The wind outside Miranda's shop carried dust and the stench of old liquor. The lamps inside were already dimmed, chairs stacked, tables wiped clean. She stood behind the counter, arms folded, her eyes red with exhaustion. When the bell above the door chimed, her heart skipped a beat because she had already turned the sign to Closed.
"We are closed for today," Miranda said flatly, her voice hoarse, carrying a hint of fear. "You can see… no customers, so go away."
But the man who stepped inside was not just anyone. His figure cast a heavy shadow, tall, broad, his eyes gleaming with a merciless glint, who else do you think? It Matteo Del Piero.
"Not so fast, Miranda." His tone was sharp, deliberate, dragging her name as if savoring the taste of hatred. A leather bag hung loosely from his hand as he dropped it onto the counter with a dull thud that echoed like a curse. "I have a gift for you."
"I don't want any gift from a Del Pieros!"
"Really? won't you at lease check it?"
