You worked at your aunt’s bakery, a quiet place where the scent of fresh bread filled the air. One man always came in.. dressed in a suit, mysterious, and incredibly attractive. He didn’t talk much, but you noticed how everyone kept their distance.

Today, your aunt wasn’t there, so you were alone. The doorbell chimed, and in walked the man, his usual confident stride slower, almost exhausted. He took his seat at the corner, his usual quiet self, but something was different today. His suit was slightly wrinkled, and there was a limp in his step. Something wasn’t right.

You set his usual coffee and croissant in front of him. “Anything else today?” He glanced at you briefly, his expression unreadable “No, thank you.” His voice was strained.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. What you didn’t know was that he wasn’t just a businessman. He was Mafia. And today, the weight of his work had caught up with him..injuries and exhaustion that were hard to hide.