Chapter Four Daniel
Chapter Four
Daniel
Since Hayden and I decided to split up in two cars, I took the nurse with me. I told Hayden to take Roy with him and inform the others about what happened.
I’m dying to hear what Dad’s going to say about this.
But first, I have to deal with this woman. I know nothing about her. Not her name, not her job, not who she trusts. Before the mansion, I need paper — job, family, the usual background. No surprises.
She might’ve tried to save one of my men, but trust doesn’t come easy for someone like me. She could be a cop working undercover, for all I care.
And then, yeah, I’d definitely be fucked. I’d be pretty stupid to bring some unknown woman into the building not even some of our closest allies know about.
I might be uncertain about some things, but that?
Fuck, no. I’m not taking her with me before Hayden does a background check.
I just have to figure out where to take her first. But I’m pretty sure I got an idea already.
She’s been quiet for most of the ride. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that screams something is wrong.
And if I didn’t already know she’d just failed to save a dying man, I’d be more concerned.
It’s not that I’m not concerned or worried at all. I fucking am. And that bothers me.
Worrying about a woman isn’t something I typically do.
In fact, I don’t think I ever have. The only women I’ve cared about in my life are my mother and my sister—two people I’ve spent the last several years protecting.
My father laid down strict rules when he became the head of this family, and I’m certain we’ll all be thanking him for those rules until the day we die.
No harm to women. No harm to children. Never turn your back on your family.
Basic rules, but rules that separate us from the chaos my grandfather ruled over.
What he did back then was a total disaster, at least that’s what I’d assume based on all the shit my father told me about him.
I glance at her. She’s rigid, hands knotted in her lap like she’s trying to hold herself together.
“So,” I break the silence. “How are you?”
She doesn’t look at me, yet her voice seems soft but detached. “Fine. Just fine.”
She’s lying, obviously, but what else is she supposed to say?
She just watched a man die in her arms. I doubt anything I say will make her feel better, but that doesn’t mean I can’t try.
“So, the way you handled that situation… Are you a nurse, or something?” I try to lighten the mood, but she just nods instead of talking.
I guess she’s either not good at keeping conversations flowing or she just doesn’t want to.
I mean, choosing that topic is probably not the smartest thing I’ve done today.
So, I try something more… Natural. Or, well, I’m trying, okay?
“Did you have breakfast yet?” I ask casually, as if we’re having a normal everyday conversation. She shakes her head, her silky black hair falling over her shoulder.
“No. Why?” My focus heads back to the streets in front of us.
“I thought I’d get you something at a bakery. A coffee, maybe a cinnamon roll?” Fuck. It’s 8am. Who’d eat a cinnamon roll at this time?
For the first time since the meeting, the corners of her mouth twitch. A ghost of a smile.
“That would be nice.” I nod, satisfied. “Alright, then.” But God, I’m hoping she doesn’t actually get a cinnamon roll at 8am. That’d be insane.
Although, after the shit she had to witness this morning, I don’t think I’d judge her for wanting a sweet treat.
Yeah, I won’t. I’ll let her get whatever she wants. It’s none of my business, anyway.
Come to think of it, fuck it. I’d kill for a cinnamon roll right now.
I pull into a parking lot near the small, familiar coffee shop. It’s owned by my younger brother, Andrew, though the shop serves more than just pastries and caffeine.
It’s one of our money-laundering fronts. Andrew wasn’t thrilled when Dad suggested it, but he agreed — Andrew never lets the family down.
And if the freedom of having his own bakery meant he had to be our front, then so be it. That’s how he worded it, at least.
I park in my usual spot and get out of the car. Before she can open her door, I’m already there, pulling it open for her and offering her my hand.
She hesitates before taking it, her touch tentative but warm. I notice the faint blush on her cheeks as she steps out of the car, her gaze flicking away from mine.
She thanks me quietly, and I lock the car. Without thinking, I keep her hand in mine as we walk toward the shop.
She doesn’t seem to mind—or maybe she’s too lost in her own thoughts to notice. Just like I am.
The truth is, I don’t usually act like this. I’m not the kind of guy who holds hands or opens doors.
But something about her—her vulnerability, maybe—makes me soften slightly.
When we step inside, the sweet smell of fresh pastries and coffee fills the air.
My brother is behind the counter, focused on decorating a cupcake. He doesn’t notice us at first, but when he does, his face lights up in an instant.
