Chapter 4 - The Shadow Over Rose's Diner
Two days later, the rain had finally stopped, leaving the streets of Brooklyn glinting under the pale yellow glow of streetlights.
Inside Rose’s Diner, the dinner rush had cleared out. Sophia was sweeping the floor near the entrance while Emma sat at a corner booth, quietly finishing her elementary school homework.
Suddenly, the front door chimed violently as three young men in heavy tracksuits pushed their way inside. They didn't look like hungry customers. Their boots were dirty, their expressions arrogant, and the leader carried a aluminum baseball bat casually over his shoulder.
“Place is closed, boys,” Sophia said, keeping her voice firm as she held the broom tightly.
The leader, a young punk named Frankie—one of Dominic’s low-level collectors—smirked as he dragged the metal bat across the diner’s counter, making a horrible scraping noise.
“We’re not here for food, sweetheart,” Frankie sneered. “We’re here for the rent. The new protection rent.”
Sophia stood her ground. “I pay my lease to Mr. Henderson every first of the month. I don't owe you anything.”
“Mr. Henderson sold your debt to us this morning,” Frankie lied, taking a step toward the counter where Emma was watching with wide, frightened eyes. “Starting tonight, protection costs two grand a month. Or maybe this pretty little girl’s hospital bill costs more.”
Frankie reached out to grab Emma’s backpack.
“Don't touch her!” Sophia screamed, lunging forward with the broom.
Frankie shoved Sophia hard, sending her crashing onto the linoleum floor. Emma let out a terrified shriek, running to her mother’s side.
“Mommy!”
Frankie raised the baseball bat, a cruel grin spreading across his face. “You should’ve paid up, lady—”
The front door chimed again.
Before Frankie could swing, a heavy hand grabbed the metal bat in mid-air. Frankie froze, trying to pull the bat back, but it felt as if it were encased in solid concrete.
He turned his head—and all the color drained from his face.
Adrian stood behind him. He wasn't wearing his overcoat tonight, just a dark tailored suit. His expression was utterly void of emotion, which made his eyes ten times more terrifying.
“Mr. Moretti…” Frankie stammered, his voice dropping an octave as his hands began to shake. “We… we were just collecting for Dominic—”
Adrian didn't say a word. He simply twisted his wrist.
The metal bat was ripped effortlessly from Frankie’s grip. In the same fluid motion, Adrian brought the heavy aluminum bat down across Frankie’s kneecap with a sickening CRACK.
Frankie screamed in agony, collapsing onto the floor, clutching his shattered leg. The two other goons reached for their waistbands, but Lucas stepped through the doorway, a heavy revolver already pressed against the lead goon’s temple.
“Freeze,” Lucas said softly. “Move a finger and I splatter your brains across the pie display.”
Adrian tossed the bent aluminum bat onto the floor beside Frankie. He stepped over the groaning thug and knelt down in front of Sophia and Emma.
“Are you hurt?” Adrian asked, his voice softening instantly.
Sophia shook her head, pulling Emma tight against her chest. “We’re okay… Adrian, who are these men? Why are they doing this?”
Adrian offered his hand to Sophia, helping her up off the floor, then reached down to gently ruffle Emma’s hair.
“They’re garbage,” Adrian said quietly. “And I’m going to clean them up.”
May you like
He turned back to Frankie, who was sobbing on the floor.
“Tell Dominic,” Adrian said, looking down at the broken thug, “that he just signed his own death warrant.”
