Chapter 18 — Worse Than the Devil
Marcus Diego’s fingers drummed on the polished surface of the closed café counter.
He had been here before sunrise, watching the world wake while shadows clung to the corners of the quiet lounge. Everything in this place—down to the copper kettle behind the bar and the hand-painted teacups in the display—was chosen with her in mind.
Serena Vale.
He had bought the café for her, down to the deed signed in her name. She had always wanted to work in a place like this. Back then, she used to smile while talking about steamed milk and pastries, unaware that life was preparing to break her instead.
The closed sign hung in the front window, but the lights were dimmed low, just enough to make it feel intimate. Almost safe.
Contemplating whether to call her or
