Coffee & Consequences. (1)
Giovanni’s POV
“Time is a currency I don’t waste. Yet here I was, locked in a cage of lies and deals, while one woman’s soft glowing light was already tearing through the thick walls I built around myself. Dangerous. Unwelcome. Irresistible. ”
I stood in front of the mirror in my office, adjusting the knot on my red tie with precision. The sharp lines of my black suit cut through the dim light like a blade... clean, exact, untouchable. My reflection stared back, calm and ruthless, every inch the man who didn’t tolerate mistakes. The man i am.
The door slammed open. Leo my right hand man, my best friend, the only man I trust, burst in, breathless and apologizing before I could say a word.
“Boss, I’m sorry, it won’t happen again. Traffic was…” I cut him off with a cold glare that froze the air. “Traffic,” I repeated slowly, voice low, “is not an excuse” Leo swallowed hard, the weight of his mistake hanging between is like a storm ready to unravel.
I turned back to the mirror, smoothing the crease in my sleeve. “You’re late. Again. And now we’re behind schedule for a meeting I don’t want to sit through in some bullshit cafe on a fucking Thursday”. Leo nodded quickly. ” I’ll make it right. I swear.” I didn’t respond. Because the truth was, this wasn’t just about being late. it was about being in control. And control was everything.
Leo didn’t wait for another word. we slipped out of the office and into the sleek black car waiting for downstairs. The city buzzed around us, but inside the silence was thick.
“Boss I’m really sorry about this. It’s not like me to mess up,” Leo muttered, glancing over. I didn’t answer right away. My hand rested on the gear, my eyes fixed ahead. The streets moved past in a blur, but my mind was already miles away half in the meeting, half in the irritation simmering under my skin.
Then quietly, measured, I spoke. “You’re the only man I trust, Leo. Thats why you get one warning.” He looked over, surprise flickering in his eyes before he nodded. “I got you,” he said, tone serious now. “Always.”
The car rolled to a slow stop in front of a small cafe tucked between a thrift shop and a bookstore, quaint, quiet, and way too fucking cute for the kind of meeting we were about to have. I hated these places. Too exposed. Too soft. Too...... normal. But the client insisted.
Leo stepped out first, doing a quick scan. I followed, my boots hitting the pavement like thunder. A bell chimed when we stepped inside. Warm air, the scent of espresso, and faint indie music met me like an unwelcomed hug. I was already annoyed... until I saw Her.
Behind the register.
Her.
She wasn’t looking at me. She was smiling, bright and soft, at an older man handing her exact change. Her dark eyes lit up when she laughed and that smile? Fuck. It wasn’t just friendly. It was kind.
Something about it got under my skin fast. Her skin was golden and smooth, glowing under the soft morning light. A few curls had slipped from her messy bun, falling around her face like they had a mind of their own. She tucked one behind her ear with a small flick of her fingers, graceful without trying.
I stood still for half second too long.
“Boss?” Leo’s voiced snapped me back.
Right. Business.
We moved to a corner table. My client was already seated, standing quickly when he saw me. “Mr. Moretti,” he said, extending his hand. Nervous. Sweaty. I shook it. Firm. Controlled.
We sat. He talked. Something about imports and expansions, timelines, projections, I wasn’t really listening.
Not when she was still behind the counter.
She hadn’t noticed me. Not really. She was too busy being gentle with strangers, too busy lighting up the room without even trying. I ordered a black coffee. No sugar. The barista nodded, barely looking up.
The client kept talking, voice low and eager, like he was desperate for my approval. I gave him just enough nods to keep him breathing. But my eyes drifted... again and again... back to her.
I didn’t believe in distractions. But something about her? she wasn’t just a distraction. She was a threat to my focus. A crack in my armor. A softness I didn’t ask for.
And I couldn’t stop watching her.
The client finally stopped talking, waiting for my response like a man hoping for stay of execution. I took a sip of my coffee, bitter, just how I liked it, and leaned back in my seat, eyes still drifting to her as she moved to help someone else.
“I’ll think about it,” I said, slow and final.
He started to speak again, probably to beg, but I stood up. He followed, fumbling for his briefcase, sweat blooming along his collar.
I shook his hand with just enough pressure to remind him who held the leash. “Don’t fuck this up,” I said, voice low and calm. “One mistake, and it won’t just be your deal on the line.”
His face went pale. He nodded like his life depended on it... which it might.
I walked out without another word, the bell chiming behind me.
Back in the car, I stared through the windshield for a few seconds, eyes locked on the cafe window, she was wiping down the counter, laughing at something the barista said. That smile again.
I didn’t even look at Leo when I said, “Go back inside” he blinked “What for?”
" The girl behind the counter. Check her name. Look at her tag”
Leo grinned, immediately catching on. “Anything else Romeo?′
I shot him a look.
He chuckled and got out. “Got it. Subtle.”
I watched him head back inside, slipping into the line like he belonged there. When he reached the register, he glanced at her tag, and then, to sell the whole thing, pointed at the pastry display and ordered the first thing he saw.
A fucking cake pop.
I shook my head, lips twitching just slightly.
Leo came back a few minutes later, cake pop in hand like it was classified intel.
“Her name’s Amara,” he said sliding into the passenger seat. “And you’re welcome.”
Amara
I said it once in my mind. It tasted warm. Dangerous.
I didn’t say another word as I put the car in drive.
But I knew one thing for sure, this wasn’t the last time I’d see her.
