Chapter 3 A Stranger's Warning

Chapter 3: A Stranger's Warning

Elara's Point of View

My hand froze on the doorknob, my heart beating like a drum. The woman's voice came again, sharp and smooth. "Elara, open the door. I'm not here to hurt you."

I peeked through the peephole again. She was still there, her blonde hair shiny under the hallway light, her lips curled in a smile that didn't feel friendly. My phone sat on the table, the mystery text glowing: "Don't trust him, Elara. He's not who he says he is." My stomach twisted. Was this woman the one who sent it? I didn't know her, but she knew my name. And Dante's.

"Who are you?" I called, my voice shaky. I kept the door locked, my fingers tight on the knob.

"My name's Celeste," she said. "I know Dante Sinclair. And you need to know the truth about him."

I swallowed hard. The truth? What truth? I wanted to tell her to go away, but my hand moved before I could stop it. I unlocked the door and opened it just a crack, enough to see her better. She was tall, with fancy earrings and a coat that looked like it cost more than my rent. Her eyes were cold, like she was sizing me up.

"What do you want?" I asked, keeping the chain on the door.

She tilted her head, her smile growing. "Can I come in? It's not safe to talk out here."

I hesitated. My apartment was small, messy, with dishes in the sink and a pile of laundry on the couch. I didn't want her inside, but I needed answers. I slid the chain off and opened the door, stepping back. "Fine. But make it quick."

She walked in like she owned the place, her heels clicking on the floor. She glanced around, her nose wrinkling a little, but she didn't say anything. I closed the door and crossed my arms over my belly, feeling the baby kick. It made me stand taller, like I had to protect us both.

"Talk," I said, my voice firm.

She sat on the edge of my couch, crossing her legs. "Dante's not who you think he is," she said. "He's using you. That contract? It's a lie. He's done this before, you know. Made promises to girls like you, then tossed them aside when he got what he wanted."

My heart sank. "What are you talking about? I just met him yesterday."

Her eyes narrowed. "Did he tell you about his promise? To someone from your past?"

I nodded slowly, my mouth dry. "He said he promised someone to look out for me. But he didn't say who."

Celeste laughed, but it wasn't a nice sound. "Of course he didn't. That's how he works. He finds girls in trouble, offers them the world, then takes it all back. You think you're special? You're not. You're just the latest."

I felt like I'd been slapped. My hands shook, and I clenched them into fists. "Why should I believe you? I don't even know you!"

She leaned forward, her voice low. "Because I've known Dante since we were kids. I loved him once. I thought he loved me too, until he broke my heart. He's cold, Elara. He doesn't care about you or your baby. He's playing a game."

I stared at her, my head spinning. The contract was still on the table, its pages wrinkled from where I'd gripped it. I wanted to scream that she was wrong, that Dante's offer was real. But what if she was right? What if he was lying? The text on my phone burned in my mind. "Don't trust him."

"How do you know about me?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

She smirked. "I have my ways. Let's just say I keep an eye on Dante. When I heard he was sniffing around some pregnant waitress, I had to see for myself. And here you are, falling for his tricks."

I stepped back, my legs shaky. "Get out," I said. "I don't need this."

She stood, smoothing her coat. "Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you. Sign that contract, and you'll regret it." She walked to the door, then paused, looking back. "Oh, and that text you got? You're welcome."

My breath caught. "That was you?"

She didn't answer, just gave me that cold smile and walked out, her heels echoing in the hall. I locked the door behind her, my hands trembling so bad I could barely turn the bolt. I sank onto the couch, my heart racing. Celeste's words kept replaying in my head. "He's using you. He's done this before." Was it true? Was Dante playing me?

I grabbed the contract and read it again, my eyes scanning every word. It looked real, but what did I know? I was just a waitress, drowning in bills, with no one to trust. I put my hand on my belly, feeling another kick. "We're okay," I whispered, but my voice cracked.

I didn't sleep much that night. Every creak in the apartment made me jump, like Celeste might come back. By morning, my eyes were heavy, and my head hurt. I had to decide. Sign the contract and take Dante's help, or keep going alone, hoping I could make it. I didn't know what was worse-trusting a stranger or trusting no one.

At eleven, I dragged myself to the diner for my shift. My feet ached before I even started, and my apron felt tighter around my belly. Lucy was there, wiping down the counter, her gum snapping as usual.

"You look like you saw a ghost," she said, eyeing me. "What's wrong?"

I wanted to tell her everything. Dante, the contract, Celeste, but I didn't. Instead, I shrugged. "Just tired."

She didn't buy it, but she didn't push. "Table two's waiting," she said, handing me a notepad.

I worked on autopilot, pouring coffee, clearing plates, forcing smiles. But my mind was somewhere else. At noon, my phone rang in my pocket. I slipped into the back to check it. Another text from Dante.

"Did you decide? I'm at the park again. Same spot."

I stared at the screen, my stomach flipping. I didn't want to go, but I had to know. I had to face him. I told Mr. Jenkins I needed a break and walked to the park, the contract folded in my pocket. The air was chilly, and I hugged my coat tighter, my breath puffing out like smoke.

Dante was there, under the same oak tree, still in a suit. He looked up as I approached, his face unreadable. "Elara," he said, nodding. "You're here."

I stopped a few feet away, my hands in my pockets. "Someone came to my apartment last night," I said, watching his face. "Celeste. She said you're lying. That you've done this before."

His eyes darkened, but he didn't move. "Celeste Adam," he said, like the name tasted bad. "She's trouble. Don't listen to her."

"Why not?" I snapped. "She knew about the contract. She knew about me. And she said you're using me."

He stepped closer, and I backed up. "Elara, I'm not using you. Celeste is... she's jealous. She's been trying to get to me for years. Whatever she told you, it's not true."

"Then why's she so sure?" I asked, my voice loud. A kid nearby stopped kicking a ball to stare. "Why's she saying you've hurt other girls?"

Dante's jaw tightened. "Because she's hurt. And she wants to hurt me back. But I swear, Elara, my offer is real. I want to help you."

I pulled the contract from my pocket, holding it up. "Then tell me the truth. Who made you promise to look out for me? Why do you care?"

He looked away, his hands clenching. For a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer. Then he spoke, his voice low. "Your father."

I froze, my heart stopping. "My father? I don't even know him! He gave me up when I was a baby!"

Dante met my eyes, his face serious. "He was my friend. Before he died, he asked me to find you. To protect you. I didn't know you were pregnant until I found you, but I knew I had to keep my promise."

I stepped back, my head spinning. My father? The man who left me in foster care? I didn't know what to say. It felt like the ground was slipping under me. "You're lying," I whispered.

"I'm not," he said, reaching out. I jerked away, and he dropped his hand. "Elara, I."

A loud crack cut him off. I turned around, my heart beating. A black car screeched to a stop at the edge of the park, its tires kicking up dirt. The window rolled down, and I saw a man inside, his face hidden by sunglasses. He pointed something at us, something small and shiny. My breath stopped as I realized what it was.

"Get down!" Dante yelled, grabbing my arm and pulling me behind the tree just as a loud bang echoed through the park.