PART 6: Midnight in the Bakery
PART 6: Midnight in the Bakery
Dark intruders face sudden underworld reckoning.
Before I could even stand up to warn him, Nathaniel moved.
He didn't yell. He didn't issue warnings.
He stepped out from the kitchen doorway into the dim amber glow of the streetlights filtering through the front windows, his shadow stretching long across the bakery floor.
Two men—burly, dressed in dark leather jackets and carrying heavy steel tire irons—froze near the pastry counter.
"Looking for me?" Nathaniel asked, his voice dead calm, carrying that terrifying, effortless authority that made the air feel thin.
The lead intruder spun around, raising his iron bar with a snarl. "Caldwell! You're dead—!"
He never finished the sentence.
From the shadows near the front register, one of Nathaniel’s personal bodyguards—a man named Viktor who had been stationed quietly in the vestibule—moved with blinding, terrifying speed.
Viktor closed the distance in two strides, swept the intruder's legs out from under him, and slammed him face-first onto the wooden floor with a sickening crunch.
The second man panicked, lunging toward the kitchen where I was hiding.
"Don't you dare," Nathaniel growled.
In a single fluid motion, Nathaniel drew a sleek, matte-black firearm from his holster, pointing it with absolute, unwavering precision straight at the second intruder's chest.
The man stopped dead in his tracks, dropping his tire iron onto the floor with a loud, ringing clatter that made the mixing bowls vibrate.
"Drop to your knees. Hands behind your head. Now," Nathaniel ordered.
The intruder didn't hesitate. He fell to his knees, shaking uncontrollably, staring at the barrel of the gun as if looking down the gates of hell.
"Who sent you?" Nathaniel asked, stepping closer, his voice dropping into a dark, lethal register. "Vito Moretti? Does that old fool think he can test my borders while I'm eating dinner?"
"I... I swear we were just told to scare you! We didn't know—!"
"You didn't know what?" Nathaniel interrupted coldly. "That breaking into a civilian bakery in the middle of the night to send a message crosses a line?"
He gestured to Viktor, who quickly zip-tied both men's wrists behind their backs with military-grade precision.
"Get them out of here," Nathaniel instructed without breaking eye contact with the cowering men. "Dump them outside Moretti’s primary social club on Hanover Street with a clear message: Next time, I don't use zip-ties."
"Understood, boss," Viktor muttered, hauling both men up by their collars and dragging them toward the broken front door as if they weighed nothing at all.
Within ninety seconds, the bakery was quiet again.
The rain continued to fall outside, pattering against the broken lock of the front door.
I stepped out from behind the flour bins, my legs shaking so badly I had to grab the edge of the prep table to keep from collapsing.
Nathaniel turned around, sliding his gun back into his holster.
The moment his eyes landed on me, the cold, lethal mafia boss vanished instantly, replaced by a man consumed by sudden, raw panic.
"Emma..." he breathed out, rushing across the room to me. "Are you hurt? Did they see you?"
"I'm fine," I choked out, tears finally breaking free and spilling down my cheeks. "I'm fine... but Nathaniel, they came here because of you. Because you protected me. This war... it's going to follow you here, and it's going to put Maisie and me in the crossfire."
Nathaniel stopped inches away from me, his hands hovering in the air as if he wanted to pull me into his arms but was afraid I would pull away.
"I won't let anyone touch you," he swore, his voice fierce and trembling with emotion. "I swear to you, Emma, I will burn Moretti's entire empire to ash before I let a single hair on your head—or Maisie's—get harmed."
May you like
"Words aren't enough anymore, Nathaniel," I whispered, looking straight into his tired, beautiful eyes. "You can't just fix my life and walk away when the violence catches up."
Nathaniel stared at me, the silent plea of a lonely man finally finding a home echoing in the space between us.
