Chapter 3 - The Face of the Forgotten
Ten minutes later, the doors opened again. Carmine returned, but he wasn't alone.
Elena Hayes looked like a woman who had spent the last three years running a marathon she hadn't trained for. Her dark hair was pulled back into a hasty, practical bun, held together by a cheap plastic clip. Her oversized grey uniform polo shirt bore the faint scent of commercial citrus cleaner and bleach. Her hands, rough and red from manual labor, were trembling so violently she had to cross her arms to hide them.
When her eyes landed on Mia, the blood drained from her face completely.
"Mia!" Elena gasped, dropping to her knees right there on the expensive rug, pulling her daughter into a desperate embrace. "Oh my god, Mia, what did you do? I told you to stay in the breakroom! I told you to look at your book!"
"Mom, I fixed it," Mia protested, her voice muffled against her mother’s shoulder. "I told the big boss about the yellow paper. He’s fixing the computer."
Elena looked up, her eyes wide with a terror that Alec recognized instantly. It was the look of a person who knew exactly how easily the powerful could crush the weak without even noticing the grease spot left behind. She saw the tailored suit, the sprawling office, the security guards, and the cold authority radiating from the man behind the desk.
"Mr. Cortez, please," Elena begged, her voice cracking as she shielded her daughter with her body. "She’s only seven. She doesn't know what she’s doing. She doesn't understand. I’ll leave. We’ll leave right now. I won't ask about the back pay anymore, I swear. Just please don't call the police. Don't hurt her."
Alec didn't move. He let the silence settle, allowing her panic to peak before he intentionally defused it.
"Do I look like a man who calls the police, Ms. Hayes?" Alec asked softly.
Elena blinked through her tears, momentarily paralyzed by the question.
Alec stood up, smoothing the front of his midnight-blue jacket. He walked around the massive mahogany desk, stopping a respectful distance away from the kneeling mother. He reached into his inner pocket, pulled out a thick, unmarked envelope, and dropped it lightly onto the rug beside her.
"There is ten thousand dollars in cash in that envelope," Alec said. "Consider it an advance on the wages owed to you, plus interest for the inconvenience your landlord caused this morning."
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Elena stared at the envelope as if it were a bomb. "I... I don't understand."
"It’s very simple," Alec said, looking out at the rain-streaked Manhattan skyline. "You work for me. Even if your name is on a third-party ledger three tiers deep, your labor keeps my windows clean. And nobody skips a payment to my people. Not under my roof."
