Chương 4 - Shadows at Maple Street
The morning light did not bring peace; it brought a digital firestorm.
When I woke up at seven, my phone had forty-three unread text messages and fourteen missed calls.
The elite circles of Boston were apparently faster than the local news wires.
Rumors had already morphed the incident into something absurd.
Some claimed I had thrown a drink at Daniel Brooks; others whispered that Daniel had broken Marcus's fingers in the restaurant.
None of the texts were from people asking if I was all right.
They were all vultures looking for gossip.
I ignored every single one, pulled on an old wool cardigan, and walked the three blocks to Maple Street Books.
The smell of old paper, dust, and vanilla always acted as a balm for my nerves.
I flipped the sign to 'Open' and began arranging the front window display.
At ten in the morning, the brass bell above the door jingled sharply.
I looked up, expecting my usual elderly customer looking for crossword puzzles.
Instead, Jason stepped into the shop.
My ex-fiancé looked immaculate, his hair styled with expensive pomade, wearing the sheepskin-lined jacket I had helped him pick out two winters ago.
"Emily," he said, closing the door behind him and locking it with a sharp click.
My heart contracted with a sickening thud.
"What are you doing here, Jason?"
"The shop is closed for the next ten minutes," he said, walking toward the checkout counter with predatory confidence.
"We need to talk about what you pulled last night."
I backed away until the small of my back hit the heavy oak counter.
"I didn't pull anything."
"Marcus called me at three in the morning completely hysterical," Jason snarled, leaning across the counter.
"His family is facing financial ruin because you decided to play the damsel in distress with Daniel Brooks."
"Marcus set a trap for me, Jason," I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the tremor in my chest.
"He and Olivia invited me there to mock me."
"It was a joke, Emily!" Jason snapped, slamming his hand down on the aged wood.
"You always took everything so damn seriously."
"You were always so fragile, so pathetic, hiding behind your dusty books while the rest of us actually built lives."
The cruelty in his voice was familiar; it was the same tone he had used when he told me he had been sleeping with his law firm’s junior partner behind my back.
"Get out of my store," I whispered.
"Not until you call Brooks and tell him you lied," Jason ordered, his face inches from mine.
"Marcus’s father is a major client at my firm."
"If Marcus goes down, my promotion goes with him."
"You are going to fix this, Emily, or I swear to God I will make sure your landlord terminates your lease on this run-down dump by Friday."
Before I could reply, the shadow of a large silhouette fell over the frosted glass of the entrance.
The brass handle turned, found itself locked, and then stopped.
Jason laughed coldly.
"See? Customers are leaving already."
A split second later, the heavy oak door didn't unlock; it buckled inward with a terrifying crash of splintering wood and shattered brass.
Jason jumped back with a shout of alarm.
Stepping through the ruined doorway, calm and unbothered by the violence of his entrance, was Daniel Brooks.
Behind him stood two men in charcoal coats, their hands resting deliberately near the lapels of their jackets.
Daniel stepped into the dusty light of the bookstore, brushing an invisible speck of plaster from his sleeve.
May you like
"I believe the lady instructed you to leave," Daniel said, his voice terrifyingly quiet.
***
