Page 5 of Marco

I consider this new information, my mind racing through the possibilities. A better offer only means one thing—someone else has gotten to the owner first. Which implies they've caught wind of my plans. An unsettling thought, particularly when it seems like someone had inside information about one of our warehouses, too.

I think of the whispers I've been hearing, rumblings of a new faction angling for power. Is this their opening gambit? A warning shot across the bow? If so, they have no grasp of the beast they've just provoked. Or is it the stirring of old rivalries, no more than a seasonal jostling for position near the boundaries of our respective turf?

I meet Luca's anxious gaze. "Find out everything you can about this new buyer. I want a name by nightfall."

Luca nods. As he turns to leave, I add quietly, "And Luca...dig deep. We need to know exactly who we're dealing with."

The door closes, leaving me alone again in the shadows. A slow smile spreads across my face, devoid of warmth or humor. Let them come at me from the darkness, whoever they may be. They'll soon learn that I still reign supreme in this city. And my rivals always have a way of disappearing without a trace...

three

Alessia

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee surrounds me as I unlock the front door of the café and step inside. Morning light filters through the windows, washing the room in a warm glow. Ernesto has baked treats to last the day, and is off delivering breads and pastries to local restaurants. This is my favorite time of day, before the sign on the door is turned around to signal we're open, when it's just me and the tranquil quiet.

I go through my opening routine, brewing a fresh pot of dark roast, arranging the pastries in the glass case just so. As I water the potted plants by the window, I can already picture my regulars filtering in—Mrs. Chen with her crossword puzzle, Jamal on his way to class. Their faces are as familiar as family, their stories taking up places in my heart. Provide someone with exceptional hospitality, and you'd be surprised at what they're willing and eager to share with you.

The bells jingle merrily as I flip the sign to 'Open.' Right on cue, Mrs. Chen shuffles in, making a beeline for her usual table.

"Morning, Alessia dear," she says. "Can I get my usual?"

"Of course, Mrs. Chen." I pour her a cup of coffee just the way she likes it, with just a splash of cream.

As I deliver it to her table, she pats my hand affectionately. "You make the best coffee in town, sweetie."

I smile, warmth blooming in my chest. This is why I open the café every morning, for moments like this—the community that gathers here, the bonds between us. Though it's a simple living, there's joy to be found in the smallest of things.

I'm wiping down the front counter when Jamal comes bounding in, backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Morning, Miss Alessia!" he says brightly, leaning against the counter. His eyes light up as he surveys the variety of pastries in the display case, although I already know what he's going to order. "The usual breakfast sandwich and coffee to go, please."

I grin and gesture to show him I've already started preparing his order. "Someone's chipper this morning. Ready for that big test today?"

"You remembered!" He says, his face lighting up. "And you bet I'm ready!" He raps his knuckles against the counter. "I've been studying all week. I got thi—"

He stops abruptly, his gaze fixed out the front window behind me. I glance over my shoulder to see what's caught his attention.

There's a sleek black sedan idling across the street, windows tinted. Something about it raises the hairs on the back of my neck. As I stare, two more pull up along the curb, cutting off a bus trying to pull into its stop.

My stomach drops. I don't recognize these cars. They don't belong in my neighborhood.

I turn back to Jamal, who's frowning deeply. "What's going on out there, Miss Alessia?" he asks nervously. "I've never seen those cars around here before."

I wish I had an answer for him. My unease grows as I notice a group of men loitering down the block, watching the café. They're dressed in fine suits—so out of place for this part of town. Yet they're dressed similarly to the two men who were in here the other day. I usually have a knack for faces, but their appearance is just so… cookie cutter… that I couldn't tell you if they were in fact the same guys.

"I'm not sure," I reply slowly. I hand Jamal his sandwich and coffee. "Maybe you should head to school a different way today, okay? Why don't you head out the back through the kitchen, and help yourself to a sfogliatelle on your way."

He nods, eyes wide. "Yeah, good idea. Thank you for the pastry! See you tomorrow, Miss Alessia."

As he hurries out through the back, I can't shake the ominous feeling settling over me. Something isn't right.

Mrs. Chen glances up from her crossword, brow furrowed. "Strange folks hanging around outside today," she remarks, gesturing in the direction of the suited men. "Gives me the heebie-jeebies."

I just nod grimly, goosebumps spreading across my arms and causing me to shiver. I have a bad feeling about this.

The bell above the door jingles as it's thrown open, the cheerful sound at odds with the imposing figure that strides in.

He's tall, well over six feet, with a muscular frame shown off by his tailored suit. His hair is black, cropped short on the sides but longer on top, where it's slicked back from his face. High cheekbones and a strong jawline give him an aristocratic handsomeness, but it's the intensity of his icy blue eyes that makes him truly striking.

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