Chapter 3 - UNEXPECTED VISITORS
Three days passed without incident.
The storm had given way to crisp autumn weather.
I used Mikhail’s money to settle the most urgent diner debts.
The bank stopped calling.
The power company canceled the shutoff order.
For a brief moment, I thought life would return to normal.
I was wrong.
It was a Thursday afternoon when the black sedan returned.
This time, it pulled up right outside during the lunch rush.
The diner was relatively busy with local construction workers and office employees.
The door chime rang loudly.
A tall, broad-shouldered man walked in.
He was not Mikhail.
He was younger, perhaps in his late twenties, wearing a dark gray suit and an intimidating demeanor.
His eyes scanned the room before focusing on me behind the counter.
He walked over with smooth, deliberate steps.
"Miss Elena?" he asked politely.
His voice was clear and formal.
"Yes?" I answered, setting down a coffee pot.
"My name is Viktor," he said, inclining his head slightly. "I am Mr. Volkov's head of security."
"Is Misha okay?" was my first reaction.
Viktor’s stern expression softened slightly at my question.
"The young master is well," Viktor replied. "Mr. Volkov sent me to deliver a message."
He reached inside his jacket and pulled out an elegant ivory envelope.
He placed it on the counter in front of me.
"What is this?" I asked, looking down at the heavy paper.
"An invitation," Viktor said.
"Mr. Volkov would like you to join him for dinner tonight."
I blinked in surprise.
"Dinner? I... I can't. I have to run the diner."
"The diner will be closed tonight," Viktor said calmly.
I frowned. "Excuse me?"
Viktor gestured toward the window.
Outside, two men in black suits were standing near the front entrance, holding printed signs.
They were politely turning away approaching customers.
"You can't just close my business!" I said, my voice rising slightly.
"Mr. Volkov has compensated your staff for the entire week," Viktor explained without missing a beat.
"He has also bought out every reservation you might have had."
"He wishes to speak with you privately."
"And if I say no?" I asked, crossing my arms.
Viktor looked at me with genuine respect.
"Mr. Volkov stated that if you refused, I was to inform you that Misha misses his new friend."
"He specifically requested your presence."
I looked at the envelope sitting on the smooth counter.
My heart pounded softly in my chest.
I knew this was dangerous.
Crossing paths with a syndicate boss was like playing with fire.
But the image of the frightened little boy sitting in my booth returned to my mind.
Misha had looked so lonely.
"What time?" I asked quietly.
"A car will arrive at your apartment at seven o'clock," Viktor answered.
He bowed slightly.
"Have a good day, Miss Elena."
He turned and walked out of the diner.
The two security guards outside packed up their signs and stepped into their vehicles.
I stood behind the counter, staring at the ivory envelope.
My fingers trembled as I picked it up and broke the wax seal.
Inside was a handwritten note in precise, sweeping calligraphy:
"Thank you for saving my son's life.
*Allow me to thank you properly.*
May you like
*— M.V."*
---
