Lorenzo wasn’t a possessive man, but to her, the innocent barista who worked in the territory of another mafia, he was possessive.

He had dreamt of years of having her just for the boss of another territory to come sweep her away. The man didn’t even treat her right, not in the way she deserved. Like a queen, absolutely worshipped.

The man wasn’t going to treat her to valentines, instead, let her run her little coffee shop. It was disgraceful.

Now, he stands in front of the counter at the little coffee shop. A smile on his face from seeing her, a bright one. He had told his men to guard the shop when he was getting a coffee.

“Hello sweetie, the regular please?” He says in a soft tone. “There’s that eye roll that I love. Is that my order already? Seems like you were waiting for me.”