The Billionaire Mafia Don Ordered the Same Cake Every Morning, but the Curvy Baker Never Expected Who Had Left the Note Beneath Her Recipe Box

Five minutes after Dominic Moretti and his men left, two heavy black SUVs slammed to a halt outside the bakery.

Adrien Moretti strode through the shattered glass of the front door, his face a terrifying mask of absolute fury. His dark eyes scanned the room, instantly locking onto Lena, who was kneeling on the floor helping Rosa sweep up the shattered display glass.

In two long strides, Adrien was at her side. He grabbed her arms gently, pulling her up to her feet.

"Did he touch you?" Adrien asked, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that shook with suppressed rage. "Did Dominic lay a hand on you?"

"No," Lena said, taking a steadying breath as she looked into his dark, chaotic eyes. "He just broke my display case and threatened to burn my shop down in twenty-four hours."

Adrien turned to Marcus, who stood at the doorway. "Find Dominic’s crew. Tell them if any of them cross west of the river before sunrise, I will put them in the ground myself."

"Yes, Don Moretti," Marcus bowed his head and immediately stepped outside to make the calls.

Adrien turned back to Lena. He looked down at her hands, which were trembling slightly despite her best efforts to stay composed. "Pack your things. You and your assistant are coming with me."

"I'm not leaving my shop, Mr. Moretti," Lena snapped, pulling her arms back. "This is my livelihood! I didn't ask to be dragged into your family's mafia drama!"

"You don't have a choice, Lena!" Adrien shouted, his composure snapping for the first time since she had met him. He took a step closer, towering over her, his broad shoulders blocking out the light from the street. "My uncle Dominic doesn't make empty threats. He thinks you're hiding my grandmother's ledger. He will burn this building with you inside it just to prove a point!"

Lena glared up at him, her chest heaving. "And why does he think I have a ledger?"

Adrien hesitated. "Because of the cake."

Lena reached into her apron pocket, pulled out the yellowed piece of parchment, and slapped it against Adrien’s chest. "He’s wrong. There is no ledger. There was only this."

Adrien caught the paper before it fell. His eyes dropped to the flowing lavender ink, then to the embossed wax seal of his family crest at the bottom.

His face turned completely pale.

His thumb brushed over the initials—T.M.—and the breath left his lungs in a sharp, ragged gasp.

"She left this... for whoever found the box?" Adrien whispered, his voice cracking.

"She knew your family was dangerous," Lena said softly, her anger fading into a sudden, deep empathy as she watched the powerful don crumble before a dead woman's handwriting. "She didn't hide money or deeds in that box, Adrien. She hid her peace. And she wanted it to go to someone who wouldn't use it as a weapon."

Adrien closed his eyes, holding the paper against his chest as if it were a holy relic.

When he opened his eyes again, the vulnerability was gone, replaced by a fierce, unshakeable determination. He looked at Lena with an intensity that made her pulse leap.

"I won't let him touch you," Adrien swore softly. "Come with me to my estate. It's the safest place in the city. Give me twenty-four hours to handle Dominic, and I will restore your bakery twice over."