Chapter 1 - THE THREE ROLLS-ROYCES
The street seemed to go completely quiet when the first Rolls-Royce appeared.
It wasn't just the sleek, flawless silhouette of the luxury vehicle that commanded attention; it was the way it seemed to bend the very atmosphere of the bustling downtown avenue around it. A second identical car glided up right behind it. Then a third.
Three gleaming, obsidian-painted masterpieces of modern engineering slowly rolled toward an aging, grease-stained food cart parked on a corner where most regular customers carefully counted their coins before choosing the cheapest item on the menu. Heavy engines hummed with a quiet, suppressed power beneath polished hoods. Pedestrians on the sidewalk stopped dead in their tracks, turning their heads in unison, while nearby conversations dissolved into a stunned, breathless silence.
Behind the cart, Shiomara Reyes stood completely frozen.
The heavy metal ladle in her hand stayed suspended mid-air above a large, bubbling pot of steaming spiced rice and beans. Her eyes blinked behind her fogged-up glasses as she watched the unbelievable scene unfold.
For over a decade, this battered, rust-streaked cart had been her entire world. Every morning at four o'clock, long before the sun dared to peek over the concrete skyline, she prepared her ingredients, fired up the propane stove, and pushed herself through another grueling fourteen-hour shift. Deep scratches marked the metal body, its wheels emitted a high-pitched squeal with every sharp turn, and its faded yellow canopy had been patched with duct tape more times than she could count.
Yet, it belonged to her. It was honest work, and it had kept her alive through the darkest winters of her life.
Never once had she imagined three multi-million-dollar vehicles stopping right in front of her modest workspace.
May you like
The thick, savory steam brushed against her face, but Shiomara hardly noticed anymore. The doors of the luxury cars began to swing open in unison, like a precision military operation. Several curious bystanders nearby quickly whipped out their cell phones, whispering excitedly to one another. Some guessed that a visiting foreign diplomat had arrived; others speculated that wealthy real estate moguls were scouting the neighborhood for demolition and redevelopment.
But as Shiomara watched the passengers emerge, a much colder, sharper sensation crawled through the pit of her stomach: pure, unadulterated fear.
