Chapter 3 - The Empty Booth
The next morning, Elena found the black card beside the register.
She considered throwing it away.
Instead, she placed it in the drawer beneath a pile of unpaid invoices.
The diner had belonged to her mother, Rosa, who had built it with twenty years of work and endless pots of coffee. After Rosa died, Elena inherited the restaurant along with its debts.
Business was declining.
A luxury development company had already purchased most of the block. Elena had refused every offer for the diner, though the building needed repairs she could not afford.
At noon, a black SUV stopped outside.
Misha entered with a security guard.
Elena blinked. “What are you doing here?”
“He wanted lunch,” the guard explained.
Misha slid into the same booth as the night before.
“Papa said I could choose.”
Elena handed him a menu.
“You can’t eat fried chicken every day.”
“Papa eats the same breakfast every morning.”
“That doesn’t make it a good idea.”
Misha smiled.
He ordered grilled cheese and tomato soup.
Over lunch, he told Elena that his mother had died when he was five. Since then, his father had filled their home with tutors, assistants, drivers, and security officers.
“But Papa is always working,” he said.
“He was very worried about you.”
“He worries after things happen.”
The words struck Elena with unexpected sadness.
When Misha left, he placed a small drawing beside the plate. It showed the diner beneath a blue sky, with Elena, Misha, and Mikhail standing in front.
That evening, Mikhail came in alone.
“Misha left this,” Elena said, handing him the drawing.
He studied it carefully.
“He has not drawn his mother since she died.”
Elena did not know what to say.
Mikhail sat at the counter.
The diner was nearly empty, so Elena poured him coffee.
“Did you find the man with the red scarf?”
“No. The hotel cameras stopped working for seven minutes.”
“That doesn’t sound accidental.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Do you know who took him?”
“I know someone wanted me frightened.”
Elena leaned against the counter.
“Are you?”
Mikhail looked toward the empty booth.
“Yes.”
His honest answer surprised her.
He removed an envelope from his coat and placed it on the counter.
Elena opened it and found an offer to purchase the diner for three times its market value.
Her warmth disappeared.
“This was your reason for coming?”
“My company owns the development project.”
“You own the company trying to destroy my block?”
“We are rebuilding it.”
“You mean replacing everyone who cannot afford to stay.”
Mikhail’s voice remained calm. “Your building is failing.”
“It is still mine.”
“You could walk away without debt.”
“And where would my employees go?”
“That is not your responsibility.”
Elena pushed the envelope back.
“That sentence tells me everything I need to know about you.”
May you like
Mikhail’s expression hardened.
Yet when he left, he took the rejected offer with him.
