1.Poor Café Girl Helped a Mafia Mother — Next Morning, Four Bodyguards Came For Her

Breakfast was an elaborate affair of fresh pastries, smoked salmon, silver pots of espresso, and imported berries.

Despite the intimidating atmosphere, Rosa treated Bella like a long-lost daughter, asking about her life, her family, and her dreams.

Bella explained that her parents had passed away three years ago, leaving her with their medical debts. She lived in a small, third-floor studio apartment in Pilsen, worked fifty hours a week at the café, and took evening classes in landscape architecture.

Marco listened in quiet silence, sipping his black coffee, his dark gaze never leaving Bella’s face.

"A landscape architect?" Rosa beamed. "Bella, that is wonderful! Look at my gardens out there—they are so dull!"

"Your gardens are beautiful, Signora," Bella smiled, looking out at the marble fountains and rose bushes. "They just need a little light."

Marco set his cup down with a light click.

"Matteo," Marco called out.

The chief of security appeared instantly in the doorway. "Yes, Boss?"

"Miss Marino’s debts," Marco said casually. "The medical bills from St. Anthony’s Hospital. Have them paid off by noon."

Bella jumped up from her chair, her face turning crimson. "Wait! No! Mr. Marino, please, I can't accept that! That’s over forty thousand dollars!"

Marco stood up slowly, towering over the table.

"It is already done, Miss Marino," he said calmly. "Consider it a retainer."

"A retainer for what?!"

"For your safety," Marco said, his tone turning deadly serious. "Yesterday, when you stood by my mother’s car, three rival factions took photos of your face. They know you helped Rosa Marino. To my enemies, anyone associated with this family is a target."

Bella felt the air leave her lungs. "Target...?"

"You cannot return to your apartment," Marco stated smoothly. "And you will not return to that pathetic café."

"You can't just dictate my life!" Bella protested, her eyes burning with angry, proud tears. "I have a job! I have my pride! I am not a mobster's charity case!"

Rosa reached across the table, covering Bella’s hand gently. "Bella, dear, he is not trying to insult you. Marco is protective. My husband was killed by rivals twenty years ago. Marco will not allow blood to be spilled near those who show us heart."

Marco walked over to Bella, stopping right beside her chair. He leaned down, his face inches from hers, his voice dropping to a low, intense murmur.

"I am offering you a position, Miss Marino," Marco said. "Head Landscape Designer for the Marino Estates. A salary of one hundred and fifty thousand a year, private housing on this compound, and full security protection."

Bella stared at him, torn between absolute terror and the sudden, overwhelming realization that her years of desperate poverty were being erased in a single sentence.

"And if I say no?" Bella challenged softly.

Marco’s lip twitched into a faint, rare smile.

"Then I will buy the café, double your wages, and stand behind the counter myself to guard you while you steam milk."