ROBBERS THREATENED A WAITRESS, BUT HER CALM REACTION LEFT THE MAFIA BOSS COMPLETELY STUNNED

PART 2 — THE WAITRESS WHO KNEW TOO MUCH

“Already planning to,” Norah said.

Marcus pressed the pistol closer.

“Then move.”

Norah lowered her eyes to the register. Her fingers moved across the ʙuттons, but her attention remained on Jesse, whose sH๏τgun was trembling so badly that the barrel kept dipping toward the floor and rising again.

“Hey,” she said softly.

Jesse flinched.

“Don’t look at me. Open the damn register.”

“I am. But there’s something you should know.”

“What’s that?”

“The drawer sticks.”

Marcus swore.

Norah pressed the release.

Nothing happened.

She tried again.

The register gave a metallic click but remained shut.

“See?” she murmured. “Told you.”

Behind her, Sebastian Gallow finally spoke.

“Marcus. Let her work.”

Two words.

That was all.

Yet Marcus immediately stepped back.

Norah noticed.

So did Jesse.

The man in the expensive coat hadn’t raised his voice, hadn’t threatened anyone, and hadn’t even taken his hands from his pockets.

But the entire room seemed to rearrange itself around him.

Norah had heard the name Gallow before.

Everyone in Chicago had.

There were stories about his family, about warehouses near the river, politicians who returned phone calls at midnight, and men who disappeared from certain neighborhoods without anyone asking questions.

Norah had never expected to meet him over a broken cash register.

The drawer finally sprang open.

Marcus grabbed the bills.

“That’s it?” he snapped.

“Night shift,” Norah answered. “People pay with cards now.”

He swept the money into his pocket.

Then Jesse stepped closer.

“There’s more.”

He pointed the sH๏τgun toward the little office behind the counter.

“Back there.”

Norah’s smile vanished.

Not from fear.

From calculation.

“There isn’t any money back there.”

“Then you won’t mind showing us.”

“Actually,” she said, “I do.”

Marcus grabbed her wrist.

“Listen carefully, sweetheart—”

“Let go of her.”

Sebastian’s voice cut through the diner.

Marcus turned, startled.

For the first time, something resembling uncertainty crossed his face.

“She’s hiding something.”

“I said let go.”

Marcus released her.

Norah rubbed her wrist.

She looked at Sebastian.

“Thank you.”

He studied her with an expression that made graтιтude feel strangely out of place.

“Why aren’t you afraid?”

Norah glanced toward the frightened patrons huddled on the floor.

“I’m terrified.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Being terrified and being stupid are different things.”

Something changed in his eyes.

A flicker of interest.

Then Jesse suddenly moved around the counter.

“I’m checking the office.”

“No,” Norah said.

He stopped.

There was something in her voice that made even Marcus hesitate.

Norah looked directly at the young robber.

“If you open that door, someone could die tonight.”

Jesse swallowed.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Norah didn’t answer.

Because beneath the counter, hidden behind a loose panel, was a small black box.

And inside that box was a pH๏τograph.

A pH๏τograph of Sebastian Gallow standing beside a man Chicago police had officially declared ᴅᴇᴀᴅ seven years earlier.

Her father.

The man who had taught her how to recognize danger before she was old enough to understand it.

The man who had disappeared on a rainy November evening, leaving behind a bloodstained watch and one instruction:

If the Gallow family ever comes looking for you, don’t trust the one who smiles.

Norah had spent seven years wondering what those words meant.

Now Sebastian Gallow was standing ten feet away.

And he was smiling.

Not kindly.

Not cruelly.

As though he had finally found something he’d been searching for.

“Norah,” he said.

Her blood turned cold.

She had never told him her name.

“Who told you that?” she whispered.

Sebastian removed his hands from his pockets.

“I knew your father.”

Before Norah could respond, the diner lights went out.

A gunsH๏τ exploded in the darkness.

And someone screamed.