C11 A DANGEROUS GAME BEGINS.

Maggie quickly fixed her outfit and hair, glanced in the mirror, and checked her looks for the last time. She had to make sure that she looked perfect. No one should suspect anything.

Her heart still beat with the lingering thrill, but she forced herself into a calm expression as she quietly slipped out of the office, casting a final, playful look back at Fred.

“I’ll be right back,” she whispered, her gaze suggestive, a silent reminder of the taste they’d just shared.

Fred hurriedly buttoned his shirt and ran a hand through his hair, breathing deeply to steady himself.

He adjusted his collar and settled into his chair, but the persistent knocking made his heart hammer even harder.

Who could be at his door, pounding with such urgency? Fred thought to himself.

Maggie’s heels clicked against the polished floor as she moved toward the entrance.

She thrust the door open, only to have her expression hang.

"Oh...it’s just you,” she said, clearly annoyed.

The cleaner stood there, looking a little confused.

The cleaner, a middle-aged woman with weary eyes and a mop bucket by her side, gave a polite nod.

“Just here for my usual rounds, ma’am,” she said, though she noticed Maggie’s frosty expression.

Maggie’s irritation bubbled over; she had interrupted at the worst possible time. She clenched her jaw and forced a tight smile.

“Fine. “Inform me when you’ve finished,” she said, indicating the office corridor with her hand.

Losing no time to listen to any further talks, she quickly pivoted and made her way to Fred’s office.

The door creaked once more, and this time Fred looked up, shocked.

His tension softened when he saw it was just Maggie.

“It was the cleaner,” she said, crossing the room to sink into the chair opposite him. She leaned back with a sigh. “She’s here on her usual rounds, but I don’t know why she’s early. Almost feels like she has some sense of timing.” She shook her head, annoyed at the interruption.

Fred relaxed, a visible sigh of relief escaped him.

“Thank God it was only her,” he murmured, sinking back in his chair.

Maggie smirked slightly, crossing one leg over the other.

“Before I forget, Jack mentioned that the woman who saved him from that mob works at the cafe in Inwood.” She paused, noticing Fred’s face darken slightly as she continued. “He said her name was Laura.”

Fred’s entire conduct shifted, tension creeping back into his eyes as he stared at her, trying to keep his reaction controlled.

“Laura?” he repeated his voice barely above a whisper. His pulse quickened. Could it be her? The thought sent a thrill and a wave of panic through him.

Laura was the last person he wanted to connect him to his son; it would complicate everything and risk his plans to pursue her without any obstacles.

“Yes… Laura. Is something wrong?” Maggie asked, her eyebrows knitting together in concern. She had picked up on his unease and searched his face, looking for answers.

“No… no, not at all,” Fred replied, forcing an easy smile onto his face. “I’m just… grateful she was there for Jack.” He swallowed, determined to steer the conversation away from this dangerous topic. “I need to step out now, something urgent has come up.” He grabbed his keys, nearly stumbling in his haste. “Make sure the doors are locked when she’s finished cleaning.”

Maggie watched him closely, suspicion flickering in her eyes as she noticed the way he avoided meeting her gaze.

She rose from her seat and walked over to the office window, watching him as he quickly made his way across the parking lot, his stride tense.

From the partly closed curtains, she partially watched him enter his car and drive away.

Her mind spun with questions.

What had set him off so suddenly? Although she had no idea who this Laura was, she could tell that the name had disturbed Fred in a manner she had never witnessed.

***

Fred gripped the steering wheel as he sped toward the cafe, his mind racing with thoughts. He felt a swell of gratitude for Laura, who had stepped in to protect his son. Yet, another emotion simmered beneath the surface, unease.

He needed to know if Jack had mentioned anything to Laura about his true identity, any hint of Fred’s connection as his father. He couldn’t afford for anyone, especially Laura, to learn the truth.

Arriving at the cafe, Fred stepped inside, scanning the room. A handful of customers lingered over their drinks, but Laura was nowhere in sight. Neither was Jerry.

His gaze fell on the door to the changing room, which stood slightly ajar. Curiosity gnawing at him, Fred moved quietly toward it, just in time to catch a few hushed words from the other side.

“I lost my cleaning job,” Laura’s voice trembled as she spoke, her tone thick with emotion. “My co-workers… they framed me, made my boss believe I’d stolen from the company.” She let out a shaky breath. “And now… my mom. She’s been diagnosed with leukemia. I had to put up our home as collateral just to get her treatment started. "I have a debt of $1,000 and I have no idea what to do first."

