Pavani gasped as the sound of a gunshot ripped through the air. She couldn’t see their faces, only the vague outlines of shadowy figures standing over a lifeless body. The scent of gunpowder lingered in the dream, mingling with the overwhelming sense of fear and helplessness.

She tried to scream, but no sound came.

The second gunshot jolted her awake. Her heart pounded as she sat up in her tiny apartment, her breaths ragged and her body drenched in sweat. For a moment, she stared at the ceiling, disoriented. It took her a while to realize she was safe, far away from the life she had left behind.

But the dream reminded her—she wasn’t free of it, not entirely.

A quick glance at the clock made her stomach drop. “Oh no,” she muttered, scrambling out of bed. It was already past 8 a.m., and she was late for her shift at the cafe.

After a hurried shower and a quick swipe of lipstick to brighten her face, Pavani rushed out the door, her heart still heavy with the remnants of her nightmare.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The familiar scent of coffee and baked goods greeted her as she entered the cafe. Pavani smiled at her coworkers, who greeted her with warm waves.

“Late start,Pakhi?” Maria, one of her colleagues, teased.

Pavani chuckled softly. “I overslept. Let’s hope today’s not too busy.”

She quickly donned her apron and got to work behind the counter, organizing orders and chatting with the occasional regular. The morning passed smoothly, and she was just beginning to relax when a low, commanding voice cut through the air.

“One black coffee.”

Her head snapped up, and her breath stilled. Dante stood at the counter, his piercing gray eyes locking onto hers. His tailored suit hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, and his presence filled the small cafe, drawing the attention of everyone around him.

For a moment, she froze. Her mind raced back to their last encounter and the way he had silenced the Santori brothers with just a few words. And now here he was, standing in front of her.

“Miss?” His voice was smooth, but there was a distinct edge to it, a quiet authority that demanded attention.

Pavani blinked, snapping out of her thoughts. “Yes, of course. One black coffee. Coming right up.”

As she turned to prepare his order, she felt his gaze burning into her back, sending a shiver down her spine. Her hands trembled slightly, and she silently cursed herself for being so affected by his presence.

She mustered her courage and met his eyes. “Your coffee would be ready. You can take a seat, and I’ll bring it to you.”

He didn’t move. Instead, he leaned against the counter, his lips curling into a small, knowing smirk. “I think I’ll wait here.”

Her heart skipped a beat. The air between them felt charged, like an unspoken challenge hung in the space. She glanced away, busying herself with another order, but his presence was impossible to ignore.

“You’re not from around here,” he said suddenly, his deep voice cutting through the background noise.

She hesitated, her fingers tightening around the cup in her hand. “Why do you think that?”

He tilted his head slightly, studying her like he was peeling back her layers. “You have an accent. Soft, but distinct.”

“I’ve been here for a while,” she said quickly, hoping to steer the conversation away.

Dante raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “What’s your name?”

Pavani froze. She knew better than to reveal her real name, especially to someone like him—someone who exuded danger and control. After a brief pause, she forced a smile and replied, “Pakhi.”

His gaze lingered on her face, as though he was trying to gauge the truth. “Pakhi,” he repeated, the name rolling off his tongue like a slow caress. “Beautiful name.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she quickly looked away. “Thank you.”

Dante’s smirk widened, satisfied with her reaction. He reached into his wallet, placing a crisp bill on the counter—far more than the coffee cost.

“For the coffee,” he said, his voice dropping lower, “and for your courage.”

She stared at him, unsure of what to say. Before she could respond, he added, “Good day, Pakhi.”

With that, he turned and walked away, his presence leaving a palpable void in the room.

Pavani released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She clutched the counter, her thoughts swirling. Who was this man?

And why did she feel like she’d just played a dangerous game without realizing the stakes?

Outside, Dante slid into his car, his mind still on her. Her hesitation, her shy bravery—it all intrigued him. But there was something about her that didn’t add up, and Dante De Luca wasn’t a man who left questions unanswered.