Chapter 3 - The Scramble Through the Alley
The restaurant kitchen was a whirlwind of copper pans, roaring gas flames, and barking prep cooks. Maya kept her head bowed low as Victoria pulled her through the narrow passage between the dish pit and the walk-in cooler. A line cook shouted an angry protest, but one venomous glare from Victoria shut his mouth instantly. They burst through the heavy fire-exit doors into the biting chill of the rear alleyway. The rain came down in relentless sheets, drumming loudly against corrugated dumpster lids. Maya gasped as the cold air hit her lungs, but Victoria held her grip firm, practically lifting the seven-year-old off her feet to match her frantic stride.
Footsteps splashed behind them—heavy, deliberate leather soles striking puddles at an accelerating pace. Victoria glanced over her shoulder. The man in the trench coat was already through the metal exit, his face masked in deep shadow beneath the streetlight. ""Get in!"" Victoria yelled as her sleek black sedan came into view parked in the private service bay. She clicked her remote fob, the headlights flashing twice through the mist. Maya scrambled into the rear leather seat without hesitation, curling onto the floorboards between the passenger seats as if purely governed by ingrained survival instincts.
Victoria threw the car into reverse just as a heavy palm slammed violently against the driver’s window glass. The sudden thud resonated through the cabin like a gunshot. Through the rain-streaked window, Victoria caught a brief, chilling glimpse of the man’s face: scarred across the left cheek, with a faded circular tattoo etched onto his wrist. Victoria hit the gas pedal. The tires spun on wet cobblestones before gripping the asphalt, throwing the intruder backward onto the trash cans as the luxury vehicle vaulted out into the city traffic.
