from behind her.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Evelyn spun around so fast the pen slipped from her fingers and bounced beneath the service counter.
Gilbert stared at the folded cocktail napkin trapped in her fist.
For half a second, neither of them moved.
Then his expression changed.
Not confusion.
Fear.
Real fear.
His eyes flicked past Evelyn toward Table Four.
Celeste Vane was still smiling.
Lorenzo Moretti was listening to one of his lieutenants.
Nobody seemed to be watching the service station.
Gilbert grabbed Evelyn’s wrist.
“Give me that.”
Evelyn pulled back.
“It’s nothing.”
“Then give it to me.”
His grip tightened.
Evelyn had worked under Gilbert for nine months.
She had seen him scream at dishwashers, fire bartenders in the middle of dinner service, and charm wealthy customers while quietly stealing half the staff’s tips.
But she had never seen him look frightened.
Not like this.
The clock over the bar clicked forward.
8:52.
Three minutes.
Evelyn lowered her voice.
“Why do you care?”
Gilbert’s jaw tightened.
“I care because you’re a waitress.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“You carry plates.”
His fingers dug harder into her skin.
“You refill glasses.”
He leaned closer.
“And tonight, you mind your own business.”
A cold sensation crawled through Evelyn’s stomach.
Gilbert knew.
Maybe not everything.
But enough.
She looked at the hand around her wrist.
Then at his face.
“You’re involved.”
His expression barely moved.
That was all the confirmation she needed.
Evelyn twisted free.
Gilbert lunged for the napkin.
She shoved him backward into a stack of clean menus.
Several hit the floor.
A hostess looked over.
Gilbert forced a smile.
“Keep working.”
The hostess immediately turned away.
In a place like The Obsidian, employees learned quickly when not to ask questions.
Evelyn slipped the folded napkin into the cuff of her sleeve.
Gilbert straightened his jacket.
His voice dropped to a whisper.
“You have no idea what you’re standing in the middle of.”
“Then tell me.”
“I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“By letting them kill him?”
Gilbert stared at her.
That answer was enough too.
8:53.
Evelyn’s heartbeat hammered against her ribs.
Two minutes.
Across the dining room, Celeste leaned close to Lorenzo and said something that made several people laugh.
Her left hand remained beneath the table.
The clutch sat open beside her plate.
Evelyn could still see the faint glow of the phone inside.
Then another message appeared.
She was too far away to read it.
But Celeste saw it.
And smiled.
Gilbert stepped between Evelyn and the dining room.
“You walk back into that room with that note, and you won’t make it to sunrise.”
Evelyn swallowed.
“Move.”
“No.”
“Gilbert.”
“You think Moretti is some innocent man you’re rescuing?”
His face hardened.
“You think he’d lose one second of sleep if you disappeared tonight?”
“I don’t care what he is.”
“You should.”
“I care that somebody is about to turn a restaurant full of people into a graveyard.”
Gilbert’s eyes sharpened.
“You heard something.”
“I saw something.”
His expression darkened even more.
“What?”
Evelyn said nothing.
Gilbert stepped closer.
“What did you see?”
The clock clicked again.
8:54.
One minute.
Evelyn looked toward Table Four.
Lorenzo was raising his wineglass.
Celeste’s hand slipped into her clutch.
Gilbert followed Evelyn’s gaze.
That tiny distraction was enough.
Evelyn grabbed a silver tray from the counter and slammed it into Gilbert’s chest.
He stumbled backward.
She ran.
Not toward the north exit.
Toward Lorenzo.
A server nearly collided with her near the wine station.
Evelyn dodged around him.
The folded napkin slid down inside her sleeve.
Table Four was twenty feet away.
Fifteen.
Ten.
Celeste looked up.
Their eyes met.
The beautiful smile vanished.
Celeste knew.
Evelyn saw it immediately.
The heiress rose halfway from her chair.
“Excuse me.”
Lorenzo turned.
Evelyn reached the table.
She lifted a small bread plate with her left hand as if replacing it.
With her right, hidden beneath the linen edge, she let the napkin fall beside Lorenzo’s fingers.
For one terrifying second, nothing happened.
Then Lorenzo’s hand covered it.
Smoothly.
Effortlessly.
As if he had been expecting her.
Evelyn kept walking.
Behind her, Celeste said sharply, “Waitress.”
Evelyn stopped.
Every instinct told her to run.
She turned.
Celeste’s face had returned to perfection.
Only her eyes remained cold.
“You dropped something.”
Evelyn glanced at the floor.
Nothing was there.
Celeste smiled.
“Didn’t you?”
Lorenzo unfolded the napkin beneath the table.
Evelyn watched his eyes move across the message.
Your fiancée set a trap.
Don’t use north exit.
Nothing changed in his expression.
That frightened Evelyn more than anything.
He refolded the napkin.
Placed it in his jacket pocket.
Then lifted his wine.
Celeste sat down slowly.
“Is there a problem?” she asked.
Lorenzo looked at her.
“No.”
His voice was calm.
Almost warm.
Then the clock reached 8:55.
Somewhere behind the kitchen wall, something metallic struck the floor.
Lorenzo’s eyes shifted toward the sound.
So did Evelyn’s.
Three men near the bar suddenly stood.
Two others near the windows reached beneath their jackets.
Celeste’s smile returned.
Lorenzo gently placed his wineglass down.
“Evelyn.”
Her blood froze.
She had never told him her name.
He looked directly at her.
May you like
“Get down.”
The first gunshot shattered the chandelier above Table Four.
