The mafia boss is the owner of the newly opened bakery?!

Chapter 3.

The golden light bathed the bakery in warmth and poured from sleek countertops to the mahogany wood floorboards. The polka dotted wallpaper reminded Maria of her childhood dress that she loved so much... before her parents sold it for more money. A pink fluffy carpet in the form of a cat lay outstretched in the middle, the only thing not in a stack of boxes. Hanging from a rack was a bright turquoise apron as well as some cooking appliances.

The inside was a total contrast to the outside rain. If Maria were to get murdered and drugged by following a stranger into his store, she'd in all honesty like it to be here. And it had only been two minutes.

Damien, immediately upon stepping in, brushed his polished black dress shoes on the turquoise welcome mat and rushed to the back of the counter like a man with a goal. He rolled back his sleeves, revealing several tattoos lined all on his arms. Maria couldn't make any of them out before he disappeared behind the counters. Searching in some boxes, he pulled out his hand holding a donut like he pulled that one sword out from the stone himself.

"Make yourself comfortable." He gestured to the only free diner seat that wasn't occupied by, can you guess it, more boxes. The second Maria sat down she slouched, letting free her ungodly posture to the world.

He returned with two donuts in hand. One chocolate chip that was promptly given to Maria and one sugary donut that he bit right into with the haste of a starved madman. When Maria took a bite, she realized. Damn. This is actually really good. It was so good in fact that the author is currently craving donuts.

Maria's town had no shortage of donuts. There were actually too many donuts. In her town, bakeries and donut shops were a highly competitive market, and that was all because of the police's love for donuts and baked goods.

As the crime rate and gangs increased, so did the police and security measures, leading to more bakeries opening up shop. Donut shops stacked upon each other all vowing to get the consumers' interests. 'Spicy donuts with sweet chili', 'curry donuts'. Psychopathic behavior. Maria grew an incredibly specialized and controversial taste for donuts in particular due to this, namely that donuts should stay sugary delectables.

But Bridgett would say otherwise. Oh Bridgett. Bridgett, Bridgett, Bridgett. Goddamn Bridgett.

"You can't have done all of this in one day," Maria remarked.

He laughed, though she failed to understand what was so funny. "I had some help. I'd have wanted to be finished by now so I could open shop tomorrow, but my friend had to leave."

"That's still possible."

"If you held a world championship in unpacking, it could be possible."

"I didn't think anyone lived here. In this part of town."

"Oh, pfft, there's a whole underground community here. That's what my friend says, at least. I'm inclined to believe him. He's lived here in this desolate district for what, over two years?"

She was skeptical. "Why start a bakery here? You could get more customers in the bigger city."

"Just decided this place needs a donut shop to spice things up," Damien continued, right after unlocking his jaw like a snake just to stuff an entire donut in there, the 'where he got those donuts' answer unknown, "Besides, I've wanted to start a bakery by myself for a long while now."

That's a rather heroic act. Something felt wrong, though. "What kinds of donuts are you selling?"

His next words would repeat in her mind for the coming week. "Oh, a whole variety of them. Spicy donuts-" Maria saw red, "- with sweet chili-" Maria saw redder, "- oh, and of course we can't forget the curry donuts!" Maria saw such red that there was no word for the red she was seeing. Perhaps noticing her inner turmoil, he hastily added, "I'll still sell the classics, yeah? So like... chocolate donuts, sugary donuts... that way I can cater to the people here."

"Right," she said with gritted teeth. Goddamn Bridgett. You've spread your influences over on a good man. Maria inhaled and exhaled, engaging in an act called breathing. It gave oxygen and was something she partook in daily. "Let's unpack?"

"Good idea!"

The two got to unpacking and filling the silence. They had a lot of things in common, actually. Such as their love for reading. Even with her amazing vocabulary, Maria stumbled across a few items she didn't know the names of. It looked to be a cleaver. Maybe for the potatoes. In donuts. French fry donuts were one of the few things she could get past. When questioned, he just waved it off and told her it's "nothing important" with a smile.

Surprisingly, they'd finished unpacking in a mere 2 hours. It was close to impossible since none of them held a world championship in unpacking. Damien offered her as many donuts as she'd like as a reward, which she turned down to the visible disappointment of Damien. His donuts weren't all bad, they were just... weird.

Looking at the clock, she was reminded of the time, mainly because she had to get home at seven. The time was eight. You know what else was eight? The amount of missed calls she got. Oh hell.

Damien blinked.

"Oh, alright. I'll see you to the door, then." The man debated with himself over something. "Hey. Uh... pardon my intrusion but... Why were you crying when I..."

The weight of reality came crashing down on her again. She had no job. She was not going to get a job. "No, it's fine. I've been trying to get a job for a while now. And I've just been leeching off my stepbrother's money. I finally got considered so I went to the interview and..." She paused, considering her words. "As you can probably tell, it didn't go so well."

"I know how you feel. It's tough. I get it, you know? Before this, I had no job either. Now I'm working here doing a job I love. Everything is going to work out soon enough, okay?"

"Ah... right. Thank you. I... might swing by later to buy some donuts. They were delicious. You're really good at this stuff." They said their goodbyes, and Maria smiled at him as he shut the door.

His face fell. He pulled out his phone, scrolled through his contacts, and paused. Paused for another second longer. One second more meant death in his job. His hands shook and he distantly registered pressing the number. It passed two beats before it was immediately picked up and directed to another number.

"Hey, Carlos. Yeah, it's been a while. No, I'm still here in Hersa. I was just wondering if you have a... Maria Hernana?" He fidgeted with the countertop. "Yes? Could you call it off? It's a personal matter. I'll deal with her myself. Thank you, Carlos."