Chapter 4

The black sedan remained three car lengths behind.

Meera tightened her grip on the grocery bag hanging from her arm.

"Grandma..."

"I see it," Rosa answered calmly, though the concern in her voice betrayed her.

They turned left.

So did the sedan.

They crossed another street.

The sedan followed.

Meera stopped walking.

"So it's not my imagination."

The vehicle slowed to a stop about twenty meters away.

Its headlights remained on, making it impossible to see who was inside.

For a long moment, neither side moved.

Then the sedan accelerated, driving past them without rolling down a window or making a sound.

Meera watched until its taillights disappeared around the corner.

"That was strange."

Rosa placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Come. Let's get home."

---

Across town, Grant stood before a wall-sized digital map in the rented house.

Several red markers glowed across San Diego's harbor district.

Damien's voice came through the encrypted video call.

"We've confirmed Romano men arrived this morning."

"Numbers?"

"At least twelve."

Grant folded his arms.

"They're planning something."

"We think so."

"And the sedan?"

Damien switched to another camera feed.

A grainy image appeared on the screen.

The same black sedan.

Its license plate had been partially obscured with mud.

"No registered owner," Damien said. "Whoever was driving knew what they were doing."

Grant's eyes lingered on the image.

"Keep watching."

"You think they're after the girl?"

"I don't deal in coincidences."

Damien hesitated.

"Should we place protection around her?"

Grant didn't answer immediately.

He barely knew Meera Andrews.

She was just a street vendor.

Yet something about the timing felt wrong.

"The Romanos don't make random moves," Grant said quietly. "Find out what they want before we act."

---

The following morning, Meera arrived at the taco stand before sunrise.

She unlocked the storage cabinet and froze.

The cash box lay open.

Empty.

Her heart dropped.

"No..."

She searched every shelf.

Every drawer.

Nothing.

The previous day's earnings were gone.

Rosa hurried over after hearing the panic in her voice.

"What happened?"

"The money..."

Meera held up the empty box.

"It's gone."

Rosa looked around the stand.

There were no signs of forced entry.

Whoever had taken the money had known exactly where to look.

Meera leaned against the counter, closing her eyes.

"That money was for rent."

Rosa wrapped an arm around her.

"We'll find a way."

"We always say that."

"And we always do."

Before Meera could reply, a familiar black SUV pulled up across the street.

She groaned.

"Him again?"

Grant stepped out, this time carrying nothing but his phone.

He immediately noticed the expression on her face.

"What happened?"

"None of your business."

Grant looked past her to the open cash box.

His expression hardened.

"Someone robbed us," Rosa explained gently.

"When?"

"Last night."

Grant's gaze swept across the street, instinctively studying every parked vehicle, every rooftop, every alley.

Years of surviving in the shadows had taught him to notice details others ignored.

Someone was watching.

He could feel it.

Meera caught him looking around.

"What are you doing?"

"Thinking."

"About what?"

Grant met her eyes.

"I don't think the money is what they were after."

She frowned.

"What does that even mean?"

Before he could answer, his phone vibrated.

Damien.

Grant answered without taking his eyes off the street.

"Talk."

"Boss... we've identified the sedan."

Grant's voice remained steady.

"And?"

"It belongs to a shell company."

"Owned by?"

There was a pause.

"The Romano family."

Grant's jaw tightened.

"What are they doing?"

"We're still trying to figure that out."

Grant ended the call.

For the first time in years, a business trip had become personal.

He looked at Meera, who was still waiting for an explanation.

She had no idea that her quiet life had begun to overlap with a war she couldn't yet see.

And Grant knew one thing with absolute certainty—

If the Romanos had taken an interest in Meera Andrews...

She was already in danger.

Grant slipped his phone back into his pocket.

His expression gave nothing away.

If Meera hadn't already decided he was impossible to read, she would have thought he hadn't heard anything important at all.

"You keep doing that," she said.

"Doing what?"

