Chapter 7 Are You Going on a Date?
Gradually, the restaurant became quieter.
The earlier crowd disappeared, leaving only a handful of customers scattered around the tables. The noise had faded to a low murmur, and Stella finally felt some of the heaviness inside her begin to lift.
She was already planning to wrap up the restaurant for the evening when the bell above the door rang again.
Stella looked toward the entrance.
A man walked inside.
He was disheveled and dirty, his clothes rumpled and his appearance almost as worn as his face. The moment Stella recognized him, her entire body stiffened.
David.
She knew that familiar face too well.
Greed was written all over his expression as he spotted her. Without hesitation, he charged directly toward the counter, his footsteps heavy against the floor.
He stopped in front of her and slammed one hand down on the counter.
“Stella,” he said.
The man was in his late fifties, yet he looked closer to seventy. His face was weathered, his appearance neglected, and there was something ugly and entitled in his eyes that immediately made Stella’s patience disappear.
“I haven’t seen Darla. Is she around?”
Stella's expression hardened.
“You have nothing to do with her. Get out of here.”
David stared at her for a moment before a mocking smile slowly spread across his face.
“I need fifty thousand dollars.”
He extended his hand toward her as though she were simply supposed to place the money into his palm.
Stella looked at his outstretched hand, then back at his face with open disgust.
“You know you’re not getting anything out of me, right? Get the fuck out of here before I call the police on you, David.”
Her voice cracked like a whip across the nearly empty café.
David let out a loud, disbelieving scoff. Anger immediately replaced his mocking amusement as he straightened and glared at her.
“You haven’t forgotten how I controlled her, have you?”
He twisted his neck slightly, his expression becoming more arrogant.
“All I had to do was wiggle one finger, and she would come running to me.” His lips curled into another unpleasant smile. “You haven’t forgotten how she always used to come running to me, right?”
Stella's hands curled into fists at her sides.
“If you don’t want me to go to her again, then give me fifty thousand dollars. And I promise I’ll disappear for a week.”
He said it with a sweet smile, as though he had just offered her a generous bargain.
Stella's anger grew with every word.
Aunt Darla had been married to this man for a long time, and during those years, he had taken advantage of her again and again. He had beaten her, controlled her, and completely ruined the years she should have been able to live freely.
It had taken her far too long to finally see him for what he was and divorce him.
But even after the divorce, David had refused to disappear.
He had continued haunting Darla like a parasite she could never completely get rid of.
Stella glared at him, her patience finally gone.
“If you don’t leave, I’m calling the police. This is my private property. It’s not yours, and you have no right to be here.”
She didn’t wait for an answer.
She reached beneath the counter, grabbed her phone, and immediately dialed the police. The call began to ring.
“Hello, this is the police department—”
David’s expression changed instantly.
The smugness vanished from his face, replaced by sudden fear. He took a step backward, his eyes darting toward the door.
“Fine. I’m leaving.”
But before he turned away, his face twisted with anger.
“But don’t think I’m going to forget this. And don’t think I won’t take revenge on Darla.” His voice dropped into a threatening tone. “You’ve finally tested my patience. You’ve displeased me, and I’m going to make sure I get what I want from her.”
He pointed a threatening finger toward Stella before turning around and storming out of the restaurant.
Stella remained behind the counter, her body stiff as she watched him disappear through the glass doors.
The anger on his face disturbed her more than she wanted to admit.
She let out a deep, frustrated breath and rubbed her forehead with her fingertips, trying to ease the tension that had gathered there. After a moment, she lowered the phone and ended the call.
Outside, David walked away from the restaurant, his anger quickly giving way to desperation.
Money was the only thing he cared about.
He had been drowning in debt for years. Darla had paid off his debts several times, but it had never been enough to change him. He had a habit of getting involved in card games and buying lottery tickets, always convinced that one lucky break would make him a billionaire overnight.
He kept trying.
And trying.
But he had never won even once.
Instead, he had accumulated more and more debt until the people he owed money to were practically breathing down his neck. The loans had piled up so high that he knew they were done waiting.
