Chapter 4 - THE BEACON HILL INVITATION
Three days passed in a blur of contractor repairs, insurance phone calls, and adjusting to living with a canine tank.
Surprisingly, Titan was the easiest part of the adjustment. Once his scraped shoulder was treated with antibiotic ointment and he realized nobody in my shop was going to shout tactical commands at him, he transformed from a coiled spring of lethal aggression into a giant, affectionate shadow. He followed me from the cash register to the storage shelves, slept stretched across my bedroom doorway at night like an ancient stone gargoyle, and ate enough high-grade salmon kibble to bankrupt a small nation.
Then came Thursday afternoon.
A sleek black town car pulled up directly in front of Second Chance Pet Supply—the exact same spot where Roman’s guards had parked during the shootout. The rear door opened, and a tall, impeccably dressed man in a silver-grey suit stepped out, holding a small leather-bound portfolio.
He walked into the shop with the measured, quiet confidence of a high-powered corporate attorney.
"Miss Maya Harper?" he asked politely as the chime jingled overhead.
"Depends who's asking," I replied, wiping my hands on a cloth towel behind the counter. Titan lifted his massive head from where he was napping by the register, his amber eyes locking onto the visitor with instant suspicion.
"My name is Julian Vance. I am general counsel for Calder Enterprises," the man said, offering a crisp, professional smile. He reached into his portfolio and placed a thick manila folder on the counter. "Mr. Calder asked me to deliver this to you personally, along with a formal invitation."
I stared at the folder. "An invitation to what? More corporate shootouts?"
Julian chuckled softly, though his eyes remained sharp. "Not quite, Miss Harper. Mr. Calder wishes to express his gratitude for your discretion and your bravery during Tuesday's incident. He has requested your presence at his residence in Beacon Hill this evening for dinner."
I let out a dry laugh. "Tell Mr. Calder I appreciate the gesture, but I'm busy running a business. I don't run in billionaire circles, and frankly, I prefer my evenings free of men with submachine guns."
Julian didn't look surprised by my refusal. He simply slid the folder an inch closer. "Before you say no, I suggest you open the folder."
Frowning, I flipped open the brass clasp and pulled out the contents.
My breath caught in my throat.
It wasn't a subpoena or a threat. It was a comprehensive, fully paid commercial property deed transfer, handing over the entire building housing Second Chance Pet Supply—along with the two upper residential apartments—free and clear into my name. Attached to it was an open-ended supplier contract guaranteeing wholesale inventory costs for the next ten years.
"What is this?" I whispered, staring at the legal signatures.
"Mr. Calder is a man who pays his debts," Julian said smoothly. "The building was previously owned by a shell company connected to Kovalev’s syndicate. Mr. Calder acquired the title yesterday morning. It is yours, unconditionally."
I looked from the papers up to Julian, then down at Titan, who let out a soft huff as if telling me to just take the deal.
"He's trying to buy me off," I said, though my voice lacked conviction.
"He is trying to ensure you are safe, secure, and indebted to no one," Julian corrected gently. "And he sincerely hopes you will join him for dinner tonight at seven o'clock. A car will be waiting outside your shop at six-thirty."
With that, Julian turned, gave a polite nod, and walked out the door before I could argue another word.
I stood alone in the quiet shop with the deed to my entire livelihood sitting in my hands. Roman Calder wasn't just dangerous; he was calculating, manipulative, and terrifyingly thorough.
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And against every shred of common sense I possessed, curiosity won.
At six-thirty sharp, a black sedan was idling outside. I locked the front door, left Titan resting comfortably inside with a fresh bowl of water, and climbed into the back seat of the car, heading straight into the heart of Beacon Hill.
