Don Morano

To hell with Camilla and her shitty desserts! I'm rich! Ruby screamed in her head, not wanting to draw attention to herself.

Who is this guy to just sign away a hundred thousand dollars for appreciation? She fumbled with his business card and typed his name on the search engine, “Whoa, that was Alessandro Morano?" She palmed her mouth. “The head of the Morano mafia family? Shit! He's got serious money. Sounds like my perfect man.

“Shopping time!” She squealed and took an exotic ride to a designer shop.

When she got there, she didn't waste any time, and she called Alessandro, and after four rings, he picked up the phone.

“It is Ruby, the lady from earlier today.”

“Oh, Ruby,” he replied, “by the way, that cupcake of yours is amazing," he complimented, and Jax, who was still by his side munching on the cupcake, agreed with a thumbs up.

“I'm glad you like it,” she said, sipping on the wine she was served. “I just wanted to tell you that I didn't save you that night because of money. I saved you because of you.”

Alessandro's face squeezed to a grimace. “Because of me?” He intoned.

“Yes, because of you. You see, I've been crushing on you since the party.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, listen, my birthday is coming up, and I was thinking, how about we celebrate it together?” Ruby suggested, and Alessandro scratched his head.

“I'm quite busy right now. Can I think this over?” He asked.

“Yeah, you can. Call me anytime, day or night,” Ruby purred, and he cut the call. Alessandro Morano, that big, fat check isn't going to cut it. Your family's fortune will be mine someday, Ruby thought.

She left the designer store with bags in hand and took another exotic ride to have lunch when she got a call from Camilla.

“Hello, Ruby, I hope you are fine. The customer has not yet received her orders,” Camilla said, her voice laced with worry. 

Ruby snorted, “It's because I quit.” 

Camilla stood rooted to the spot, her entire body frozen in a state of utter disbelief. “Wait. What? But you own part of the business,” Camilla reasoned.

“Then BUY. ME. OUT!” Ruby yelled.

“Buy you out? How? You know I don't have that kind of cash lying around.”

“Figure it out. I'm not going to be stuck making pancakes with you forever, bitch.” Ruby ended the call. Camilla's heart felt like a deflated balloon as she stared at the cake in front of her, a wave of sadness washing over her.

The door chime signaled the entrance of a customer; despite the heaviness in her chest, her lips automatically curled into a big smile to make her customers feel welcomed. She couldn't afford to lose a sale. Not at this point. 

The face that greeted her made her smile widen. She could bet that her lips touched her ear. O M G, he was a Greek God! 

He strode into the room in his tailored suit, paired with a pair of sleek sunglasses; he exuded an air of refined confidence. His tall stature and perfectly styled black hair completed the picture of a man who seemed to have stepped out of a magazine. Every movement, from the way he adjusted his cufflinks to the deliberate tilt of his head, was a calculated display of effortless charm. His presence, magnetic.

Shit! If “hottie” was a person. Oh gosh, why am I staring at him like that? The poor man might think I want to eat him. I'm acting like a creep!

“Ah, what can I get you, sir?” Camilla tried to steady her voice, not wanting to make the situation awkward.

“Get me one of those cupcakes and a black coffee,” His hazel eyes raked over the shop.

“You have great taste.” Camilla praised, “A heavenly piece of cupcake coming right up.” She joked.

The door chime rang again, and she raised her head with a smile again, but her smile disappeared as soon as it appeared when she saw three goons from Donatello's walk in.

“Hello, cake bitch!” Their ringleader mouthed, “Got that protection money?”

“I have not raised the money yet; everything is a mess. My partner just left the business.” Camilla’s voice took on a pleading tone.

“I don't give a shit what's going on.” He shrugged, “I just want my money. Pay up now!” He uttered, his voice taking on a sharp edge to it, and Camilla's hands began to tremble.

“I have plenty of cupcakes; would you take that instead?” She asked, offering him a basket of cupcakes, and he dashed them to the floor with his left hand.

“No, I don't want your dog food,” he slammed his fists on the counter, and Camilla jerked back. 

Alessandro was sitting on the chair with a clenched jaw, his fists curled into a ball. 

“I should be paying someone to protect me from you,” Camilla spoke with feeble courage, “and if you keep harassing me, I'll… I'll call the police,” she stuttered.

The goons looked at each other and burst into laughter. “Uh, she will call the police on us. I'm so scared. Who will save me?” He mimicked her voice in mockery, “CRAP, you think we don't have the police on our payroll? Just tell me, how stupid are you?”

With Alessandro's legs still crossed, he muttered in a low, menacing tone, “I suggest you show the lady a little bit of respect.”

The leader of the trio whirled around to see him. “Are you stupid too or something?” the leader asked, walking towards him with a sour look. “GET OUT!” he shouted, and a small smirk crept to the side of Alessandro's lips.

Camilla walked around the counter and stood between Alessandro and the hoodlum. “Pick on me all you want, but leave him out of this.” She pointed at Alessandro, “He is my customer.”

“Ah!” She yelped when the leader of the trio snagged her necklace from her neck and threw it to the floor.

The leader chuckled and leaned closer to her, “This girl has got guts,” he said, and Camilla shifted her face away from his mouth. His breath reeked of cheap liquor and cigarettes.

