Chapter 5 - The Mastermind’s Inquiry"Who are you?"
Marcus’s voice was a low, gravelly baritone that vibrated through the floorboards. It wasn't a shout; it didn't need to be. The quiet deadliness in his tone commanded absolute obedience from everyone within a fifty-foot radius.
"My name is Hannah, sir," I replied, keeping my voice steady, though my pulse raced like a trapped bird against my ribs. "I'm a waitress here."
"A waitress who is fluent in American Sign Language," Marcus said slowly, narrowing his eyes. He didn't break eye contact. "Not many waitresses in downtown Chicago pick that up casually while clearing tables. Where did you learn it?"
"My sister," I lied smoothly—a fabrication I had rehearsed a thousand times for moments just like this. "She lost her hearing when we were teenagers. It became second nature to me."
Marcus studied me, his gaze analytical, dissecting every micro-expression on my face. He had spent decades sniffing out informants, undercover federal agents, and rival syndicate spies. He knew when someone was hiding something.
Before he could press further, Lily tugged urgently at his sleeve. She signed rapidly, pointing at me with an expression of fierce, childish protectiveness:
She is nice. Don't hurt her.
Marcus looked down at his daughter. For a fraction of a second, the iron-hard mask of the ruthless mafia boss cracked, revealing a deep, crushing sorrow. He gently placed a large, calloused hand on Lily's head, brushing a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear.
May you like
Then, he looked back up at me.
"Get back to work," Marcus said quietly. But as I turned to walk away, his final words brushed against my back like a cold wind: "We aren't finished talking, Hannah."
