Chapter 2 - THE QUESTION THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING
Natalia leaned slightly toward me.
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“Кто научил тебя говорить на этом диалекте?”
Who taught you to speak this dialect?
For a moment, I couldn't answer.
It wasn't the question itself that frightened me.
It was the way she asked it.
Not like a wealthy customer impressed by a waitress's language skills.
Like a woman who had just recognized something she had spent years trying to forget.
I kept my expression neutral.
“My university,” I answered in Russian.
Natalia's eyes narrowed.
“No.”
Dominic looked between us.
“What did she say?”
Natalia didn't answer him.
She continued staring at me.
“That isn't university Russian.”
Victor slowly put down his glass.
He had stopped smiling.
I felt every instinct telling me to leave the table.
Instead, I stood perfectly still.
Dominic finally laughed.
“Well, this got interesting.”
He turned toward me.
“Apparently my waitress has secrets.”
“I don't have secrets,” I said.
Natalia's gaze dropped to my left hand.
Then she looked back at my face.
“Your father was Daniel Harper.”
The tray in my hand suddenly felt much heavier.
I hadn't heard my father's name spoken in Russian in years.
My father had been dead for three years.
To everyone at Le Rêve, he had simply been a man who died leaving behind medical debt and a daughter who had stopped pursuing her career to pay it.
I stared at Natalia.
“How do you know my father?”
Dominic's smile disappeared.
Victor looked sharply at Natalia.
“Natalia.”
She ignored him.
“Your father translated for the Minsk negotiations.”
I felt my heartbeat change.
Four years earlier, Daniel Harper had worked as a freelance interpreter for international energy and logistics negotiations.
I had spent years listening to him discuss contracts at our kitchen table.
But he had never told me about Minsk.
Not once.
“You knew him,” I said.
Natalia nodded.
“He saved my life.”
Dominic leaned forward.
“That's enough.”
“No,” Natalia said.
Her voice was suddenly firm.
“It's not.”
Dominic looked annoyed.
“Victor, explain to me why your guest knows my waitress.”
Victor didn't answer immediately.
He looked at me instead.
“Your father died three years ago?”
“Yes.”
“Car accident?”
I nodded.
Victor's expression hardened.
“It wasn't an accident.”
The restaurant seemed to become strangely quiet.
I heard silverware from another table.
A cork being removed near the bar.
Soft piano music.
But my entire world had narrowed to Victor's face.
“What did you say?”
Victor lowered his voice.
“Your father was investigating something.”
“What?”
Natalia answered.
“People disappearing from the European logistics network.”
Dominic's jaw tightened.
“Natalia.”
She finally looked at him.
“You wanted her attention.”
“I wanted to embarrass her.”
“I know.”
Her voice became colder.
“You got something much more dangerous instead.”
Dominic looked at me.
For the first time that evening, he wasn't looking at a waitress.
He was looking at a problem.
Simon appeared beside the table.
“Mr. Pierce, is everything—”
Dominic cut him off.
“Leave.”
Simon looked at me.
I gave him the smallest nod.
He walked away.
Dominic picked up his whiskey.
“Let's start again.”
He looked at me.
“Who taught you Russian?”
“My father.”
That answer was true.
Just incomplete.
“What did he teach you?”
“Languages.”
Dominic smiled faintly.
“Only languages?”
I met his eyes.
“My father believed knowing what people were saying was more useful than knowing what they wanted you to hear.”
Victor's expression changed.
Natalia looked down.
Dominic stopped smiling.
Then his phone vibrated.
He checked the screen.
His face hardened.
He stood.
“We're leaving.”
Victor didn't move.
“We haven't finished.”
Dominic looked at him.
“Yes, we have.”
“No.”
Victor calmly reached for his wineglass.
“We're going upstairs.”
Dominic stared at him.
“That's not happening.”
“It is if you want the European contract.”
I looked between them.
The restaurant suddenly felt much smaller.
Victor stood.
“Miss Harper.”
I stiffened.
“How do you know my last name?”
“Your name tag.”
I looked down.
Of course.
He smiled slightly.
“Don't worry. I don't intend to involve you.”
Natalia stood too.
“I do.”
She turned toward me.
“Your father left something with me.”
My breath caught.
“What?”
Natalia reached into her handbag.
She removed a small photograph.
It showed my father standing beside three people outside a hotel.
One was Natalia.
Another was Victor.
The third man was Dominic.
But Dominic looked much younger.
And my father was holding a black leather folder.
I stared at the photograph.
“Where did you get this?”
“Your father gave it to me.”
“When?”
“Two weeks before he died.”
My hands began shaking.
Dominic suddenly stepped forward and took the photograph from Natalia.
His face changed.
“Where did you find this?”
Natalia looked at him.
“You remember.”
Dominic's fingers tightened around the photograph.
I noticed something.
On my father's wrist was a watch.
A simple silver watch with a dark leather strap.
I knew that watch.
It had disappeared the night my father died.
I had searched his apartment for weeks.
“That's my father's watch.”
Natalia nodded.
“He gave it to you?”
“No.”
She looked at Dominic.
“Dominic took it.”
The room went silent.
Dominic stared at her.
“You don't know what you're talking about.”
“I know exactly what I'm talking about.”
Victor stepped between them.
“Enough.”
Then I noticed something else.
The photograph wasn't old enough to be from four years ago.
There was a timestamp printed in the corner.
It was dated eleven days before my father's death.
But Dominic had told everyone he hadn't seen Daniel Harper in years.
I looked at him.
“You lied.”
His eyes met mine.
And for the first time that night, I saw something behind his arrogance.
Fear.
Dominic slowly reached into his jacket.
I thought he was going for a weapon.
Instead, he pulled out a small silver watch.
My father's watch.
He placed it on the table.
Then he said quietly,
“Your father didn't die because of what he knew.”
May you like
He looked directly at me.
“He died because of what he gave me.”
