Chapter 2 - An Unsolicited Guardian
I didn't sleep a single minute that night. Every time I closed my eyes in my small fourth-floor apartment in Sunset Park, I saw Antonio Russo’s dark eyes staring down at me, hearing the quiet, heavy cadence of his voice echoing over the hum of the restaurant.
By seven o'clock the following evening, I was back on the floor at Bellarosa, trying desperately to focus on taking orders and tray-balancing. The Friday night rush was in full swing, the dining room packed with loud, affluent diners. Yet a strange, subtle shift had occurred among the staff.
Marco no longer yelled at me. In fact, he barely made eye contact. When he did hand me order tickets, he did so with a strange, nervous polite distance that felt entirely surreal.
At 8:30 PM, the heavy front doors swung open once again.
My heart slammed against my ribs, expecting Antonio Russo to walk through the entrance. But it wasn't the boss. Instead, two men in dark tailored suits stepped inside. One was a tall, broad-shouldered man in his late thirties with a shaved head and a broken nose—the very bodyguard who had stood behind Antonio the night before.
The pair swept their eyes over the dining room until they found me standing near the service station. They didn't sit down. They didn't ask for a table. They simply took up positions near the front entrance, standing like silent sentinels, their arms crossed loosely over their chests.
When my shift finally ended at midnight, I changed into my worn canvas jacket, gripped my purse tightly, and stepped out through the restaurant’s back exit into the chilly alleyway.
The alley was dark, illuminated only by a single flickering yellow security light. Rain had begun to fall, slicking the cobblestones. I pulled my hood over my hair and began walking rapidly toward the subway station three blocks away.
Footsteps echoed behind me. Heavy, measured, and unhurried.
I panicked, accelerating my pace, my heart pounding in my ears. I rounded the corner onto 5th Avenue, but the footsteps matched my speed effortlessly. I turned around sharply, my hand clutching the small can of pepper spray inside my coat pocket.
“Stop following me!” I shouted into the empty, rain-slicked street.
The tall bodyguard with the broken nose stepped out from the shadows beneath an awning. He didn't reach for a weapon or assume a hostile stance. Instead, he kept a respectful ten feet of distance, holding his hands visibly at his sides.
“Don't be frightened, Miss,” he said, his voice deep and raspy. “My name is Paul. Mr. Russo instructed us to ensure you make it home safely tonight. And every night after this.”
I stared at him, stunned. “I don't need an escort! I’ve been walking home from the subway alone for three years!”
“With all due respect, Miss Sophie,” Paul said calmly, bowing his head slightly, “three years ago, you hadn't caught the personal attention of the Russo family. In our line of work, people observe who Mr. Russo speaks to. Standing beside his mother makes you a visible person in Brooklyn. That brings certain risks from people who wish to gain leverage.”
A cold chill ran down my spine that had nothing to do with the falling rain. “Are you telling me I’m in danger because I gave an old lady her medicine?”
“I am telling you that Mr. Russo protects what he considers his own,” Paul corrected gently. “He considers you under his personal shadow now. My partner and I will remain at a distance. You won't even notice us unless something goes wrong.”
“This is insane,” I whispered, backing away. “I just want to pay my bills and finish my nursing degree. I don't want any part of this world!”
“Mr. Russo understands your desire for a quiet life,” Paul replied evenly. “Which is precisely why we are here to keep it quiet. Go home, Miss Sophie. Get some rest.”
May you like
I turned and ran the remaining two blocks to my apartment building, taking the stairs three at a time until I was safely behind my double-locked door. I stood in the dark entryway, peering through the small peephole down onto the street below.
Parked directly across from my building under the streetlamp was a sleek, dark sedan with tinted windows. It sat idling silently in the rain, a pair of watchful eyes keeping guard over my world.
