Chapter 128: Uninvited

"I’ve been waiting for you so we could have breakfast."

Tom’s lips parted slightly as he processed the words that had just left Sienna’s mouth.

However, before he could answer her, his phone beeped.

He glanced down immediately and true to his guess, it was a message from Bree.

The message was short; Bree had tracked down the man, she added an address, followed by a line saying she was already there. Tom typed back quickly.

’Don’t let him leave before I arrive.’

After sending the message, he looked up at Sienna again. Her eyes were still twinkling with the breakfast invitation. She was waiting for his response. The table behind her had already been set. Whatever reset she had been trying to force this morning, she had prepared for it.

Tom breathed out. He knew she might interpret this as cruelty from him but he had no choice. He shook his head as he opened his mouth;

"I’m sorry, I won’t be staying for breakfast." he said.

Sienna blinked. The brightness in her expression slipped away fast, replaced by disappointment before she could hide it.

"What?" she blurted out, sounding like she had misheard him.

"I need to go out now." Tom said. He didn’t even have time to start explaining as he would have done in order not to hurt her feelings but the address on his phone mattered more than the carefully arranged morning she had been waiting to offer.

He turned and left the house in a hurry.

Sienna stayed rooted to where she was for a second even after the door sounded shut, staring at the space he had occupied. She glanced at the dining table behind her, her gaze moving from the plates, to the cutleries and cups which had been arranged for two. She grunted under her breath in frustration then grabbed her handbag from the side chair.

Aria came out from the kitchen just in time to see her moving toward the entrance.

"Ma’am, aren’t you eating?" Aria asked. "You instructed us to prepare breakfast."

"Not anymore. Clear the table. I should be at the office." Sienna said, already adjusting the bag on her arm.

Aria did not understand the sudden rush, but Sienna gave her no room to ask further. She exhaled deeply then walked out of the house with the same controlled expression and pace she used when she refused to let disappointment sit on her face in public.

~~~~~~~~~~

By the time Tom reached the location Bree had sent, the man was almost done with what he was doing inside.

It was an ordinary supermarket on the side of a busy road, the kind of place people entered for cigarettes, bread, and small daily purchases without looking twice at one another.

Tom parked at the front of supermarket, stepped out, and spotted them from the transparent glass almost immediately.

The man, Marcel was near the front section, buying cigarettes, he was paying the cashier at the moment. Meanwhile, at a few aisles away, Bree was doing a convincing job of looking like any other customer, with the small basket on her arm, her eyes were tracking him without staring too hard. She was ready to move whenever the man moved.

Tom stood by his car and waited until Marcel finished at the counter and pushed out through the automatic doors. That was when he moved.

He walked straight into the man’s path and stopped in front of him, letting the full weight of his presence settle without raising his voice or making a scene. He activated his authority first, then dominance second, immediately.

Marcel saw him and staggered half a step backward.

"Morning." Tom smiled as though they were familiars.

The greeting alone seemed to tangle Marcel’s tongue. He did not answer immediately. His eyes flicked over Tom’s face, then over the emerald suit, then over the calm way Tom stood there like the outcome had already been decided.

"Is your boss back from his trip?" Tom asked. "I’m certain he is." Tom added in the same breath not giving the man the chance to answer the question.

Marcel’s mouth moved before he could stop it. "How did you know...?"

The words were almost to himself, but they were loud enough for Tom to hear. Tom’s smile sharpened slightly as his guess got confirmed.

"You’re going to take me to him. Right away." he said to Marcel.

Marcel’s face tightened. "He’ll kill me." he said in a rush, his eyes rolling with fear.

"Not in my presence," Tom replied simply. Marcel furrowed his brows at that statement. He couldn’t fathom what Tom actually meant by that, was it that he wouldn’t allow his boss to kill him at all or just not in his presence?

"So let’s go." Tom added and opened the backseat door of his car for him.

For a moment, Marcel looked like a man searching for an exit that no longer existed. The authority Tom was radiating was pressing on him and would not leave room for clever refusal. Whatever hierarchy he understood in his own world, the man standing in front of him had seized the higher position in this exchange.

He got into Tom’s car with the reluctant obedience of someone who hated the order and still could not reject it.

Tom turned his head toward Bree, who had stepped out after them and now stood nearby and her attention locked on the scene.

"Go wait for me-" he started but Bree cut in, already closing the distance.

"I can follow and be of help if need be."

Tom considered that for a second. The look on her face didn’t say she was asking to be included for excitement. She was offering utility.

"Okay," he said.

Bree collected the key from him and got into the driver seat while Tom joined Marcel at the backseat.

The journey began after Tom ordered Marcel to give Bree the direction of their destination and Marcel did.

~~~~~~~~~

The drive took them out toward the outskirts of the city and they arrived at an hotel based on Marcel’s directions.

The hotel was half-hidden, the kind of place chosen by men who preferred not to be found through ordinary means. There was no unnecessary attention at the entrance.

Marcel led Tom in. Meanwhile, Bree remained in the car at Tom’s instruction once they arrived, and fixed her eyes on the front of the building.

Inside, the lounge had a quiet atmosphere that served privacy better than welcome. A few tables were occupied by people who did not look eager to be remembered.

At the center of one of them sat the man Tom had come for.

The mafia boss was eating his breakfast calmly, like he had no worry in the world. Two bodyguards stood close enough to intervene, both watching the entrance as Marcel approached.

The boss did not look up from his food. He had seen Marcel from the tinted window.

"Marcel," he called out, his voice coming out flatly, laced with recognition and displeasure. "What have you done? Leading people to my location now?"

Marcel dropped to his knees at the sound of the boss’s voice.

"Please. Kill me, boss." he yelled solemnly.

The two bodyguards moved immediately, seizing him by the arms and pulling him up with roughness.

"You’re a dead meat, already." One of the bodyguards gritted at him.

The sound of the interaction briefly disturbed the quiet lounge, but nobody at the other tables turned too openly. In a place like this, survival often depended on managed blindness.

Tom did not wait for an invitation, neither did he care about the short-lived chaos.

He walked forward with a smooth, energetic confidence, pulled out the chair opposite the boss, and sat down as if the seat had been reserved for him from the beginning. The movement was smooth enough to look simple but bold enough to look offensive.

The boss stopped mid-fork.

Then, slowly, he raised his head, his jaw was already tightening as he wondered who was the man who had the nerve to sit in front of him, uninvited.