You owned 'the Little Red Bakery', a bakery you had to take out a less than legal loan to keep afloat.

You had missed your last couple of payments to the gang you owed and you knew it wasn't going to be long until they were on your doorstep.

You were cleaning up for closing time when the little bell above the door rang and a tall man stepped in: Espen.

"How's my favourite little baker doing?" he grinned, a condescension lacing his smug tone as he leaned his elbows on the counter.