Chapter 6

The Romano estate sat on a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean.

Luxury.

Power.

Blood.

Victor Romano stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows with a crystal glass of whiskey in one hand.

A knock echoed through his office.

"Come in."

A man in a charcoal suit stepped inside and placed a thick file on the mahogany desk.

"You asked for everything on Meera Andrews."

Victor picked up the folder.

The first page held a photograph.

Meera.

Smiling.

Laughing.

Completely unaware she had become the subject of a mafia investigation.

Victor flipped through the pages.

Name: Meera Andrews.

Age: Twenty-four.

Occupation: Street food vendor.

Known relatives: Rosa Martinez (adoptive grandmother).

Biological parents: Unknown.

He paused.

"Unknown?"

"Yes, Boss."

"No birth records?"

"We searched hospitals, adoption agencies... nothing."

Victor's eyes narrowed.

"A ghost."

"Looks that way."

He closed the file.

"Keep watching her."

"Do you think she's connected to Gonas?"

Victor smiled.

"I don't believe in coincidences."

---

Grant returned to his rented house just after nine that evening.

Damien was already waiting.

"You look tired," Damien remarked.

"I've had busier days."

Grant removed his jacket and poured himself a glass of water.

"The Romanos?"

"They're still watching her."

Grant didn't respond.

Damien studied him carefully.

"You've become unusually interested in this girl."

Grant took a slow sip.

"I caused her problems."

"So you feel responsible."

"I correct my mistakes."

Damien smirked.

"You've never corrected a mistake this personally."

Grant's gaze turned icy.

"Watch your words."

The room fell silent.

After a moment, Damien sighed.

"I'm only saying what everyone else is thinking."

Grant set the glass down.

"Everyone else should think less."

---

The next morning...

Meera unlocked the taco stand earlier than usual.

She wanted to make up for the money they'd lost.

As she arranged fresh vegetables across the counter, a black luxury sedan stopped nearby.

A woman stepped out.

Elegant.

Well-dressed.

Confident.

She approached the stand with a warm smile.

"Are you Meera Andrews?"

"Yes."

"I'm Olivia."

She extended a hand.

"I work for GONAS."

Meera shook it cautiously.

"GONAS?"

"Our company is hosting a charity food festival next weekend."

Meera blinked.

"And?"

"We've been looking for local food vendors."

"You want... me?"

Olivia nodded.

"Someone recommended your tacos."

Meera couldn't hide her excitement.

"Really?"

"You'd be serving hundreds of guests."

Grandma Rosa's eyes widened.

"Hundreds?"

Olivia smiled.

"If you're interested."

Meera looked at Rosa.

Rosa nodded immediately.

"This is your chance."

Meera turned back to Olivia.

"I'd love to."

Olivia handed her a gold-embossed invitation.

"We'll send you the details."

After Olivia left, Meera stared at the invitation.

"GONAS..."

The name sounded familiar.

She frowned.

"Where have I heard that before?"

---

Inside the GONAS headquarters in Los Angeles...

Grant reviewed documents without looking up.

His secretary entered.

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"The invitations have been delivered."

Grant signed another page.

"Good."

She hesitated.

"I thought you should know..."

"What?"

"The taco vendor accepted."

His pen stopped moving.

For the first time that morning...

Grant looked up.

"She did?"

"Yes, sir."

A faint smile touched his lips before disappearing almost instantly.

"Excellent."

His secretary blinked in surprise.

She had worked for Grant for four years.

She had never seen him react to the attendance of a food vendor.

Not once.

---

That evening, Meera sat on the porch with Rosa.

She traced the golden letters on the invitation.

"Do you think I belong at an event like this?"

Rosa smiled gently.

"You belong wherever your hard work takes you."

"What if I embarrass myself?"

"You won't."

"What if rich people don't like street food?"

"They'll love your street food."

Meera laughed softly.

"I wish I had your confidence."

Rosa squeezed her hand.

"I have confidence in you."

Meera rested her head on her grandmother's shoulder.

For the first time in weeks...

She allowed herself to dream.

Maybe this festival would change everything.

Maybe it would bring enough customers to save their little business.

She had no idea that the event was hosted by the very company owned by the man she'd been arguing with all week.

Nor did she know that powerful eyes were already watching her every move.

Some with curiosity.

Others with deadly intentions.

And before the festival was over...

One decision would pull Meera Andrews into the dangerous world of Grant Gonas—where loyalty was bought with blood, betrayal was punished without mercy, and falling in love with the Frozen Beast could cost her everything.