Selena's Pov
“Miss Russell, if the payment isn’t completed by Friday, we’ll have to stop your mother’s chemotherapy treatment.”
I stood frozen in the middle of the Restaurant while the nurse’s words echoed inside my head. Around me, rich people laughed over expensive wine and thousand dollar meals like the world was perfect.
Meanwhile, mine was falling apart.
“I understand,” I whispered into the phone even though I didn’t know what else to say.
“Your mother’s condition is becoming more serious. Please try to make the payment as soon as possible.”
The call ended before I could beg for more time.
I lowered the phone slowly and stared at the shiny marble floor beneath my feet. My chest hurt so badly it felt hard to breathe.
I only had three days left.
“Selena!”
I looked up immediately when my manager’s voice snapped through the restaurant.
Mr. Laurent glared at me from beside the wine counter. “Table nine has been waiting for ten minutes.”
“Sorry.”
I shoved my phone back into my apron and grabbed the tray beside me. My hands still trembled while I walked across the restaurant.
Bellissimo was one of the fanciest restaurants in New York. Politicians, celebrities, billionaires… They all came here.
And every single night I served people richer than I could ever dream of becoming while wondering if my mother was dying alone in a hospital bed.
“Your lobster, sir.”
The older man at the table barely looked at me while signing something on his phone. His wife complained about her diamonds while sipping champagne.
I wanted to scream.
Instead, I forced a smile and walked away.
“Rough day?” Sofia asked beside me while carrying drinks toward another table.
I let out a tired laugh. “When is it not?”
Sofia frowned the moment she saw my face. “Hospital again?”
I nodded.
“How much this time?”
“Too much.”
Her expression softened with pity, and honestly, I hated pity more than anything.
“I’ll figure it out,” I muttered.
“You can’t keep doing this alone, Sel.”
But I was alone.
That was the problem.
Ever since my father disappeared three years ago, it had only been me and my mother. He left us and just disappeared like we meant nothing.
My mother stopped talking about him after that. Every time I asked questions, she either cried or changed the subject. So eventually, I stopped asking too.
The restaurant doors suddenly opened, and the entire atmosphere changed. I noticed it instantly.
The workers stopped talking. Customers looked up. Even Mr. Laurent straightened nervously near the counter.
A group of men walked inside wearing black suits. They looked dangerous.Then another man entered behind them. The entire room seemed smaller the moment he walked in.
One of the waitresses beside me whispered, “Oh my God…”
His eyes moved across the room once before landing directly on me. Something inside me tightened.
“Selena,” Mr. Laurent said beside me. “You’re taking table twenty.”
I turned toward him. “Me?”
“Yes.” His voice sounded nervous. “And be careful.”
That only made me more uneasy. I picked up a menu and walked toward the private table near the back of the restaurant. The closer I got, the more nervous I became.
He leaned back in his chair while the other men remained standing nearby.
“Good evening Sir,” I said. “Can I take your order?”
His eyes lifted toward me.
“I’ll have whiskey,” he said.
His voice was deep and calm
“That’s all?”
“Yes.”
I nodded and turned away. But I could still feel his gaze following me across the restaurant.
When I returned with the drink, one of the men beside him stared at me before muttering under his breath
“She looks just like him.”
I froze. The man sitting at the table finally looked at me differently. My throat suddenly felt dry.
But before I could say anything else, Mr. Laurent suddenly rushed toward me.
“Selena, kitchen. Now.”
Confused, I stepped away from the table and followed him toward the hallway near the back.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
Mr. Laurent lowered his voice. “Those men… don’t ask questions.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just stay professional and avoid eye contact.”
When I returned to the dining floor again, I noticed something strange outside the restaurant windows.
A black car sat across the street. Its windows were dark enough to hide whoever sat inside. But I could feel it. Someone was watching me. The feeling stayed with me for the rest of my shift.
By the time I finally left Bellissimo, rain poured heavily across the streets. I wrapped my jacket tighter around myself while walking toward the bus stop.
My phone suddenly rang. The call was from an Unknown Number.
I frowned before answering. “Hello?”
I stopped walking immediately. “Who is this?”
The call disconnected and a chill crawled down my spine.
I looked across the street instantly. The same black car was still there.
My heartbeat quickened as I hurried toward the hospital instead of going home.
Saint Mary’s Hospital smelled like medicine and exhaustion. Nurses moved through the halls while machines beeped in nearby rooms.
I pushed open my mother’s room door and froze. She looked worse. My chest tightened painfully at the sight of her pale skin and weak smile.
“There’s my girl,” she whispered.
I sat beside her bed and forced myself not to cry. “You should be sleeping.”
“So should you.”
I laughed, but the sound broke halfway.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then my mother reached for my hand.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” she said softly.
I frowned. “What is it?”
Her eyes filled with something I had never seen before. Fear.
“It’s about your father.”
My heartbeat stopped.
“What about him?”
Her fingers tightened around mine.
“I should’ve told you years ago.”
“Told me what?”
She opened her mouth to answer
Then suddenly started coughing.
“Mom!”
Doctors rushed into the room while nurses pushed me toward the hallway. My heart slammed painfully against my chest while chaos filled the room behind me.