Chapter 1: A Day in the Life (Part 1)

The rich aroma of sizzling spices filled the air as I stepped into my family's small yet bustling restaurant. The warmth of the place settled over me like a familiar embrace. This eatery, nestled in a lively district of the city, had been our pride and livelihood for as long as I could remember. My parents worked tirelessly, their hands moving with practiced ease as they prepared dishes that had earned us a loyal customer base.

"Ethan! You're late again!" my mother called out, wiping her hands on her apron as she threw me a knowing look. "Your father's been complaining about the lunch rush without your help."

I ran a hand through my slightly disheveled hair, offering her a sheepish grin. "Sorry, Mom. My economics professor kept us late today. I came straight here."

From behind the counter, my father glanced up with a frown. "You're a college student, not a full-time worker. Your studies should come first."

"I like helping out," I said, leaning against the counter. "Besides, learning how a business actually runs is the best economics lesson I could ask for."

My mother sighed, shaking her head. "Just don't overwork yourself. And where's Emily? Isn't she coming today?"

As if on cue, the bell above the entrance jingled, and Emily stepped inside. The moment she entered, the atmosphere seemed to brighten. With her wavy brown hair cascading over her shoulders and warm hazel eyes that always held a spark of mischief, she carried herself with an effortless grace that turned heads. She was also in her second year of college, studying arts, but she often came by whenever she had time to help out.

"I'm here! Sorry, my class ran late too," she said, setting her bag down behind the counter. "Hey, Ethan. Ready to take some orders?"

I smiled at her. "Always."

The evening passed in a blur of laughter, clinking dishes, and the hum of conversation. The restaurant was alive, filled with regulars and curious newcomers drawn in by the scent of home-cooked meals. Emily and I moved seamlessly between tables, taking orders and serving dishes while exchanging jokes with customers. It felt right—like this was exactly where I was supposed to be.

As the dinner rush died down, Emily and I finally had a chance to breathe. She reached for a small plate of dumplings, popping one into her mouth before offering me one.

"Hey, Ethan," she said thoughtfully. "Do you ever think about the future?"

I raised an eyebrow. "What about it?"

She hesitated, glancing down at the dumpling in her hand. "Like… where we'll be after college. Will we still be here, helping out at the restaurant? Or… will we end up somewhere else, chasing different dreams?"

I glanced around—the worn wooden tables, the shelves stacked with spices and sauces, the old framed photograph of my parents when they first opened the place. "I don't know," I admitted. "But I do know I want this place to succeed. It's not just a business—it's our home."

Emily studied my face for a moment before nodding with a small smile. "Yeah… I get that."

I reached over, ruffling her hair playfully. She swatted my hand away with a pout. "Don't overthink it, Emily. We have plenty of time to figure things out."

She laughed, the sound light and carefree. "Yeah, yeah. But if you ever take me somewhere fancy in the future, I won't complain."

That moment felt simple, peaceful. I had no idea then just how fragile that happiness truly was.

As I turned to glance outside, my gaze landed on a sleek black car pulling up across the street. The tinted windows made it impossible to see inside, but something about it sent an uneasy chill through me. A strange sense of foreboding settled in my chest, but I shook it off.

Moments later, the door swung open, and a group of well-dressed young men strode inside, their expensive shoes clicking against the tiled floor. Leading them was a tall man with neatly styled blond hair, his confident smirk exuding arrogance. His name was Lucas Sterling, son of the infamous billionaire Henry Sterling, CEO of Sterling Enterprises—the largest restaurant chain in the country. I had seen his face before, plastered across business magazines, always accompanied by headlines about his family's growing empire.

Lucas took a leisurely look around before stepping toward the counter. "I'll have whatever your best dish is," he said, his voice smooth but laced with condescension.

My father, ever the professional, nodded and got to work. As the meal was served, Lucas and his friends ate slowly, making exaggerated noises of enjoyment. When he finally finished, he dabbed his mouth with a napkin and leaned forward with an insincere smile.

"Not bad," he mused. "I can see why this little hole-in-the-wall has its fans."

There was something unnerving about his tone. He tapped his fingers on the counter before continuing, "I'll get straight to the point. My father is expanding Sterling Enterprises, and I want to buy this restaurant. Name your price."

The room went silent. My father stiffened, his hands tightening slightly. "This place isn't for sale."

Lucas chuckled, clearly amused. "Come on, now. Every business has a price. You could take the money and retire early, maybe start something new." His tone darkened slightly. "Or you could stay and watch as we open a flagship restaurant right down the street. Wouldn't want to see this place lose all its customers, would you?"

My father's voice was firm. "I built this place from nothing. It's not just about money."

Lucas's smirk didn't waver, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes. He adjusted his cufflinks before rising to his feet. "Suit yourself. But let's see how long you can keep this place running. Competition can be... ruthless."

With a snap of his fingers, he and his friends turned and strode out of the restaurant, leaving behind a heavy silence. I exchanged a tense glance with Emily, unease settling deep in my gut.

Something told me this wasn't the last we'd see of Lucas Sterling.

After all, what could possibly go wrong?

The evening rush had died down, leaving only the soft murmur of lingering customers and the distant hum of passing cars outside. I leaned against the counter, rolling my sore shoulders as the weight of the day settled in. The restaurant, though quieter now, still carried the warmth of home—a place built with my parents' hard work and filled with years of memories.

Emily wiped down the last of the tables before plopping onto the stool next to me, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "If I have to deal with one more picky customer asking for 'extra-extra-extra' sauce, I'm gonna lose it."

I smirked. "You could always drown them in the sauce instead."

She laughed, nudging my arm. "Tempting."

My mother poked her head out from the kitchen, her face lined with exhaustion but softened by a fond smile. "Go on, you two. We'll handle closing."

"You sure?" I asked, straightening up.

My father waved a hand dismissively. "Go. You both worked hard today."

Emily stretched dramatically. "Well, if the boss says so…"

We grabbed our things and stepped out into the cool night air. The city lights shimmered above, casting long shadows across the pavement. I shoved my hands into my pockets as we walked, the comfortable silence between us interrupted only by the distant honk of a car horn.

"So," Emily began, kicking a stray pebble, "about earlier… with Lucas Sterling."

I tensed slightly. "Yeah?"

She glanced at me, her expression serious. "You think he meant what he said? About putting your family out of business?"

I let out a slow breath. "Guys like him don't just talk. They act."

She frowned. "That doesn't scare you?"

"It pisses me off more than anything," I admitted. "He walked in here like he already owned the place. Like we were just another stepping stone for his family's empire."

Emily sighed. "I don't like this, Ethan. Rich people like him? They don't play fair."

I knew she was right, but what could I do? This restaurant was my parents' lifeblood, and I'd be damned if I let someone like Lucas Sterling take it away.

As we reached the subway station, Emily hesitated. "You sure you'll be okay?"

I gave her a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine. Get home safe."

She nodded, stepping onto the platform just as the train pulled in. As the doors closed behind her, I turned and started down the street toward my apartment.

The night was still, almost too still.

That's when I saw it.

The same sleek black car from earlier.

It was parked across the street, engine running, its tinted windows concealing whoever was inside. A shiver crawled down my spine.

I quickened my pace, every instinct screaming that I was being watched. My apartment was only a few blocks away. Just a little further—

A soft click echoed through the air.

I barely had time to react before heavy footsteps approached from behind. A hand clamped down on my shoulder, and before I could turn, a sharp pain exploded in my side.

I gasped, stumbling forward as the world tilted. My vision blurred, but I caught a glimpse of a man—dark suit, cold eyes—before darkness swallowed me whole.