Chapter 4 - SHE REQUESTED MY TABLE
I had spent years serving cruel customers.
None of them had ever frightened me after they left.
Victoria did.
Because now I knew she had not simply noticed me.
She had chosen me.
I looked toward the restaurant manager standing near the private-room door.
“Who assigned me this table?”
He hesitated.
Victoria immediately said, “Don’t answer that.”
Dominic turned toward him.
“Answer her.”
The manager swallowed.
“Mrs. Russo requested Ms. Miller.”
My chest tightened.
“When?”
“Three days ago.”
I stared at Victoria.
“You knew my name before tonight.”
She lifted her chin.
“I prefer competent servers.”
“You just called me illiterate.”
No response.
Dominic’s expression became dangerously calm.
“Why did you request her?”
Victoria picked up her purse.
“I’m leaving.”
Dominic did not raise his voice.
“Sit down.”
Something about his tone made even me uncomfortable.
Victoria remained standing.
Then I remembered my academic article.
It had been published under my full name:
CASEY ANNE MILLER.
The article specifically mentioned the Kessler Maritime Accord.
I had argued that surviving English copies contained language inconsistent with the original German legal vocabulary.
At the time, it had felt like obscure academic work nobody outside my field would ever notice.
But someone had noticed.
Victoria.
“Did you read my article?” I asked.
Her silence answered me.
Dominic looked at his wife.
“You knew there was a translation problem.”
“No.”
“You found Casey.”
“I research everyone who works around us.”
“Why?”
“Because unlike you, I understand security.”
Dominic almost smiled.
It was not a warm smile.
Then my phone rang.
Mom.
I answered immediately.
“Mom?”
Her breathing sounded uneven.
“Casey, are you at work?”
“Yes.”
“Listen carefully.”
I glanced at Dominic.
“What’s wrong?”
There was a pause.
Then Mom said something she had never told me in twenty-six years.
“I worked for Charles Vale.”
Victoria’s father.
My grip tightened around the phone.
Mom continued.
“And if his daughter knows who you are, you need to leave that restaurant.”
“Why?”
Another pause.
“Because twenty-seven years ago, Charles Vale asked me to change one word in a translation.”
I looked at the word I had just circled.
Trustee.
May you like
Mom whispered:
“I refused.”
