As Amara continued to comfort Rosie, a man in his fifties observed them from a distance. He was the leader of one of the local gangs, known for his imposing presence and his penchant for asserting dominance over others. His gaze lingered on Amara, intrigued by her fierce demeanor and unyielding confidence.
With a calculated swagger, he approached their table, his eyes fixed on Amara. "Well, well, what do we have here?" he murmured, his voice carrying an air of authority.
Amara glanced up, her guard immediately rising as she took in the man's imposing figure. She tensed, instinctively wary of his intentions. "Can I help you?" she asked, her tone guarded.
The gang leader ignored her question, instead choosing to address Rosie. "Is this your friend?" he asked, his gaze flickering between t
