The Reluctant Mafia Bride

Episode 10

It was mid-afternoon when the soft jingle of the bell above the door rang out, announcing a new arrival. I glanced up from behind the counter, instinctively offering the kind of friendly smile I reserved for the regulars who trickled in for their afternoon caffeine fix. But this one—this guy—caught my attention in a way I couldn’t quite explain.

He was in his early twenties, maybe around my age, with shaggy brown hair that had that effortless, messy look, like he’d just rolled out of bed and still looked put-together. The kind of guy who probably never had to try too hard to look good. His brown eyes were warm and inviting, the kind that made you feel like you could trust him with anything, completely unlike the cold, stormy grey ones that had been haunting me since last night.

Shaking my head, I forced myself to focus. Stop thinking about him, I scolded myself. Why the hell was I comparing a random guy to him?

The guy stepped up to the counter, his easy grin widening as he looked me over. He had that effortless confidence, like he was used to getting attention without trying too hard. “Hey,” he said with a friendly smile, his voice smooth and easy. “I’ll take a caramel macchiato, please.”

I nodded, quickly entering the order into the register while trying to ignore the way my thoughts kept drifting back to Kirill. It was insane. Comparing anyone to him was ridiculous. But then the guy’s smile tugged at my attention again, his warmth undeniable.

“Coming right up,” I said, trying to sound casual, though my mind was still half caught in the past.

I quickly forced myself to focus, trying to push the lingering thoughts from last night out of my mind as I turned back to Caleb, the cute guy standing in front of me. I handed him his coffee, but before he could take it, his gaze softened, and he gave me a smile that reached his eyes.

“You know,” he began, his voice warm and genuine, “you’re really beautiful.”

The words caught me off guard, a fluttering warmth spreading through my chest as I felt my cheeks heat up. I wasn’t used to this kind of attention, especially not so openly, and it made me momentarily stumble over my words.

“Uh, thanks,” I said, the smile tugging at the corners of my lips despite myself.

Caleb’s grin widened, clearly pleased with my reaction, and he didn’t seem to mind my momentary hesitation.

“I’m Caleb,” he added, extending his hand toward me, his voice carrying a friendly, easy charm. “And you are...?”

I took his hand, noting the warmth of his skin and the gentle strength in his grip. “Dahlia,” I replied, offering a smile of my own. “Nice to meet you.”

He gave my hand a soft, lingering shake before he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if we were sharing a secret. “I like your name,” he said, his tone smooth. “It’s as beautiful as you are.”

I felt my heart skip a beat. Compliments were nothing new, but the way he said it—so effortlessly sincere—left me speechless for a second. I was caught between wanting to thank him and not knowing exactly how to handle the sudden surge of attention.

“I—thanks,” I finally managed, my voice softer than usual. I turned to grab a napkin, anything to distract myself for a moment.

Caleb seemed to sense my uncertainty, but he didn’t let it throw him off. Instead, he chuckled lightly, the sound warm and easy. “I promise I’m not just trying to make you uncomfortable,” he said with a playful smirk. “But, if you’re ever in the mood for some conversation outside of coffee orders… maybe we can grab a drink sometime?”

I ran a hand through my hair, considering his offer. It wasn’t like I was completely uninterested, but something in me told me to take my time.

Caleb hesitated just a beat, as if gathering his courage. “How about you give me your number? I promise I’ll be a gentleman.”

I felt a flutter of hesitation in my chest. It wasn’t that he wasn’t cute or that I didn’t like the attention—it was just that something in me, some instinct, was telling me to be cautious. My fingers grazed my phone in the pocket of my apron as I hesitated. Something about him felt too easy, too perfect.

Caleb noticed my pause and, sensing my hesitation, smiled reassuringly. “You don’t have to. But here,” he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket and holding it out toward me. “Take mine instead. You can text me whenever you want.”

I looked at the phone in his hand for a moment, weighing the options in my mind. I didn’t want to seem rude, and he was being kind enough about it. With a sigh, I pulled my phone out of my apron and unlocked it, ready to input his number.

But then, just as I was about to do that, my phone vibrated with an incoming text, causing me to freeze mid-motion.

Hello, Malyshka.

The word Malyshka sent a shock through me, and I felt my blood run cold. Malyshka. I knew that word. I’d read it a thousand times in the dark romance novels I devoured late at night. It was a Russian term of endearment, one that I had only ever heard from one person: Kirill.

My breath hitched in my throat as panic began to rise. How did he get my number? I hadn’t given it to him. I’d never spoken to him after that night at the warehouse... I hadn’t even seen him since. So how?

My fingers trembled as I held the phone, staring at the text, my mind spiraling into confusion. Could it be some sort of mistake? A wrong number? My heart thudded loudly in my chest, my thoughts running wild.

“Dahlia?” Caleb’s voice pulled me from my spiraling thoughts. He was looking at me with concern now, his brow furrowed. “Are you okay?”

I blinked, suddenly aware of the heat in my cheeks and the cold sweat on my palms. I nodded quickly, forcing a smile. “Yeah, just—just surprised by a text,” I managed to say, shoving the phone back into my pocket. “Sorry about that. It's... nothing.”

Caleb looked at me a moment longer, his expression soft but still questioning. “You sure? You looked like you saw a ghost.”

I let out a shaky breath, nodding again. “I’m fine, really. Just a little distracted, I guess.”

He didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he shrugged it off. “Alright. Well, if you change your mind about that number, you know where to find me.” He gave me a smile that, for a moment, felt real enough to pull me out of the fog that had settled in my brain.

I forced myself to smile back, but as he left the café, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.