Chapter 2 - The Shadow Outside
The manager complied, his face burning red as he pulled out a plush leather chair for Emma. She didn't sit immediately. She backed into the seat with extreme caution, unlooping the faded bedsheet carrier to cradle the sleeping infant in her lap.
When the warm food arrived, the scent filled the air around table twelve. Emma’s hands trembled slightly, but she didn't gorge herself like an untrained child. She carefully cut a soft piece of potato, blew on it, and brought it to her mouth with deliberate, quiet grace.
William watched her, taking a slow sip of his water. "Where are your parents, Emma?"
Her fork paused halfway to the plate. "My mom died two months ago."
"And your father?"
"I don't have one," she said flatly. "It was just me and Mom. Then Noah came."
William frowned slightly. "If Noah is family, where did he come from?"
Before Emma could answer, a loud commotion broke out near the heavy glass doors at the front of Laurent’s.
A tall man in a soaked black leather jacket pushed past the host stand. He had sharp, dark eyes, a rugged jawline, and a scar running through his left eyebrow. He looked entirely out of place among the tuxedos and silk dresses, scanning the dining room with aggressive urgency.
Emma froze. All the color drained from her face.
"Noah," she whispered, her hands instantly pulling the baby tight against her chest.
She began to slip out of the booth, preparing to bolt toward the kitchen doors.
William stood up immediately. His six-foot-two frame towered over the table. He stepped into the aisle, blocking the view of table twelve just as the man’s eyes swept across the room.
"Can I help you?" the manager demanded, stepping toward the intruder with two beefy security guards behind him.
The man in the leather jacket pulled a laminated document from his inner pocket, flashing it at the manager's face. "I'm looking for a runaway kid. Eleven years old, carrying a baby. Her name is Emma. I'm her legal court-appointed guardian, Richard Vance. She ran off from our care facility yesterday."
The manager paused, looking toward table twelve.
William stepped forward, placing himself directly between the security team and Emma. He recognized Richard Vance instantly—not as a social worker, but as a dirty fixer tied to Vance Logistics, a shadowy maritime holding company William had fought in court during a corporate raid three years prior.
"She's not here," William said, his voice dropping into a cold tone that made the security guards freeze.
Richard Vance turned his gaze to William, a slow, predatory grin spreading across his face. "Mr. William Parker. What a surprise. But don't play hero tonight, Parker. That kid has something that belongs to my employers. Hand her over, or this gets very messy, very fast."
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Emma cowered behind William's coat, holding the baby so tightly Noah let out a soft cry.
"You're in my dining room, Vance," William said, pulling his leather wallet from his jacket and dropping a black American Express card onto a server's tray. "And whatever you think you're hunting, you're not getting it tonight."
