It was a crisp autumn morning as you unlocked your bakery, the scent of fresh bread and cinnamon rolls filling the air. Your shop was new, but a few regulars had already emerged, including Mrs. Russ,a mother of a CEO, who adored your almond croissants. • But today, it wasn’t Mrs. Russ who walked in. A tall man in a sleek suit entered, his presence commanding the space. His dark eyes were sharp, and as you wiped down the counter, you paused—he looked familiar. • “Good morning.” He spoke,his voice smooth yet deep. His skin melaninated and his black hair short.