Chapter 3 - The Girl Who Saw Too Much
The waitress’s name was Lila Mercer.
She was twenty-two, from Queens, and shaking so violently that the paper cup of water in her hands kept collapsing.
“I didn’t know,” she kept saying. “I swear I didn’t know.”
Daniel sat across from her in the back office. He did not threaten her. That made it worse.
“Tell me exactly what happened,” he said.
Lila wiped her cheeks. “Mr. Hale said Table Six needed an apology drink. He poured it himself. He told me to bring it to the woman in the black dress.”
“Did anyone touch it after he poured it?”
“No.”
“Did you see him add anything?”
She hesitated.
Daniel leaned forward slightly.
Lila cried harder. “He turned his back. I thought maybe he was adding bitters or syrup. I don’t know. I’m new. I didn’t want to ask.”
Daniel slid a photo across the table.
Victor Hale. Nathaniel Crowe. Standing together outside the club two weeks earlier.
“Have you seen them together?”
Lila stared.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Mr. Crowe comes here after closing sometimes. Victor lets him use the private rooms.”
Daniel’s expression did not change.
But something in the room grew colder.
Upstairs, Jasmine had stopped shaking. The fog in her head had thinned into a pounding headache and a bitter taste at the back of her throat.
Min-jae remained near the door, giving her space because he understood too late that space was the one thing he had stolen.
Camille sat beside the bed. Simone stood with folded arms.
Neither trusted him.
Good, Min-jae thought.
Jasmine needed people who did not trust easily.
“You bought this club,” Jasmine said.
It was not a question.
Min-jae nodded.
“When?”
“Six months ago.”
“Why?”
He looked at the floor.
Jasmine almost smiled, but there was no humor in it. “Do not insult me by lying.”
His eyes lifted.
“Because you came here,” he said.
Camille muttered, “Absolutely not.”
Min-jae accepted the judgment.
Jasmine closed her eyes. “You had people follow me?”
“Yes.”
“For eight months?”
“Not every day.”
“That is not better.”
“No,” he said. “It is not.”
The honesty made her angrier.
She wanted excuses. A villain speech. Something simple enough to hate.
Instead he stood there like a man willing to take the knife if she chose to hold it.
“You should have told me you were alive,” she said.
“I thought my life would endanger yours.”
“And secretly buying my favorite club didn’t?”
He had no answer.
Jasmine turned her face away.
That hurt more than he expected.
Daniel entered quietly and spoke in Korean. Min-jae’s jaw tightened.
“What?” Jasmine asked.
Daniel looked to Min-jae.
“Say it in English,” Min-jae ordered.
Daniel hesitated, then obeyed.
“The drink came from Victor Hale. He appears to have an arrangement with Nathaniel Crowe. We found security footage of Crowe entering private rooms after closing with women who appear impaired.”
The room went silent.
Simone whispered, “Oh my God.”
Jasmine’s stomach twisted.
“How many?” she asked.
Daniel’s voice was grim. “We don’t know yet.”
Min-jae turned toward the door.
Jasmine forced herself upright. “What are you going to do?”
His face was stone.
“What the law should have done.”
“No.”
He stopped.
Jasmine gripped the blanket. “If you kill him, his father buries everything. If you disappear Victor, the women stay silent forever. You want to protect me? Then don’t make yourself the story.”
Min-jae stared at her.
Even pale, exhausted, poisoned, she saw the board more clearly than half the men in his organization.
“You need proof,” she said. “You need survivors. You need someone the Crowes can’t buy.”
Daniel said, “The district attorney has taken Crowe money.”
“Then don’t start with the DA.”
Jasmine looked at the sealed evidence bag in Daniel’s hand.
“Start with the press.”
Min-jae almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because eight months ago, Jasmine had saved him with torn satin and stubborn courage.
Tonight, she might save everyone with strategy.
Downstairs, Victor Hale tried to run through the kitchen exit.
May you like
He found three Baekho men waiting.
Behind them stood Nathaniel Crowe, dragged from his chair and finally realizing that for once, his father’s name did not open the door.