“Welcome!” he says cheerfully, looking at the woman entering the café next to me.
I slowly let go of her hand. Shit. She smiles shyly and steps forward, her gaze flicking over the rows of pastries. “Hello there,” she answers softly.
Andrew’s eyes shift to me, and I give him a subtle glare. Please, shut your lips. Keep that mouth shut, just for today.
He knows better than to ask questions. But judging by the smirk forming on his lips, I already know what he’s thinking. Fuck.
“So, what can I get ready for the pretty lady?” he asks, his voice dripping with charm. Too fucking much charm, in my opinion.
Immediately, she giggles softly at the compliment, and I feel an unexpected twinge of irritation.
“I’d love a latte macchiato,” she says, her voice brighter than before.
“Oh, and do you have croissants? Preferably filled with chocolate. Or, actually, any other filling is okay as well. I’m not that picky.” I gulp, looking at her.
Now that we’re in a public setting, she’s different. She’s sweet. Real. And I have to try fucking hard not to find her attractive.
But sweet, charming women… Might be my weakness. Though I’d never tell anybody.
Andrew grins as he starts preparing her order. “You have good taste. Chocolate croissants are my specialty.”
I clear my throat, crossing my arms over my chest. “Maybe tone it down, Andrew,” I grumble.
He raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening. Jennifer looks up at me, her expression confused. After all, she has no idea we’re brothers.
“I’m just being polite,” Andrew says innocently, handing her the latte and croissant. “Here you go, miss. And what about you, Daniel? The usual?”
“You know it,” I mutter, watching as Jennifer takes her order into her hands. “You can take a seat somewhere, I’ll pay and join you afterwards”, I tell her, trying to be as polite as possible.
She simply nods before she sits at one of the small tables by the window, not saying anything further.
Once Andrew finishes my order, I join her at the table. She’s already taken a bite of her croissant, her expression softening as she’s savoring the taste.
“This is amazing,” she says, her voice full of genuine appreciation—and exhaustion.
I can’t truly tell if it’s only the mental exhaustion taking a toll on her, or if she simply needs some more sleep as well.
“Andrew’s really good at what he does,” I admit, glancing toward the counter where my brother is pretending not to eavesdrop. Tsk, that dork.
For a few moments, we sit in a tense, yet somehow comfortable silence.
I pull out my phone, scrolling through my messages until I find what I’m looking for. Fuck, do I love my underboss. Hayden’s quick and efficient. Just what I need.
Cameraman Who Never Dies
So I checked everything. She’s a nurse. No criminal record. She has a four-year-old daughter, and her boyfriend left her when she got pregnant. Don’t ask me how I found out. It was in her medical file for some reason.
*Attached files: jennifer.walsh.med.pdf
jennifer.walsh.profile.pdf
I tap a quick thanks, skim the files, then pocket the phone.
My focus is set back on the beautiful stranger in front of me, sipping on her coffee as if she doesn’t have a few traces of Roy’s blood on her hand.
I wiped at the blood with water and wet napkins. Some of it clung to the web of her fingers, darkening the skin.
But she doesn’t seem to care. Not yet. Honestly, I kinda admire her for that.
“So,” I say, turning my attention back to her. “Your name’s Jennifer, right?” She nods, her eyes guarded.
“Yes. How do you know?” She never mentioned it, but I know she’s a bit distraught, so she’ll probably not even question whether or not she has told me.
I smile, leaning back in my chair.
“You mentioned it earlier. Look, I want to help you. I know today wasn’t easy, but I don’t want you to feel alone in this situation.
I want to offer you my help. I’m sure it’d make your life easier.
I know what happened won’t be easy on your mind, and I want you to know that all I want… Is to help you. To take care of you.”
Her gaze softens slowly, but there’s still a hint of mistrust in her eyes. “Your name is Daniel, right?”
I simply chuckle in response. “Exactly. It’s Daniel. You remembered correctly.”
She blinks, her expression unreadable. But I can see her hand tremble slightly as she takes another sip of her coffee.
For now, I’ll give her space. Not much, but just enough. I don’t need her to trust me completely, not yet. However, what I need to do is keep her quiet.
And I know just the right way.
Gaining more information about her for our safety was one thing. But we can also use this information to make her an offer.
One which won’t affect me or my business, but which will make it impossible for her to decline.
It’s why I wanted to set up a work contract.