Chapter 28: Work at a bakery?

Soraya smiled, then brushed the snow off her knees and stood. She offered Santino her hand, helping him up before they headed back inside.

While Soraya went upstairs to change, Santino retrieved his phone from the table. The screen was filled with missed calls and urgent messages from Marco and Leo.

Knowing Marco wouldn’t call so many times without a serious reason, Santino immediately dialed him. Marco answered before the phone could ring twice.

"Boss," Marco said tensely. "I’ve been trying to reach you."

"I was busy. What happened?" Santino asked, his voice turning cold.

"We caught Franco. He confessed that he used the maid and manipulated her to get intel and attack you because he thought you had gone soft. But that’s not the main problem."

Santino’s eyes narrowed. "Then what is?"

"The Spanish Mafia is planning to attack our Coast Ridge port within this month. Franco has informants along the coast, and he claims they’re after our supply lines. We’ve locked him up so you can question him yourself."

Santino’s expression hardened. "Are you sure about this?"

"Not completely, Boss, but the threat is serious. They’ve stayed quiet for years. If they’re moving now, they’ve probably been planning this for a long time."

Santino looked out at the snow-covered valley, his jaw tightening. His peaceful getaway with Soraya was about to end sooner than he had planned.

"Fine," Santino said calmly. "I’ll cut the trip short. We’ll fly back tomorrow, and I’ll handle the rest once we land."

"Got it," Marco replied. Then, his tone softened slightly, dropping his formal voice for a second. "So... is everything okay between you two now? How’s it going up there?"

Santino didn’t answer right away; his silence was enough for Marco to assume.

Marco chuckled on the other end, completely unbothered. "Look, bro, just be a little soft with her. I’m telling you, I don’t think Soraya will stick around for long with the way you usually act."

A flash of irritation crossed Santino’s face. "Mind your own business, Marco. I’m hanging up."

Without waiting for a reply, Santino ended the call and tossed his phone back onto the desk.

He took a slow breath, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked toward the kitchen to tell Soraya that they had to go back.

Santino walked toward the kitchen but stopped outside the doorway when he heard Soraya talking. She stood by the stove, stirring a pot of soup, with her phone on speaker beside her.

"So, Marco really didn’t tell you anything?" Soraya asked as she chuckled.

Angelo sighed on the other end. "Not a word! Marco just said you two went out somewhere. Santino wasn’t answering my calls either, so I thought I’d call you and make sure you were okay."

"I’m fine, Angelo. It’s actually quite peaceful here," Soraya replied.

She stirred the soup for a moment before speaking again. "By the way, I need a favor. My old friend Clara changed her number, and I don’t have her new one. She owns a small bakery near the city center, La Dolce. Could you find her number for me?"

"Of course. Are you planning to order something?" Angelo asked casually.

"No, it’s nothing like that," Soraya replied quickly.

"Then what is it?" Angelo asked. "If you want something from the bakery, I can get it for you."

Soraya hesitated before answering. "Actually, I want to ask Clara if there’s a job opening at the bakery. I’m thinking of working there."

Angelo went quiet for a moment. "You want to work at a bakery? Soraya, why? If you want a job, you can work at our or Santino’s company. You don’t need to stand behind a counter all day, or you can come to us; you are an heiress after all."

Soraya shook her head, even though he couldn’t see her. "I don’t want to work at Santino’s company or join my family’s business. I want to do something on my own."

"Why? Is there a reason?" Angelo couldn’t understand what was going on in his sister’s head. He felt bad that even after having everything, she wasn’t ready to accept that.

"Because I need some distance from Santino," she admitted. "If I work at his company, he’ll keep getting involved in everything I do. I want to have a little freedom and make my own choices without depending on him."

Standing outside the kitchen, Santino felt his chest tighten.

He had thought things were getting better between them after their time here and the moments they had shared. But she was still looking for a way to keep her distance from him.

’She still wants to get away from me.’ He thought as his jaw tightened and he lowered his eyes. He didn’t know why her words bothered him so much, but the thought of her choosing a life away from him left him frustrated.

Meanwhile, Angelo sighed through the phone. "Alright, I understand. I’ll find Clara’s number and send it to you."

"Thank you, Angelo. Talk to you later."

Soraya ended the call and turned back to the stove. She picked up a wooden ladle and carefully served the hot, fragrant soup into two porcelain bowls, setting them neatly onto a tray.

She picked up the tray and turned toward the kitchen doorway, only to stop in her tracks when she saw Santino standing in the frame, watching her silently.

Her heart skipped a beat, wondering how long he had been standing there. "Santino... I didn’t hear you come in."

Santino’s face was expressionless, his dark eyes fixed on her. He didn’t mention the phone call he had just overheard. "I came to see if lunch was ready."

Soraya looked at his serious face, then down at the steaming bowls in her hands, thinking that he must not have heard her. She composed herself and offered him a shy, tentative smile as she held the tray.

"I made some soup for us," she said softly, her cheeks warming slightly under his intense gaze. "It’s freezing outside, and I thought... Well, you cooked dinner yesterday, so it was my turn to make something warm for you."

Santino looked from the steaming tray up to her face.

The gloominess vanished completely. The cold frustration melted away, replaced by a deep, unexpected warmth.

Even while fighting for her independence and planning a life outside his reach, she had still thought of him. She had cooked for him with her own hands, taking care of him silently.

A slow, genuine smile broke across Santino’s face. He stepped forward and gently took the heavy tray from her hands, his fingers brushing against hers.

"Thank you, Raya," he said softly, his dark eyes locking onto hers. "I wanted to tell you that we are going back tomorrow."