Chapter 9 - COFFEE IN DAYLIGHT
Their first date happened at eleven in the morning.
Eden chose the café.
Crowded.
Bright.
No private booths.
No back entrances controlled by Ferraro.
Nico arrived five minutes early.
Of course.
No suit.
Dark sweater.
Still looked dangerous.
Less like headline.
More like man.
Eden sat across.
“This is weird.”
“Yes.”
“You usually have guards?”
“Yes.”
“Where are they?”
“Far.”
“How far?”
He hesitated.
She stared.
“Two blocks.”
“Nico.”
“Learning.”
She almost smiled.
They ordered coffee.
Eden black.
Nico espresso.
“Rich people drink tiny coffee.”
“Efficient.”
“Pretentious.”
“Maybe.”
Silence.
Not bad.
Then Eden said:
“I don’t want gratitude mistaken for love.”
Nico looked at her.
“Neither do I.”
“I saved your life.”
“Yes.”
“You protected mine.”
“Yes.”
“That creates intensity.”
“Yes.”
“I am not becoming your reward for leaving crime.”
His face hardened slightly.
“I would never.”
“Good.”
“And I am not asking you to become mine.”
Important.
Eden relaxed.
“Good.”
Nico continued:
“I like you.”
She laughed.
“That sounds painful.”
“It is inconvenient.”
“Better.”
He smiled.
Small.
Real.
They talked.
Not syndicates.
Mostly.
Eden told him about culinary school she never attended because medical debt.
Nico told her he wanted architecture before father died.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“Buildings?”
“Systems.”
“That tracks.”
He drew buildings as teen.
Stopped.
Bosses did not sketch.
“Start again.”
He looked at her.
“Maybe.”
Coffee ended after fifty-eight minutes.
Eden paid her half.
Nico objected.
She ignored.
Progress.
Outside, Owen waited across street.
Not approaching.
Eden saw.
Nico did too.
“You want me to remove him?”
“No.”
“Want me to speak?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
Eden walked toward father.
Nico stayed.
Ten feet.
Choice.
Owen looked nervous.
“I’m sorry.”
Bad first sentence.
True.
Eden folded arms.
“Why did you leave?”
“Your mother asked.”
“Did you want to?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Dante found me.”
“He threatened you?”
“Yes.”
“Me?”
“You and Evan.”
“What did Mom say?”
“To disappear.”
“So you did.”
“Yes.”
“You never checked?”
“I did.”
Eden’s face hardened.
“From distance?”
“Yes.”
Of course.
Protection surveillance.
Same disease.
“You watched us bury you?”
“No. Margaret said construction death, no funeral body.”
Still.
“She told us you were dead.”
“Yes.”
“You let her.”
“Yes.”
“Why now?”
“North Meridian arrests.”
“You feel safe.”
“Safer.”
Eden laughed bitterly.
“I don’t.”
Owen looked down.
“I know.”
“No. You don’t.”
She breathed.
“What do you want?”
“To know you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re my daughter.”
“No.”
He flinched.
Eden continued:
“Biology gets you a conversation. Not relationship.”
Owen nodded.
“Fair.”
“Do you understand I may never want more?”
His face hurt.
“Yes.”
“Do not show up at my job.”
“Yes.”
“Do not follow me.”
“Yes.”
“Do not call unless I give number.”
“Yes.”
Eden looked at him.
He accepted conditions.
Good.
She wrote email on receipt.
“Start there.”
Owen took.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
She left.
Nico walked beside her.
“You didn’t intervene.”
“You told me not to.”
“Good.”
“You looked like you might hit him.”
“I considered.”
Eden laughed.
“Very mature.”
“I’m thirty-two.”
“Debatable.”
Weeks passed.
Nico’s relationship with Sofia remained complicated.
He visited.
Argued.
Listened.
No instant forgiveness.
Good.
Eden emailed Owen.
Short.
Facts.
No childhood nostalgia.
Maybe later.
Saint Agnes Center opened first office.
Debt relief.
Trafficking survivor legal aid.
Emergency housing.
Eden insisted no Ferraro branding.
Nico agreed.
Bellini trial preparation began.
Eden testified grand jury.
Evan too.
Sofia.
Gallo.
Even Arthur.
Old structure cracked publicly.
Nico was charged with two counts related to prior logistics fraud and bribery.
He pled guilty under cooperation.
Eden did not tell him to fight.
He did not ask her to wait.
Sentence pending.
They continued coffee dates.
Then dinner.
Then one movie where Nico complained plot made no sense.
Eden told him criminals were bad consultants.
He said obviously.
One night, outside her repaired apartment, Nico kissed her.
Only after asking.
“Can I?”
She smiled.
“Terrifying mob boss asking permission.”
“Former.”
“Still terrifying.”
“Eden.”
“Yes.”
The kiss was quiet.
No guns.
No debt.
No gratitude.
Choice.
Then she pulled back.
“Slow.”
“Yes.”
He meant it.
Three months after steakhouse shooting, Bellini’s attorney offered deal.
Life? Let's avoid exact legal. Cooperation for sentence.
He named higher-level buyers.
Politicians.
Factory owners.
Security firms.
North Meridian network larger than families.
Federal raids expanded.
Then Agent Kane called Eden.
“We found one name you should know.”
“What?”
“Meridian Steakhouse.”
Eden frowned.
“What about it?”
