Chapter 1: The Woman Behind the Counter
Echoes of gunshots rang through the night.
Stephanie Brown froze with one hand wrapped around the café's closing sign.
For a second, she wondered if she had imagined it.
Then another gunshot cracked through the night.
Her fingers tightened around the sign.
The café suddenly felt too quiet.
The old refrigerator hummed behind her. The clock above the counter ticked toward midnight. Outside, Monteferro's narrow street was almost empty, its yellow streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement.
Stephanie slowly lowered the sign.
Footsteps approached the café.
The door burst open and a woman stumbled inside.
She was breathing heavily, her long blonde hair falling over her face. She looked over her shoulder before jumping over the counter and crouching down.
Stephanie stared at her.
"What are you doing?"
"Please," the woman said, clasping her hands together as if saying a prayer.
Stephanie's eyes narrowed.
Before she could ask another question, the café door opened again.
The bell above it jingled.
A man walked inside.
He was tall, dressed in black, and breathing as calmly as though he had simply walked in to order coffee.
His eyes moved around the room before stopping on Stephanie.
"Did you see anyone?"
Stephanie studied him.
There was something unusual about him.
She forced herself to relax.
"No."
His gaze remained on her.
"You heard the gunshots?"
"Yes."
"Did anyone run past here?"
Stephanie pointed toward the opposite side of the street.
"I saw shadows. They went that way."
The man glanced toward the window.
Stephanie watched him carefully.
There was blood on his sleeve.
"Should I call the police?" she asked.
"No”, he quickly answered.
Stephanie's instincts sharpened.
The man smiled.
"It isn't safe for a young woman to be alone outside this late."
"I'm closing the café."
"Mmm."
He turned toward the door.
Stephanie watched his hand.
He reached for the door handle, then stopped.
Something about his movement made her body react before her mind caught up.
His hand went inside his jacket.
Stephanie grabbed the scissors lying beside the register.
The man brandished a gun.
Stephanie threw the scissors at him.
They struck his chest.
He stumbled backward, and his gun fell from his hand.
The man crashed against the door before collapsing onto the floor.
Stephanie stared at him.
Her heart was pounding.
She looked toward the woman hiding behind the counter.
"Stay there."
She grabbed the old café telephone.
Her hand had barely reached the receiver when the woman came out.
"Don't."
Stephanie turned.
"Move."
"I can handle this."
"He's armed."
"So am I."
The woman's eyes darkened.
Stephanie took a step backward.
"Who are you?"
The woman didn't answer.
Instead, she lunged at her.
Stephanie tried to react, but the woman caught her from behind.
A cloth pressed against Stephanie's nose.
She struggled as her vision blurred.
The last thing she saw was the man lying on the floor, bleeding,
with the scissors sticking out of his chest.
Then everything went black.
****
Stephanie opened her eyes.
The café ceiling stared back at her.
She blinked and placed a hand on her head.
"Stephanie?"
She turned.
Her boss stood beside her, holding a box of vegetables.
"What happened?"
Stephanie pushed herself upright.
"I don't know."
Her boss frowned.
"You look pale."
Stephanie looked around the café.
Both the man and the woman were gone.
Only one thing remained: the scissors, lying in the exact same place they always were.
Stephanie stared at them.
Her boss followed her gaze.
"Did you hurt yourself?"
Stephanie quickly looked away.
"No."
She picked up the scissors.
"I think I was just tired."
Her boss sighed.
"You work too hard. Go home."
Stephanie nodded and dropped the scissors back in place.
Outside, the night air hit her face.
She ordered a ride and stood beneath the streetlight while waiting.
As the car approached, she looked back at the café.
For some reason, she had the strange feeling that someone was watching her.
She ignored it.
She had bigger things to worry about.
Her boyfriend had cheated on her.
She had left the United States with a broken relationship and a plan that was far more dangerous than anything she had ever attempted.
Her aunt had warned her not to leave for Italy yet.
The operation wasn't ready, but Stephanie had come anyway.
She had spent seven days in Monteferro.
Seven days working at a café despite having a university degree.
Seven days listening to men flirt with her.
Seven days pretending she was simply another young woman trying to start over.
Nobody knew why she was really there.
Nobody knew about Elijah Brown.
Nobody knew that her father had died in Monteferro.
Nobody knew the name that had followed her throughout her childhood.
De Luca.
Stephanie closed her eyes tightly.
She would deal with that later. For now, she wanted to live a normal life, even if it was only temporary.
