The Mafia Boss's Bride

Chapter 86 : Meeting with ShadowByte.

The Luca's Cafe hummed like a beehive buzzing with gossip and clinking spoons. Fairy lights winked like stars through leafy ceilings, casting warm pools of light on worn wooden tables. People talked over lattes and espressos, their voices mixing like spices in a warm stew.

ShadowByte, all dressed in black like a night shadow, sat in a corner of the cafe. His black-on-black outfit, from the polished blazer to the crisp trousers, whispered wealth in a hushed tone. 

His eyes flicked from the cafe's busy floor to his wristwatch. 7:02 PM. Two minutes past Farah's promised meet-up. He wasn't worried, though. Worry was for amateurs. He leaned back, sinking into the leather booth like a panther at rest. 

A young waiter with sun-bleached hair approached, his smile brighter than the fairy lights. "Good evening, sir. Ready to order?"

ShadowByte's voice was smooth as honey. "Not yet," he said, eyes glued to the cafe door. "Waiting for someone."

The waiter nodded politely. "Sure thing, sir. Take your time. We'll be here when you are."

Alone again, his sharp eyes subtly shifted to the entrance. Each tick of the second hand echoed like a hammer blow against his steely calm. His boots tapped a staccato rhythm against the floor.

Then, a splash of red! Farah, in a stunning knee-length dress, walked in. "Stunning," ShadowByte murmured, the word barely a whisper on his lips.

But the red tide receded. Behind Farah stood Elara, tall and brooding. Farah didn't came alone; she came with her boyfriend. He saw they were still standing near the entrance and talking something. 

ShadowByte's phone buzzed in his pocket, revealing Farah's name on the screen. Farah never saw ShadowByte's face, she was calling for his location. 

A smirk played on Shadowbyte's lips as he answered, "Table twenty-one?"

Farah's eyes darted across the cafe, landing on the designated table, "Gotcha, ShadowByte. See you in a minute."

As they reached table twenty-one, Elara's brow furrowed into a thunderous scowl. His eyes bored into ShadowByte, who rose to greet them with an smile. "Samir?" Elara spat?

ShadowByte, the elusive ShadowByte, was unveiled – Samir Rahman, brother to Ibrahim. Farah confusingly asked Elara, "How did you know ShadowByte?"

Samir stood and greeted them, "Yes, We know each other. I'm Samir Rahman. Ibrahim's brother."

Farah was confused. She hadn't anticipated this twist. She never met Samir and had only interacted with ShadowByte online a couple of times. Samir gestured them to sit and the trio settled on their chairs. For her, ShadowByte was just... ShadowByte.

"I thought you'd come alone." Samir told Farah. 

"You asked for a coffee treat from me, and I didn't bother specifying," Farah responded confidently. "Besides Elara and I always come here in the evenings."

Samir nodded and looked at Elara. Elara was glaring at him with fixed gazes. Samir understood that Elara wasn't pleased with him meeting Farah. He recognised the warning signs of possessiveness, of jealousy.

Samir extended the menu toward Farah, "Feel free to order."

Farah insisted, "No, no. You're getting the treat, so you should order."

Samir chuckled, "I'd rather know your choice of coffee, Farah. It's your taste I want to indulge, not mine." His gaze lingered on Farah a beat too long. Elara felt a primal urge to punch him, to wipe that smug smirk off his face.

He crossed his arms, his death glare fixed on Samir. He wasn't getting good vibes from this guy. Wasn't it enough that Ibrahim had taken his sister? It wasn't just the Rahman blood coursing through Samir's veins that raised Elara's hackles – it was the way Samir's eyes lingered on Farah a beat too long, the way his smile. His smile was disgusting. Was Samir attempting to snatch Farah? The Rahman brothers, it seemed, had a penchant for stealing what wasn't theirs. Was that their hobby? Elara's fists clenched, his police instincts screaming at him to intervene.