CHAPTER 1 — THE KISS THAT TURNED THE WHOLE RESTAURANT SILENT
The restaurant had been loud one second.
Then Vincent DeLuca stood up.
And every sound disappeared.
I was still holding the silver serving tray when I saw him rise from the table by the window.
For three years, I had learned how to make myself invisible.
Invisible when customers complained.
Invisible when men stared.
Invisible when Tyler told me my clothes made me look cheap.
Invisible when my mother needed money and I worked double shifts instead of sleeping.
But Vincent had always looked at me as if disappearing had never been an option.
He was the kind of man people noticed without meaning to.
Six-foot-four.
Broad shoulders.
Black suit.
Dark hair combed neatly away from his forehead.
A face that never seemed surprised by anything.
There were stories about Vincent DeLuca all over Chicago.
Some called him a billionaire businessman.
Others called him a kingmaker.
There were politicians who answered his calls before their own families.
There were businessmen who lowered their voices whenever his name came up.
And there were men who simply refused to speak about him at all.
I had never believed the worst rumors.
I didn't know him well enough to believe anything.
I only knew that every Thursday night, he sat at the same table near the window.
Black coffee.
No sugar.
No conversation.
And whenever I brought it to him, his eyes followed me for exactly three seconds.
Never more.
Never less.
Until tonight.
Tonight, his eyes were different.
Because Tyler had finally said the thing I had spent years trying not to hear.
"Who could ever love a woman like you?"
My fingers tightened around the tray.
Tyler laughed.
Vanessa laughed with him.
She was standing beside him in a white dress that probably cost more than my monthly rent.
Her engagement ring glittered under the chandelier.
Twenty minutes earlier, Tyler had proposed to her.
Twenty minutes.
That was all the time it had taken for him to erase three years of my life.
"You know what your problem is, Emily?" Tyler said.
I didn't answer.
"You still think you're special."
A few customers looked over.
I wished they wouldn't.
Tyler stepped closer.
"You were never beautiful."
My throat tightened.
"And you were never worth fighting for."
Vanessa slipped her arm through his.
"Tyler, stop," she said.
But the smile on her face told me she didn't mean it.
He continued.
"Look at her."
I looked down.
My black waitress uniform suddenly felt too tight.
"She thinks having a good heart makes up for everything."
Vanessa tilted her head.
"Some people confuse kindness with attractiveness."
They laughed.
I felt heat crawl up my neck.
I wanted to leave.
But I couldn't.
My mother needed the money.
Rent was due in eight days.
And I had exactly forty-three dollars in my bank account.
So I swallowed my pride.
Again.
Then Tyler leaned toward me.
His voice dropped.
"Who could ever love a woman that fat?"
The words hit harder than they should have.
Maybe because I had heard them before.
From him.
From strangers.
From mirrors.
Maybe because some part of me had spent years wondering if he was right.
I looked at Vanessa.
Perfect hair.
Perfect makeup.
Perfect body.
Then I looked at myself.
Messy ponytail.
Tired eyes.
A small stain on my sleeve.
And suddenly I hated myself for comparing us.
Tyler smiled.
"Exactly."
Then a chair moved.
Slowly.
Across the restaurant.
I looked up.
Vincent DeLuca was walking toward us.
Nobody spoke.
He didn't hurry.
He didn't need to.
People simply moved out of his way.
Tyler's smile disappeared.
Vincent stopped in front of me.
His eyes moved from my face to the trembling tray in my hands.
"Give me that."
I blinked.
"What?"
"The tray."
My hands wouldn't move.
Vincent gently took it from me.
He placed it on the nearest table.
Then he looked at Tyler.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
"Say it again."
Tyler swallowed.
"I—"
"You seemed very confident a moment ago."
Tyler glanced at Vanessa.
She suddenly looked nervous.
Vincent took one step closer.
"Say what you said to her."
Tyler's jaw tightened.
"This doesn't concern you."
Vincent smiled.
It wasn't a friendly smile.
"Everything in this room concerns me."
Nobody moved.
Nobody breathed.
I whispered, "Mr. DeLuca..."
He looked at me.
And something in his expression changed.
The coldness disappeared.
For one impossible second, he looked almost gentle.
Then he reached up.
His fingers touched my chin.
I froze.
"Emily."
The way he said my name made my heart stumble.
Not because he knew it.
He had seen my name on my uniform countless times.
But because he said it like he'd been saying it for years.
Then he kissed me.
Softly.
Not violently.
Not possessively.
Just enough to make the entire restaurant understand that Tyler no longer had the right to speak for me.
When Vincent pulled away, I couldn't breathe.
Tyler exploded.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Vincent didn't even look at him.
He looked at me.
"You okay?"
I nodded automatically.
I wasn't.
My entire body was shaking.
Vincent picked up his coat.
Then he placed a thick stack of bills on the table.
"For the restaurant."
The manager appeared instantly.
"Mr. DeLuca, there's no need—"
"There is."
Vincent looked at me one last time.
"Come with me."
I stared at him.
"Why?"
His eyes held mine.
"Because if you stay here, they'll convince you that what they said was true."
I followed him outside.
Rain was falling over Chicago.
Cold drops struck my face.
Vincent stood beneath the black awning.
I stopped several feet away.
"What was that?"
He didn't answer.
"You kissed me."
"I did."
"You don't even know me."
His expression remained calm.
"I know more than you think."
I laughed nervously.
"Was that supposed to make me feel better?"
"No."
He stepped closer.
"It was supposed to make them stop."
I folded my arms.
"I don't need your pity."
Vincent's eyes sharpened.
"If pity were the reason, Emily..."
He paused.
"...I would have kept walking."
My heart stopped.
A black SUV waited at the curb.
One of Vincent's men stood beside it.
He approached quietly.
"Sir."
Vincent turned.
"The video is already online."
My stomach dropped.
"What video?"
"The restaurant."
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
Someone had recorded everything.
Tyler humiliating me.
Vincent kissing me.
My worst moment was already becoming entertainment for strangers.
I whispered, "This is a nightmare."
Vincent looked at me.
"No."
"What?"
"This is the first time people are finally going to see you."
I frowned.
"I don't understand."
He stared at me for several seconds.
Then he said something that made the rain feel suddenly colder.
"I've been looking for you for seven years."
I stopped breathing.
"Looking for me?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Vincent didn't answer immediately.
His gaze moved toward the dark Chicago skyline.
Then back to me.
"Because seven years ago, someone tried to make you disappear."
My heart began pounding.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"I know."
"Then why are you here?"
"Because tonight changed everything."
He stepped closer.
"After tonight, everyone who needs to know you're alive knows exactly where to find you."
Alive.
The word made no sense.
I stared at him.
"What does that mean?"
Vincent's jaw tightened.
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
"Talk."
A voice on the other end said something I couldn't hear.
Vincent's face changed.
For the first time since I'd met him, I saw genuine fear.
Not for himself.
For me.
He hung up.
"Get in the car."
"Why?"
"Because they found you."
I looked around the rain-soaked street.
"Who?"
Vincent opened the SUV door.
His voice was almost a whisper.
"The people your father spent seven years hiding you from."
And suddenly, I understood.
I had spent my entire life believing I was ordinary.
Poor.
Forgettable.
Invisible.
But Vincent DeLuca had just told me the truth.
I wasn't invisible.
May you like
I had been hidden.
And somebody had just found me.