"Looking around like you're expecting someone to jump out of the bushes."

Grant's eyes met hers.

"Old habit."

"You were in the military?"

"No."

"Private security?"

"No."

She folded her arms.

"Then what?"

Grant allowed himself the smallest smile.

"I ask too many questions?"

"You answer too few."

For a brief moment, neither of them spoke.

Grandma Rosa broke the silence.

"Would either of you like some breakfast before you continue arguing?"

Meera sighed.

"I'm not arguing."

Grant raised an eyebrow.

"No?"

"I'm educating you."

"I see."

"You have terrible manners."

"I've been told."

Grandma Rosa chuckled as she handed Grant a freshly made taco.

"First one's free."

Grant looked at it, then at her.

"I came to pay."

"And I decided to feed you."

For reasons he couldn't explain, Grant accepted it.

He took one bite.

The flavors hit him instantly.

Fresh.

Perfectly seasoned.

Balanced.

He hadn't eaten street food in years.

"This is..." He paused, searching for a word.

Meera smirked.

"Go on."

"...good."

She gasped dramatically.

"'Good?'"

"Very good."

"'Very good?'"

"What do you want me to say?"

"The best taco you've ever had."

Grant looked at her.

"It is."

The teasing smile on Meera's face faltered.

She hadn't expected him to admit it.

"You don't have to flatter me."

"I don't flatter people."

"I noticed."

Grandma Rosa hid a smile as she returned to cleaning the grill.

Maybe these two weren't as different as they believed.

---

A black sedan remained parked at the end of the street.

Its windows were heavily tinted.

Inside, two men watched the taco stand through a camera lens.

"The boss wants confirmation," one of them said.

"The girl?"

The other man nodded.

"And the man she's talking to."

The first man zoomed in on Grant.

He frowned.

"Strange."

"What?"

"He looks familiar."

Before he could think any further, Grant's head turned.

Directly toward the sedan.

Their eyes couldn't possibly meet through the dark glass...

Yet both men instinctively shrank lower in their seats.

"It feels like he can see us."

"Drive."

The engine started.

The sedan pulled away without attracting attention.

Except...

Grant had noticed.

---

"What is it?" Meera asked.

"Nothing."

"You've been staring down the road for the last thirty seconds."

Grant returned his attention to her.

"Do you lock the stand every night?"

"Of course."

"Has anyone else ever stolen from you?"

"No."

"Any problems with customers?"

She shook her head.

"People around here are good people."

Grant nodded slowly.

"So whoever took the money wasn't looking for cash."

Meera frowned.

"You keep saying that."

"Because it's true."

"What else could they want?"

Grant didn't answer.

Not because he didn't know.

Because he wasn't ready to involve her.

Not until he understood why the Romano family was interested.

His phone buzzed again.

A text from Damien.

Meeting moved to 1:00 p.m. Urgent. Security compromised.

Grant exhaled slowly.

He had no choice.

Business came first.

It always had.

"I have to go."

Meera shrugged.

"Okay."

"I'll come back later."

She laughed.

"You say that like we're friends."

"We're not?"

Her eyes widened slightly.

"We're definitely not."

Grant nodded once.

"Not yet."

Before Meera could think of a reply, he crossed the street and climbed into his SUV.

She watched him drive away.

There was something strange about him.

He apologized when he didn't have to.

He spoke like every word had been carefully measured.

And whenever his phone rang...

The warmth disappeared from his face.

It was as if two different men lived behind the same pair of eyes.

Grandma Rosa walked beside her.

"You've been watching him."

"I have not."

"You watched until his car disappeared."

"I was making sure he didn't splash another food stand."

Rosa laughed.

"If you say so."

Meera rolled her eyes, but a reluctant smile escaped her.

She didn't know Grant Gonas's name.

She didn't know he commanded an empire built on blood and fear.

And Grant didn't know that before the week was over, protecting Meera would force him to choose between the ruthless code that had made him the Frozen Beast... and the one woman capable of breaking it.