“If she doesn’t give me the money today, they’re going to cut off my fucking hands!” he screamed, his voice cracking with panic. He grabbed his wrists as though he could already feel the blade against his skin.
He stumbled across the street, barely able to keep himself upright. He was drunk almost to the point of collapse, a bottle hanging loosely from his hand as he staggered along the empty street.
“I have to get to Darla.” He took another drink, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “If I can get some money out of that bitch, I can use it to buy another lottery ticket. I’ll win this time. I know I will.”
His eyes lit up at the thought, and a drunken grin spread across his face.
“I’ll be rich. Fucking rich. And then those bastards who keep coming after me will be begging me for money. They’ll be kissing my ass, begging me for favors.”
He drank again and continued stumbling forward.
He barely noticed the black car that came to a stop nearby.
Before David could properly react, four men dressed entirely in black suddenly jumped out of the vehicle.
They moved toward him without saying a word.
David's eyes widened.
“What the—”
The first blow sent him staggering backward.
Then the others joined in.
The empty street filled with the sounds of the brutal assault as David tried to protect himself, raising his arms and stumbling backward, but he was hopelessly outnumbered.
He cried out and struggled to catch his breath, but there was little he could do against four men who had clearly come prepared.
The beating continued beside the black car until David could barely remain conscious, his body crumpled on the pavement as he struggled for breath.
The four men eventually stepped away.
For a moment, the street fell silent again.
The black car remained beside him, its dark windows revealing nothing about the people inside.
A short distance away, a figure stood in silence, watching the scene unfold.
Lucius leaned against the side of the black car, a cigarette held between his fingers. The faint glow at its tip illuminated his face whenever he drew on it, but it did little to soften the dangerous expression in his eyes.
He watched without saying a word as David was beaten bloody on the deserted street. His face remained cold and unreadable, but the hard set of his jaw and the darkness in his gaze revealed the depth of his displeasure.
A few moments later, Nial approached him quietly.
“Mr. Frost,” he said, stopping at a respectful distance. “I’ve made him understand. David is going to leave the city and never come back.”
Lucius took another drag from his cigarette, his gaze never leaving David.
Then he gave Nial a brief nod.
Nial immediately turned away and walked back toward his men, allowing them to continue the beating.
Lucius remained where he was, his attention fixed on David as one of the men seized him by the back of his neck and hauled him off the ground before throwing him several feet away from the road.
Only then did Lucius finally speak, his voice low enough to be almost lost beneath the sounds of the struggle.
“I waited an entire year for Stella to come back to Manhattan,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he watched David. “I won’t let anyone make her leave this city again.”
He took one last drag from his cigarette before lowering it to his side, his expression hardening.
“No one is going to come between us ever again.”
Nial returned a few minutes later, adjusting the cuff of his jacket as he approached.
“I’ve already arranged for Frost Group to invest in Licius,” he reported. “The investment will give them the financial support and resources they need to expand much faster. We’ve also managed to bring their board members over to our side.”
He glanced briefly toward Lucius before continuing.
“Mr. Frost, they were initially hesitant because so many people have invested in the company, and the final decision-makers are connected to Miss Gibson. But I convinced them to accept our offer. The terms are favorable, and most of them were more than willing to agree. Everything is almost finalized.”
Nial’s voice held a note of satisfaction.
Lucius barely reacted.
His attention had already drifted elsewhere.
He remembered how excited Stella had been the day she told him that her restaurant had won a national competition. She had rushed into his office with a smile bright enough to transform her entire face, thrown her arms around him, and jumped into his embrace.
Then she had kissed him.
It had been sudden and breathless, filled with so much genuine happiness that he had barely had time to react before her body pressed against his.
For one brief, humiliating moment, Lucius Frost, a grown man who could command an entire boardroom with a single look, had been completely overwhelmed by a woman’s kiss.
He had quickly set her back on her feet and moved her aside before she could notice the unmistakable effect she had on him.
“Congratulations,” he had murmured in a strained voice.
Then he had walked away far more quickly than necessary, unwilling to let her see how thoroughly she had managed to unravel his composure.