Chapter 3 The Restaurant that Remembers

Victor Lang

The Manhattan skyline glittered through my penthouse window, a jagged crown of steel and ambition, but my eyes were glued to the laptop screen. Alexander Kane's smug face stared back from a grainy photo: some tech conference last year, him shaking hands like he owned the world. I sneered, swirling the bourbon in my glass. Kane thought he was untouchable, his AI empire a fortress. But I'd found his crack: a stupid bet, his pride, and a girl who'd burn it all down.

Elena Vasquez. I'd picked her resume myself, sifting through hundreds on that job board. Twenty-five, broke, desperate. Perfect. Her fire was obvious even on paper: restaurant books balanced under pressure, bilingual, no bullshit. She'd be Kane's type: a challenge, not another simpering assistant. Three months to make her fall for him, or he'd lose the merger that'd keep Kane Innovations on top. I'd rigged the game from the start. She'd hate him when she found out, and I'd be there to light the match.

My phone vibrated on the glass desk. A text from my guy in Brooklyn: Vasquez left the estate. Black car dropped her at her apartment. Want us to tail? I smirked. Not yet. Let her settle in, think she's safe. I typed back: Watch, don't touch. Updates daily.

I leaned back, the leather chair creaking. Kane had no idea how deep this went. His company's software exposed my father's embezzlement a decade ago, left him rotting in prison, left me to claw my way up alone. Every deal I lost to Kane since was a knife twist. This merger was my shot: control the AI security market, crush him. The bet? Just icing. Humiliate him, make him bleed, then take it all.

A knock at the door. "Mr. Lang?" My assistant, Claire, poked her head in, all nervous efficiency. "Your 2 p.m. with the board is confirmed. Also, that other matter. The Brooklyn contact called."

I waved her off. "Tell him to wait. I'll handle it."

She nodded, scurrying out. Good. Fewer questions, better. The "Brooklyn contact" was Frankie, a loan shark who'd sunk his claws into Elena's family years ago. Their restaurant's collapse wasn't an accident, I'd nudged Frankie to offer that loan, knowing they'd default. Now, Elena's desperation was my leverage. If Kane got too close, Frankie could tighten the screws. A threat here, a late-night visit there. She'd crack, and Kane would falter.

I opened my laptop, pulling up the encrypted email I'd sent Kane last week. Bet's on, tame the spitfire in three months, or hand over the merger. You've got your mark. His reply was cocky: You're on, Lang. Prepare to lose. Idiot. He didn't know I'd hacked his assistant's hiring portal, cherry-picked Elena to make it personal. Her file had everything: debt records, hospital bills for her mom, even her brother's school transcripts. Vulnerable, but fierce. She'd fight Kane's charm, make him sweat. And when she learned the truth? She'd burn his world down.

My phone buzzed again; Frankie. I answered, keeping my voice low. "What?"

"Vasquez is back in Brooklyn tonight," he rasped, all gravel and greed. "Her mom's coughing up a lung. Kid brother's asking questions. You want me to lean on 'em?"

I glanced at the photo of Elena from her application: dark eyes, defiant jaw. "Not yet. Keep the pressure light. Calls, notes. Scare her, don't break her."

Frankie grunted. "Fine. But my cut's due."

"You'll get it when Kane's out of the game." I hung up, my pulse steady. Control was my drug, and I was high.

The penthouse was quiet, save for the hum of the city below. I stood, pacing to the window. Kane's mansion was out there, a speck in the Hamptons' glow. He'd hired her yesterday, probably had her sorting his life by now. I pictured her in that glass palace, out of place in her cheap clothes, catching his eye. He'd fall for her, he couldn't help it. Men like Kane loved a challenge, and Elena was a wildfire. But wildfires burn out, and I'd be there with the gasoline.

Another email pinged. My mole in Kane's staff, a driver, loyal to my cash, sent a photo: Elena at the mansion's gate, duffel in hand, looking like she'd conquer the world. I laughed. Poor girl. She thought this job was her salvation. She didn't know she was a pawn in a game rigged to ruin her.

I typed a quick message to Kane, baiting him: How's your new toy working out? Hope she's worth the merger. No reply yet. Good. Let him stew.

The bourbon burned my throat as I sipped. This wasn't just about the merger anymore. It was about proving Kane wasn't invincible. About tearing down the man who'd torn down my family. Elena was the key: his weakness, my weapon. I'd push her to the edge, let her discover the bet, watch her shatter him. And if she got too close to the truth about her family's loan? Well, Frankie knew how to tie up loose ends.

I closed the laptop, the city's lights pulsing like a heartbeat. Three months. Ninety days to break Alexander Kane. Elena Vasquez was my ace, and I'd play her until the board was mine.