The "Heart of Sweets" shop was barely open, the morning light struggling to illuminate the delicate displays. Levis was preoccupied, haunted by Madam Martha's warning. He dragged the small cash drawer out and pulled the heavy Stuar signet ring from beneath the bills. He stared at the fiercely carved tiger emblem—the stark symbol of the violence he had witnessed, and the man who had claimed him.
"Hello, boss! Why are you so zoned out?" Stofia asked, wiping down the counter.
"Ah, nothing," Levis muttered, quickly shoving the ring back.
"Is it about Bright?" Stofia pressed. "Look, I think it's too late. You need to tell him you don't love him the way he loves you."
"Stofia, how can he say that to Bright's face?" Aunt Nora scolded gently from the back. "Bright has dreamed of a lifelong future with Levis since childhood. Levis knows this. How can he destroy that hope?"
"But that's the problem!" Stofia insisted, throwing her hands up. "Ten years ago he purposed Levis, for a promise was made by their mothers fifteen years ago. Since then, has Bright ever asked Levis what he wants from this relationship? They're supposed to be partners getting married, right? But Levis hasn't even shared a simple kiss with him, let alone anything intimate! How can he hold onto this hope for marriage?"
"If you have these questions, go ask Bright, not Levis," Nora retorted, sighing deeply. "Levis is literally consumed by living up to everyone else's expectations. He has never fought for anything for himself."
Stofia sighed, the argument hanging heavy in the sweet air.
Suddenly, the sharp sound of running feet outside startled them. Levis, fueled by a nervous premonition, moved instinctively toward the glass door. "Let me see who that is."
He pulled the door inward—and instantly crashed headlong into a massive, elegant figure in a ruined suit. Both men fell hard, scattering small display boxes.
"Oh! Sorry! So sorry!" Robert gasped, struggling to rise, his breath ragged and heavy from his desperate flight.
He looked down, his eyes widening in recognition. The target of his frantic search was lying at his feet. He extended a hand to help Levis up—the same hand that bore the Stuar ring.
Levis stared up at the imposing figure: the aura of pure, elegant menace was unmistakable. Robert Stuar. Levis scrambled to his feet without taking Robert's hand, immediately backed up, his body tensing in defense.
Nora and Stofia rushed forward, grabbing Levis and pulling him protectively behind them, their faces pale with fear.
"Are you here because of this ring, Mr. Stuar?" Levis demanded, stepping slightly forward. "Let me give you—"
Before Levis could continue, a terrifying shadow fell over the front window. Five rough-looking attackers, remnants of the earlier ambush, slammed against the doorframe, trying to force their way in.
One of them grabbed a heavy clay vase from the small display near the entrance, raising it threateningly near the delicate Italian glass door.
"Hey! Hey! What are you doing?!" Levis shouted, his focus snapping instantly from Robert to the threat against his shop.
"Levis, don't go near them! They will hurt you!" Nora cried out, terrified.
"I don't care about myself!" Levis fired back, his voice tight with rage. "I invested so much money in that vase! And you dare try to destroy my Italian glass door? Do you know how much that cost? How many days of work that represents?!"
One of the attackers lowered the vase slightly. "If we don't destroy anything from this pathetic shop, then leave the Prince now!" he ordered.
"Fine, okay!" Levis yelled, pivoting instantly to Robert. "Hey, Mr. Stuar! Get out of my shop! Now!"
Robert, however, ignored the frantic order. He calmly walked over to the shop's stool behind the counter and sat down, leaning against the cash register. "If you want to save this shop," Robert said, his voice dangerously calm, "then you will have to fight."
The attacker at the door lunged. Levis, fueled by rage for his property, spun and delivered a shattering roundhouse kick to the man's ribs. The attacker flew back, collapsing with a sickening cough, spitting blood onto the clean sidewalk.
"See, Mom! He's fine! They're the ones who'll get hurt!" Stofia cried out, stunned but proud.
The remaining four charged Levis. He fought fiercely, but the numbers were too great. A blow landed on his back, sending him staggering to the floor.
Stofia screamed and reached for a kitchen knife. Before she could throw it, the space was rocked by FOUR DEAFENING GUNSHOTS.
It wasn't a warning.
Robert Stuar stood behind the counter, a pistol smoking in his hand. The four men who were attacking Levis lay still, blood staining the polished floor and mixing with the colorful packaging of the sweets. Robert had executed them instantly.
"How dare you all, you sons of who*es, try to attack my man in front of me?!" Robert roared, his voice thick with raw, dangerous fury.
The roar of powerful engines arrived as over thirty bodyguards and armored cars screeched to a halt outside. Steven rushed in, his face etched with genuine panic.
"So... so sorry, Prince! We were delayed! We couldn't get here faster!" Steven pleaded, bowing low.
Robert stalked toward his manager. In a blinding flash of fury, he delivered a massive, resonant slap across Steven's face.
The sound echoed in the shop, and every single bodyguard immediately dropped to their knees, bowing their heads in fearful submission.
Nora and Stofia ran to Levis, pulling him away from the dead bodies, their own faces pale with trauma.
Robert's voice was venomous, shaking the walls. "Do you all have single idea what would happen if my father knew what occurred today?! Would he spare any of you?!"
He turned his wrath on his cowering men. "If my mother knew that all you useless bodyguards and managers took thirty minutes to protect her son, forcing me to use my own weapon to survive, she would execute every single one of you! Why do I need you all if I survive myself? Are you just here to accompany me on walks? I have dogs in the mansion for company!"
Levis watched, trembling. This was the true face of the mafia family—ruthless, terrifying, and utterly merciless.
"Prince! Extremely sorry! Please, spare us! We will give our lives next time!" Steven and the bodyguards begged, their heads bowed low.
Robert dismissed them with a harsh wave and slowly turned toward Levis, consciously forcing the rage from his expression. He tried to calm his breathing, his eyes softening as they landed on the baker.
"Ah... Levis Heart," Robert said, his voice dropping to a seductive purr.
Levis could only nod, his fear palpable.
"I'm going to call you My Heart," Robert declared, no longer asking, but stating. "Are you alright with that?"
Levis's instinct was to shake his head violently in refusal, but the overwhelming fear of the man who had just shot up his shop made him stop. He forced his head into a reluctant, small nod. "O-okay."
Robert reached out his hand, intending to offer comfort. "Hey, don't be afraid."
Levis flinched violently, shrinking back from the touch.
Suddenly, a voice cut through the chaos—sharp, authoritative, and demanding:
"What is happening here?!"
Everyone turned. Standing in the infront them, his suit immaculate and his professional authority radiating, was Bright Aro, Deputy Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.