Chapter 4 - The Silent Child’s Request
Ten minutes later, the Callahan enforcers had been dragged out the back alley, and the diner was emptied of customers. I sat in a booth, my hands shaking uncontrollably as I tried to drink a cup of chamomile tea.
The front door opened again.
Mikhail Volkov walked in, draped in a dark charcoal coat, holding little Misha by the hand. The boy was wearing a warm blue sweater, looking far healthier than he had during the storm, but his eyes were wide with anxiety.
“Sarah!” Misha cried, breaking away from his father’s grip and running straight into my arms.
I pulled the little boy into a tight hug, feeling the trembling tension in his small frame ease up the moment he leaned against me.
“Are you hurt, Sarah?” Misha asked, looking up at me frantically. “Papa said bad men came here.”
“I’m perfectly fine, sweetheart,” I reassured him, smoothing his dark hair. “Your father’s friends made sure nothing happened.”
Mikhail approached the booth, his expression grim. He looked down at his right-hand man, Boris, who gave a sharp nod, confirming the threat had been handled.
“Callahan is getting desperate,” Mikhail said quietly, turning his piercing blue eyes onto me. “He knows he failed to grab Misha, so he is trying to squeeze every piece of information he can find. Coming here was a mistake on his part.”
“Mikhail,” I said, using his first name for the first time. “I appreciate the protection, but I can’t run my business like a warzone. My cook resigned five minutes ago.”
Mikhail sat across from me, crossing his arms over his chest.
“My son has not eaten a full meal since last night,” Mikhail revealed, his voice carrying a rare edge of vulnerability. “Our personal chefs prepared four different dishes this morning. He refused them all. He said he would only eat if Sarah cooked it.”
I blinked, stunned. I looked down at Misha, who was blushing and chewing on his lip.
“He trusts you,” Mikhail continued softly. “In our world, trust is rarer than gold. I cannot leave my guards at your door forever without drawing Callahan’s full army to this corner. Therefore, I have a proposal.”
May you like
“What proposal?”
“Close the diner for two weeks,” Mikhail stated. “Come stay at the Volkov estate as Misha’s personal culinary caretaker and guest. My compound is an impenetrable fortress. You will be safe, my son will eat, and I will have the freedom to erase the Callahan syndicate from Chicago without worrying about your life.”