Fred's heart sank when he heard the last words, surprised by this brief insight into Laura's tribulations. He felt a faint tug of conscience, which was something new to him, yet he discarded the feeling and advanced to listen more intently.

“Laura… I’m so sorry,” Jerry murmured. “I had no idea.” His voice was warm and sincere as he reached out to comfort her.

Fred’s jaw tightened. So Jerry was the shoulder Laura leaned on. A flicker of resentment flared, but he stayed rooted in place, hanging on to every detail.

“I just want to be able to raise enough money,” Laura choked out. “I need to take care of my family… I have to.” Her words dissolved into quiet sobs.

Fred’s heart pounded as he listened, a plan starting to take shape in his mind. Just then, a voice called out from across the cafe.

“Fred! Fred! Is that you?” The voice was bright, too loud, breaking the intimate bubble that surrounded the conversation.

Laura and Jerry fell silent, their heads snapping up in alarm. Fred quickly retreated as they emerged from the room and spotted him by the door.

“Oh, hey there,” he stammered as he attempted a casual smile and hurried towards the woman who had interrupted.

She was a familiar figure from years gone by whose face lit up as she made her way to him.

“What brings you here?” She queried, completely unaware of the frigid atmosphere.

Fred managed a smile but kept his other eye on Laura who looked at him with undisguised annoyance and suspicion.

“Just here to grab a coffee,” he replied quickly. “But I need to run, I have something urgent to take care of. Let’s catch up later?”.

“Of course,” she replied, a touch of disappointment in her smile. “See you around, Fred.” She turned and left, and he wasted no time making his way back to the counter, where Laura and Jerry were standing together.

“Laura… Can we talk for a moment?” Fred asked, his tone soft, his usual arrogance softened by an unusual solemness.

Laura’s eyes narrowed, her distrust clear.

“What is it, Fred?” She replied coldly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She cast a quick, irritated glance at Jerry as if silently blaming him for urging her to listen.

“Please, just a minute,” Fred said, glancing at Jerry, who gave her a slight nod of encouragement.

With a sigh, Laura finally relented, following him to a small table in the corner of the cafe.

Fred inhaled deep and took his time to respond.

“To commence, I wish to express my heartfelt appreciation to you. To assist the child. It… it means a lot.” He said it confidently but there was this slight waver when he delivered the final words.

Laura raised one eyebrow.

“Why are you so concerned about that child?” She asked, clearly suspicious.

Fred hesitated for a split second.

“He’s the son of a friend. They’re… important to me.”

“Well, that explains why you showed up out of nowhere and took him away,” Laura said as if piecing it together.

Fred forced a smile.

“Yes. I just wanted to make sure he was safe.” He glanced away, trying to gather himself. “Anyway, thank you again. You did something very kind.”

Laura, clearly uncomfortable, stood up and nodded.

“You’re welcome. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do”, she added.

Without a second glance, she returned to the counter, where Jerry stood watching Fred with a wary eye.

Fred exhaled, a sense of satisfaction filling him. She had no idea. His secret was safe, and he still had a chance to pursue her on his terms.

He turned to leave and casted one last look at her and Jerry at the counter, a predatory glint in his eye. He hurriedly stormed out and headed for his car.

Back in his car, Fred’s mind raced. He couldn’t forget the way Laura’s voice had trembled as she spoke about her struggles.

The $1,000 debt, her ailing mother, it was almost too easy. He had what she craved the most and by that fact alone, she would be his without doubt.

Without hesitation, he checked the glove box and retrieved a folded sheet of paper from within.

Looking around to check for anyone looking at him, he revealed the contents one by one, making merry in each detail written within with a devious smile on his face.

“Laura Wells, Craft Street… [email protected]… +1 212 456 7090.” He murmured her information aloud, relishing every word. His eyes gleamed with dark satisfaction.

Fred had swiped Laura’s resume the same evening after Jerry had taken her purse home for safekeeping. He had kept it hidden ever since, waiting for the perfect moment. And now, that moment has arrived.

“Now is the time,” he whispered, his voice quiet and deep. He folded the paper neatly, and returned it back to the glove box, his head filled with ideas. “Laura Wells… you’ll be mine. Just like the others.”

With a final, self-satisfied grin, Fred started the engine and drove off, a quiet, sinister laugh slipping past his lips as the cafe disappeared in his rearview mirror.