“Owner.”
She thought restaurant owned by hospitality group.
Kane said:
“Shell company traces to Saint Agnes.”
“What?”
Her mother’s fund owned restaurant?
“Yes.”
Since 2016.
Eden stared.
“Why?”
Sofia answered later.
“Margaret bought it because North Meridian used back rooms for meetings.”
“So Mom owned where I worked?”
“Yes.”
“She never told me.”
“No.”
“She let me serve tables in her property.”
Sofia smiled faintly.
“She said you refused charity.”
Eden laughed.
That was true.
“She wanted you employed somewhere she could watch.”
“Protection again.”
“Yes.”
“God.”
Then a second fact.
Booth 42 had hidden camera.
Eden stopped.
“The ambush was recorded.”
“Yes.”
Kane recovered.
Proof Gallo left before shooter moved.
Proof Eden warned Nico.
Proof Bellini’s men.
Good.
But also something else.
Footage from months earlier.
Bellini meeting unknown man.
Nico’s father?
No dead.
Arthur?
Please not.
Kane showed image.
Marco.
Nico’s driver.
Eden went cold.
“Nico.”
He stared at screen.
Marco meeting Bellini six months before shooting.
No audio.
Nico said:
“Context.”
Good.
He had learned.
They called Marco.
He came voluntarily.
Looked at photo.
“Yes.”
“What meeting?”
“Bellini asked me to spy on you.”
Nico’s face hardened.
“And?”
“I agreed.”
Eden stared.
Nico said quietly:
“Why?”
“To spy on him.”
Of course.
“Who knew?”
“Sofia.”
Nico closed eyes.
“Mother.”
Marco continued:
“She contacted me two years ago.”
“You knew she was alive.”
“Yes.”
Another betrayal.
Nico looked away.
Marco said:
“I am sorry.”
“Did you know hit?”
“No.”
“Did you know Bellini suspected Eden?”
“No.”
“Did you report meetings?”
“To Kane.”
Agent Kane nodded.
True.
Nico breathed.
“Fine.”
Not forgiveness.
Fact.
Marco added:
“There was one thing I did not report.”
Kane frowned.
“What?”
“Bellini asked about Nico’s father’s second family.”
Silence.
Nico stared.
“What second family?”
Marco looked at Eden.
“No.”
Eden sighed.
“Please do not make us related after three dates.”
Everyone froze.
Then Marco actually laughed.
“No.”
Good.
He continued:
“Luca had daughter.”
Nico stopped.
“With?”
“Woman in Detroit.”
“Age?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“Name?”
“Camilla Rossi.”
Nico’s half-sister.
Unknown.
Why now?
“Bellini wanted to recruit her as heir if Nico left.”
Of course.
Kane said:
“Where is she?”
Marco looked troubled.
“Missing.”
Since two days after Nico dissolved syndicate.
Nico closed eyes.
Eden said:
“We find her.”
He looked at her.
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
“Because apparently your family keeps losing women.”
Nico almost smiled.
Then phone rang.
Unknown.
A woman’s voice:
“Nico Ferraro?”
“Yes.”
“This is Camilla.”
His face changed.
“I’m in Milwaukee.”
“Are you safe?”
“No.”
“Who has you?”
“No one.”
Then whisper:
“I’m hiding from the men who say you abandoned the family.”
Nico looked at Eden.
Camilla continued:
“And they keep calling me boss.”
The old empire had found a new unwilling heir.
After meeting Owen, Eden went back inside the café.
Nico was still at table.
He had not ordered second coffee.
“Bad?” he asked.
“Complicated.”
“Want details?”
She looked at him.
“Eventually.”
He nodded.
No push.
Eden sat.
“My father watched me from distance.”
Nico’s expression tightened.
“Of course.”
“Do all parents in our world buy binoculars instead of therapy?”
“Probably.”
She laughed.
Then:
“He said he left because Mom asked.”
Nico looked at his hands.
“What?”
“That sentence bothers me.”
“Why?”
“Because if someone you love asks you to disappear, saying yes can still be cowardice.”
Eden studied him.
“You’re thinking about Sofia.”
“Yes.”
“And your father?”
“Yes.”
“And yourself?”
He looked up.
“Mostly.”
She reached for coffee.
“Maybe obedience is not always loyalty.”
Nico nodded.
“Maybe protection is not always love.”
“Look at us.”
“Terrible philosophers.”
“Excellent customers.”
He smiled.
Then Eden said:
“I gave Owen an email.”
“Okay.”
“You think that was stupid?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you chose it.”
Simple.
That was becoming the thing she trusted most about him.
Before leaving the café, Eden asked Nico one last question.
“If I decide I never want a relationship with Owen, will you think I’m cruel?”
Nico answered immediately.
“No.”
“If I change my mind later?”
“No.”
“If I let him in and then regret it?”
“Still no.”
She studied him.
“You really mean that.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because boundaries are not vows. You can change them.”
Eden smiled faintly.
“Who taught you that?”
“You.”
“That sounds suspiciously flattering.”
“It is also true.”
They stepped outside together.
Owen was gone.
Good.
He had listened.
That mattered more than any apology he could have forced into one afternoon.
Eden tucked her hands into coat pockets.
For the first time, the possibility of knowing her father did not feel like a trap.
It felt like a door she could open later.
May you like
Or not.
And because nobody else held the handle, she could finally breathe.
