Chapter 10 - Protecting Mila: The Mafia King’s Vow in the Little Bakery
Thirty minutes later, the black Mercedes-Maybach pulled up outside The Golden Crust Bakery in a quiet, working-class neighborhood five miles away.
The shop was dark except for the warm yellow light glowing in the back prep kitchen.
Through the window, Mila could be seen wearing a flour-dusted white apron, carefully placing trays of fresh brioche into the cooling racks. She was humming to herself, completely oblivious to the storm outside or the danger that had hovered over her sister.
Nadia rushed out of the car and pushed open the bakery door, the brass bell ringing above.
Mila turned around, her face instantly lighting up with pure joy.
“Nadia!” Mila signed rapidly with flour-dusted fingers, smiling brightly. “You’re late! Look, I made the cinnamon rolls just like mom used to—”
Mila stopped.
She saw Nadia’s short, cut hair. She saw the oversized men’s coat wrapped around her. She saw the tear stains on her cheeks.
Mila dropped the baking tray, the metal clattering onto the prep table, and rushed forward to throw her arms around Nadia’s neck.
Mila signed frantically: “What happened? Who hurt you? Why did you cut your hair?”
Nadia held her sister tightly, burying her face in Mila’s neck, the comforting smell of warm yeast and sugar washing away the horrors of the Hawthorne manor.
“I’m okay,” Nadia signed with one shaking hand. “We’re safe now. Everything is over.”
The front door opened again.
Dragan Kovac stepped inside the small, modest bakery. His massive frame filled the doorway, his sharp gray eyes taking in the humble shop, the sacks of flour, the simple wooden stools.
Mila looked up, gasping slightly at the imposing stranger. She stepped instinctively in front of Nadia, her protective instincts taking over despite her small size.
Dragan stopped five paces away.
Slowly, deliberately, Dragan raised his large, scarred hands.
With fluid, precise movements, Dragan began to speak in sign language:
“Do not be afraid, Mila. Nobody will ever hurt your sister again. I give you my word as Kovac.”
Mila’s jaw dropped.
Nadia stared at him in complete shock. “You... you know sign language?”
Dragan lowered his hands, looking at Nadia with a quiet depth that took her breath away.
“My younger brother was deaf before he died in the old country,” Dragan said softly. “I spent my youth speaking with my hands. I know the courage it takes to live in a world that refuses to listen to you.”
Dragan gestured toward the door.
May you like
“Pack your things from your apartment,” Dragan said. “You both move into my estate on the North Shore tonight. Clarissa’s associates will be looking for leverage once the indictments drop. You will be safe under my roof.”
Mila looked at Nadia, then looked at Dragan, and for the first time that night, she offered a small, shy, but deeply genuine smile.
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