Page 31 of Malevolent Secrets

Small, round tables are scattered throughout the space, each adorned with a simple vase of fresh flowers. Comfortable chairs upholstered in deep burgundy fabric invite patrons to linger and relax.

The coffee shop is quiet, with only a few patrons scattered around. I spot Mark at a corner table, his intense eyes scanning the room.

He’s a man in his forties, with a rugged appearance and an air of cautious confidence. Even from a distance, his intense gaze is palpable.

He’s a man who looks like he’s seen more than his fair share of the world’s darker side. His rugged appearance, marked by a scruffy beard and sharp features, gives him the air of someone who’s been through battles, both literal and metaphorical.

Approaching the table, I can’t help but notice the way he sizes up the room, his eyes flicking to each entrance and exit, taking in every detail.

He’s cautious, methodical, and his presence alone demands respect. There’s a quiet authority about him, an unspoken understanding that he knows the risks involved in his line of work and has accepted them long ago.

Yet, as I get closer, there’s something else in his eyes—a glint of warmth, a hint of understanding. It’s subtle, but it’s there, suggesting that despite his hardened exterior, he’s genuinely here to help.

This mix of qualities puts me on alert, but it also makes me curious. Here is a man who doesn’t shy away from danger, who delves into the darkest corners of society to uncover the truth.

I take a deep breath, feeling a mix of anxiety and determination. This is the kind of ally I need if I’m going to find out what happened to Jeremy.

"Daniella?" he asks as I approach. He stretched out his hand and I take it in a firm handshake.

"Yes. Thank you for meeting me."

We sit down, and after ordering our drinks, I dive into my story.

“Jeremy was my fiancé. We were supposed to get married in September. He went out one night for a late business meeting and he didn’t come back. Later that night, I got a call from the police station asking me to come in and identify a body. It was Jeremy.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” His tone is not placating. It isn’t condescending either and it is somewhat refreshing to talk to someone about this, someone who didn’t know me before this whole tragedy, someone who can look at the situation objectively.

I nod and take a sip of the too-sweet latte.

“Originally, they didn’t know what caused the accident, just that the brakes had malfunctioned. And when I took the car to the mechanic, I found out that the brake lines had been cut.”

“Jeez. Are you sure?”

“Yes. The guy who checked is someone I trust with my life.”

“And you hadn’t seen Massimo before the funeral?”

I shake my head no.

“He only stayed about five minutes and he lied about knowing Jeremy from college. Jeremy never went to college.”

“How do you know that the Durettis are involved? Massimo Raineri is another scum of the earth. He could’ve been the one to kill your fiancé.”

“I know that. But when I met with Massimo…”

“Wait, what?” Mark’s eyes widen with shock. “What do you mean when you met Massimo?”

“I-I went to see him.”

“He sent you an invitation?”

“No, no, I tracked him down to what I’m guessing was just a hideout of his, because it was pretty rundown. He was wearing twenty-thousand-dollar Louboutin’s. Seems weird that he would have any of his businesses in such a shitty part of town.”

“Let me get this straight. You went to see Massimo. You walked into what sounds like a pretty scary part of town all by yourself?”

I nod and he continues.

“You talked to him about all of this, and he actually answered your questions? He let you walk out alive?”

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