The Mafia's Baker

MILANA'S POV :

The mysterious gifts still hadn't stopped. Every morning, something new appeared in front of the bakery: sometimes a bouquet of fresh flowers, sometimes a box of expensive chocolates, other times just a handwritten note—always without a name, always without a clue. At first I found it creepy; now I was mostly curious. Who could possibly know so much about me?

---

"Milana!" Aunt Nina called from the kitchen. "Can you check the delivery outside?"

"I'll get it!" I opened the door and found it waiting: a small wicker basket tied with cream ribbon. Inside were fresh strawberries, homemade jam, and a tiny potted lavender plant, plus another envelope.

I unfolded the note: "I heard lavender symbolizes peace. I hope it brings a little more of it into your busy days."

I smiled before catching myself. "Why am I smiling?"

Aunt Nina peeked over my shoulder. "Because whoever writes those notes knows exactly what to say."

I sighed. "I wish they'd just tell me who they are."

---

DMITRI'S POV :

"Boss," Seb looked at me with clear amusement. "She smiled."

I looked up from my reports. "She did?"

"A little."

A faint smile appeared on my own face before I noticed. Seb caught it right away. "There it is again."

"What?"

"That smile. You've been smiling a lot lately."

I looked away. "Have I?"

He nodded. "I've worked for you eight years. I've seen you smile maybe three times—and two of those were when Alexei accidentally called one of the bodyguards 'Grandpa.'"

I let out a quiet chuckle.

Seb grinned. "There—that's four."

---

MILANA'S POV :

Around lunchtime the bakery filled up. I was arranging pastries when the bell rang. "Welcome!" I looked up. "Dmitri."

He gave a small nod. "Good afternoon."

"You've been coming here quite a lot lately."

He glanced at the bread shelves. "I like the bread."

I crossed my arms playfully. "You've bought five loaves this week. Do you even eat that much?"

There was a short pause. "I freeze them."

I blinked. "That's actually a pretty good excuse."

He looked almost pleased—like he'd practiced that answer.

Suddenly Alexei burst through the door. "Cake Lady!"

I laughed. "There you are." He ran straight into my arms. "I brought you something!"

He handed me a drawing. Three stick figures: Alexei, me, and Dmitri—all holding hands. I nearly laughed out loud. "Alexei... what is this?"

He smiled innocently. "Our family picture."

The whole shop went quiet. I looked slowly toward Dmitri. He had a hand over his mouth, clearly fighting hard not to laugh. Even Aunt Nina turned away to hide her smile.

Alexei tilted his head. "What?"

I knelt gently in front of him. "I'm not your uncle's wife."

"...Yet."

Dmitri spoke before he could stop himself. The silence that followed felt huge. His eyes went wide as he realized what he'd said. I stared at him. "What?"

For the first time ever, the feared mafia boss looked genuinely flustered. "I..." He cleared his throat. "That came out wrong."

Alexei gasped loudly. "UNCLE WANTS TO MARRY CAKE LADY!"

Customers burst into laughter. My cheeks burned bright red. "Dmitri..."

He closed his eyes briefly. "I apologize."

I couldn't stop laughing. "It's... it's alright."

He had probably never been that embarrassed in his whole life.

---

DMITRI'S POV :

Perfect. Just perfect. I'd negotiated with dangerous criminals, faced armed enemies, survived assassination attempts—and a six-year-old had completely defeated me.

Seb walked in just in time to see it all. His shoulders shook as he tried not to laugh.

"Don't," I warned quietly.

"Yes, Boss."

Five seconds later he couldn't hold it anymore. Laughter filled the bakery—and even I couldn't help smiling.

---

MILANA'S POV :

Once things settled down, I packed Dmitri's order. As I handed him the bag, our fingers brushed for just a moment. I pulled my hand back quickly. "Sorry."

"No," he said softly. "It was my fault."

Somehow neither of us looked away right away. The moment lasted longer than it should have—until a sharp female voice cut through.

"Well... isn't this adorable?"

Everyone turned to the entrance. A woman in a striking red dress and designer heels stood there: elegant, beautiful, and clearly furious. Her sharp eyes swept over me before meeting Dmitri's.

"So this is where you've been spending your mornings."

Dmitri's expression turned instantly cold. "Victoria."

She walked toward us with a tight smile. "I've been looking everywhere for you." Then she looked me up and down, taking in my flour-dusted apron, simple clothes, and worn sneakers. A mocking smile curved her lips.

"So... you're just a bakery employee."

The warm, easy feeling in the shop vanished in an instant.