The Coffee Urn Incident

By sunrise, the penthouse library had been scrubbed clean, but the heavy tension remained. Dominic sat behind his desk while Sadie stood nervously near the door, clutching her cheap cloth coat. Medical professionals had checked her burns, and she was desperate to leave. “You’re free to go, Sadie,” Dominic said, sliding a thick white envelope across the mahogany desk. “Inside is enough cash to pay your rent for the next five years, plus medical compensation for your hands.” Sadie stared at the envelope as if it were radioactive. She pushed it back across the table. “I don't want your blood money, Mr. Russo. I just want to go back to my life and my diner job. Forget this ever happened.” Dominic’s eyebrows arched in genuine surprise. In his world, everyone wanted something—money, power, protection. This exhausted, broke waitress was turning down a small fortune because she valued her independence. Instead of dismissing her, Dominic’s interest deepened into something far more dangerous. He stood up, walking slowly toward her. “In my world, Sadie, debts are never forgotten. And saving my life? That’s a debt I can't let go of. Furthermore, after what happened tonight, your diner job isn't safe anymore. Carl Bennett and anyone connected to this event are already being watched.”