Robert Stuar stood in his bedroom, overlooking the cityscape, the morning sunlight glinting without the gold Stuar ring on his finger. Steven was delivering the intelligence report.
"His name is Levis Heart," Steven confirmed, clicking a file closed. "Twenty-three years old. His profile is complex, Prince."
"Levis Heart," Robert repeated, testing the name on his tongue. He allowed himself a brief, rare smile. "Ah, the one who stole my heart."
Steven continued professionally: "He is a national Black Belt in Karate. Highly disciplined. His primary goal was becoming the Assistant Deputy Director of the FBI. He made it to the final stages, but due to deep political interference, he was sidelined. The position was taken by his childhood friend, Bright Aro, whose father used connections to secure the role for his son."
Robert leaned back, the details solidifying Levis's character: talent derailed by corruption, replaced by a rival. A common narrative in this world.
"What about his current business? And his relationships?" Robert asked, his voice low.
"The relationship aspect is difficult to confirm," Steven admitted. "He has never been in any documented relationship—neither with men nor women. He is extremely private. As for work, he owns a confectionery shop, 'Heart of Sweets.' He started the business only a year ago, operating with his Aunt Nora and his friend, Stofia."
"Why did a highly educated, top-tier FBI candidate pivot to baking?" Robert pressed.
Steven opened the financial file. "His father died when Levis was a baby. He and his mother, Stella, lived off their small inherited business for seven years. When Stella became paralyzed fifteen years ago, they survived on the sale of that business and their home. That money funded Levis's education."
Steven paused, his tone reflecting genuine respect. "When Levis failed to secure the FBI job, the money was gone. His mother's best friend, Aunt Nora, a kind widow, took them in. Levis sold their last property and used that capital to build a small shop within Nora's house. In less than a year, 'Heart of Sweets' became highly successful. It's now popular enough that he provides high-end catering services for major events, like the wedding yesterday."
"An astonishing personal deal," Robert murmured, deeply impressed by Levis's resilience and loyalty. "He built a thriving enterprise from nothing while caring for his mother. All at twenty-three."
Robert looked up sharply. "Did you get all this information from Madam Martha, the bride's mother?"
Steven shook his head. "No, Sir. Madam Martha was fiercely protective of Levis. She would only confirm basic professional details and refused to provide his home address or personal information. I had to use alternative methods to compile this full profile. I did everything I could, but I still lack his current residential address."
Robert stood, satisfaction warming his chest. "You've done excellently, Steven. Now, get me the address. I want it before sunset."
"It will be done, Prince," Steven assured him.
Meanwhile, the "Heart of Sweets" shop was buzzing with frantic morning energy. Levis emerged from the kitchen, flour dusting his blue apron.
"It's already late! I need to open the shop in two minutes!" Levis muttered, adjusting the sleeves of his shirt, still feeling the lingering stiffness from the previous day's fight.
"Boss, we're ready to serve!" Stofia called cheerfully from behind the counter.
Aunt Nora, who knew the full gravity of the situation, rolled her eyes at her daughter. "Levis, open the sign, it's already past time!"
"Yeah, yeah." Levis moved toward the front door, but the sudden ring of the shop phone stopped him.
Nora answered warily. "Hello, 'Heart of Sweets' confectionery speaking."
"I need to speak with Levis Heart," a sharp, feminine voice demanded.
"Oh, Madam Martha!" Nora passed the phone to Levis. "Levis, take this. I'll flip the sign."
Levis took the receiver, his voice professional. "Yes, ma'am?"
"Did Prince Robert Stuar come to your shop or your house yet?" Madam Martha's voice was strained.
Levis's breath hitched. Prince Robert Stuar. "Isn't he the Mafia guy?". "Oh, who is that, ma'am?" he asked, feigning ignorance.
"Yesterday, Levis, I told you not to interfere! And you did! Now, they have called me to demand information on you!" Martha scolded, then lowered her voice. "But even though I know you personally, I never disclosed anything personal, Levis. Only professional details."
"Thank you, ma'am. That means a great deal," Levis said, relief flooding him.
"But listen to me, my son. He is too influential. His father is the King, the Godfather of the underworld Mafia. They will already know every piece of information about you, or they will get it soon. Please, be safe."
The line went dead. The morning's cheer evaporated, leaving Levis consumed by dread. The mafia had officially started their pursuit.
Across the city, Robert arrived at the offices of a partner company for a highly anticipated, high-value meeting. The building was a modern monolith of steel and glass. CEOs and Managing Directors waited respectfully outside to greet the powerful Stuar scion.
Robert's convoy of luxury cars, followed by his phalanx of bodyguards, pulled to the curb. As Robert stepped out, looking every bit the ruthless, handsome mogul, chatter erupted among the staff.
"OMG, look at him! He's drop-dead gorgeous!" one female staff member whispered. "His girlfriend is so lucky!"
"Girlfriend? No, I heard he's gay. It's a boyfriend who's lucky," another corrected.
The company MD silenced the gossips with a lethal glare. Robert simply smiled, accepting the greetings of the assembled executives.
He took his first step toward the building entrance—
A series of chain-reaction detonations rocked the street. The cars in Robert's convoy instantly burst into fire and smoke. It was a massive, perfectly coordinated bombing.
Gunshots followed, ripping through the screams of the executives. The entire security force immediately focused on protecting Robert. Dozens of shadowy figures—more aggressive, less organized than the group at the wedding—swarmed the perimeter.
"Sir, we need to abandon the car! It's out of control! We have to run!" Steven yelled, shoving Robert toward the nearest exit point.
The bodyguards formed a tight, fighting perimeter to buy them time. Steven and Robert sprinted away from the wreckage. Five attackers broke free and pursued them relentlessly. Steven paused, turning to face the pursuers to intercept them.
"Prince! Run towards the middle city! Keep going!" Steven screamed.
Robert, running purely on adrenaline, obeyed. He fled the organized chaos, the explosions and gunfire fading into the roar of the city traffic. He ran through side streets, across plazas, and down back alleys, his lungs burning, the heavy breathing echoing in his ears.
He didn't slow down until he was deep inside a bustling, pedestrian area—a safe haven of shops and cafes. Completely exhausted, fueled by panic, he didn't see where he was going.
He stumbled, hurtling through an open glass door, and dashed straight into a figure standing just inside.
They collided with brutal force. Both of them went down, crashing to the floor amidst the smell of sugar and fresh pastry.
Robert scrambled up, leaning against a counter, his breaths coming in ragged, painful gasps.
"Oh! Sorry! So sorry!" Robert gasped out, trying to stabilize himself.
He looked down at the person he had violently tackled.
Lying on the floor, surrounded by his own brightly colored pastries, was Levis Heart.