“You are also pretty as well. He grabbed her and pulled her body against himself. “I hope you don't mind paying with your body, sweetheart. With that, you won't need to pay your dues for a very long time..." Before he could finish his sentence, Alessandro sent a sharp right hook flying his way, and he staggered away from Camilla.

When he touched his nose and felt blood, he rushed towards his attacker, and in one swift motion, Alex jumped and landed a devastating kick to his head, and he fell to the floor with a thud.

The other goons flew in his direction, and, in a series of fluid, well-practiced punches and kicks, Alex left them dizzy with pain without any of them laying a hand on him.

He strode to Camilla, “Are you okay?” he asked, and Camilla's eyes widened when she saw the leader behind him, “Look out!” She screamed, and Alex dodged the punch and sent a dashing elbow to his nose, and the goon fell to the floor, reeling with pain. He got up almost immediately when Alessandro made an attempt to walk to him, and they all scampered away from the restaurant with their tails between their legs.

“This isn't over; the Donatello's will be back for you,” the leader threatened, palming his nose, and both of them laughed, the goons' wake punctuated by the door chime.

He straightened his suit when they left and walked to her. 

Camilla felt butterflies in her belly at her knight in shining armor. He took on every one of them without much of a scratch. Even his eyeglasses were intact. Just that his knuckles were bloody.

“Are you okay?” He asked and she saw the warmth in his eyes.

“I am. Thanks to you,” she said, and he nodded, “I wish I had your moves. I'd have easily dealt with them.” 

“Yeah, I don't doubt it.” He picked up her necklace. “Hey, I'm sorry about your necklace.”

She picked up the broom and packer. “Don't worry about them,” she said. It's fake anyway.” She started to clean the mess, and he strutted to her.

“Let me help with that,” he offered, and she shook her head.

“That's very nice of you, but you don't have to. I'll handle it.” 

A sugary tremor swept down her spine when she felt his cold palm on hers. “I caused part of the mess too; you should let me do it.” He took the packer from her. 

“Okay,” she let off the leash, allowing him to help her clean.

“You might want to buy all the cupcakes you can now. I'm shutting down the business.” She informed him.

“What? Why?” He asked.

“My partner left. I can't buy her out, plus I have picked off a mafia gang too; there is no point.” She explained, hopelessness eating at her.

“Do you like being a pastry chef?” Alex asked, looking at her with keen interest.

“Yeah. My grandma taught me everything I know. When I'm in the kitchen, it feels like all my worries are gone.” She told him, smiling as she recalled her memories with her grandma.

“So they are like magic pancakes?” He asked, finishing up with the cleaning.

“Sort of. It seems like the magic ran out today.” She heaved a sigh and took a seat, elbows planted on the table, fists under her jaws.

Alex kept the broom and packer. “What if I invest in this place? Would it change things?” He asked as he took a seat beside her, and her heart flipped in her chest.

“I don't understand. Why? Why would you want to?” She queried him in bewilderment.

He took away his sunshade, and she felt her stomach drop, a sinking sensation that left her momentarily light-headed. She blinked rapidly as if trying to shake the vision before her eyes that couldn't be real. This was the man she saved the other night.

“It's you?” She finally spoke.

“Yes, it's me.” He said with a shrug.

“How is your wound?” She asked him, and he looked at his blood-stained knuckles.

“Oh, my knuckles?" He smiled and shook his head, "It's not my blood; don't worry about that. So, what about the investment?” He circled back to the main topic.

“I just don't understand why you would want to invest in the business.” She told him, and he looked at her in contemplation.

“There is this girl; she saved my life; she introduced me to this place; that's why I'm here.” He informed her, and she felt her chest heavy.

Another woman? He doesn't recognise me. She finally realised.

“Thanks for your help. No one has ever stood up for me. You are a good person.” Camilla thanked him again.

***

“That's the first time anyone has ever called me that,” he responded, fiddling with his pen and checkbook. He got a waft of her perfume again and knew that it was definitely the same perfume the girl who saved him wore that night.

“It's true, not like those fucking mafia scums, the Donatello's, or even worse, the Moranos.” She snorted, and Alessandro's eyes widened for a hot minute before he masked his face with indifference.

“Yeah, those damn mafia people.” He said writing the check, and when he was done, he offered it to her, and she took it, and her eyes almost fell out of their sockets when she saw the amount.

“But my entire business is not even worth that,” she hesitated, and he chortled.

“Well, it will be from today. I'm officially an investor.” He announced to her, and she shook her head.

“Why do you want to help me? Who are you?” She asked for clarification.

“My name is Alessandro…” Oh snap, she doesn't like mafias; his eyes scanned the kitchen, and he saw some cookies, “Alessandro Cookies.”

“Really? Alessandro Cookies? How about ice cream?” She joked.

“That's funny.” 

“Are you sure about this?” She asked again, praying this was not a prank.

“I have already made up my mind. I'm in the moment where you take the check.” He said, bringing his hand closer to her.

“Can't back down now.” She slipped the check out of his hands.

“I won't go back on my word,” he said, putting his chequebook and pen inside his pocket, “unless it is to write a bigger check.”

“Well, I promise to make your investment worth it,” Camilla offered him a handshake, and he shook it.

The door chime rang, and Jax, Alessandro's bodyguard, walked in. “Don Morano.”