Chapter 11 - The Ghost of Bellamy’s PastThe afternoon sun cast long, amber rays across the polished wooden floors of the newly renovated Bellamy’s Cafe. Five years had turned the once-cramped corner diner into a high-end artisanal bakery and coffee house, but the layout remained identical.
Sophie sat at the exact corner table where Matteo had first watched her, her fingers lightly brushing over the smooth wood.
Leo, now five years old, was busy chatting with the barista about chocolate muffins, completely oblivious to the legendary reputation of the man who stood quietly guard by the door.
Matteo’s sharp gaze swept the room, not out of paranoia, but from the hardwired instinct of a man who had conquered an empire. His dark suit was tailored to perfection, and his broad shoulders commanded the space effortlessly.
"You're doing it again," Sophie said softly, a gentle smile playing on her lips.
"Doing what?" Matteo asked, walking over and sliding into the booth opposite her, his eyes softening the instant they locked onto hers.
"Surveying the exits, counting the civilians, looking for threats that haven't existed in years," she teased, reaching across the table to straighten his tie.
Matteo caught her hand, pressing a warm kiss into her palm. "An empire can fall in a second if a king blinks, Sophie. But you... you are the only exception to my rules."
Before Sophie could reply, the bell above the cafe door chimed.
A shadow fell across their table.
Sophie’s breath hitched. For a fraction of a second, the phantom smell of cheap cologne and rising panic threatened to pull her backward through time. A tall, gaunt figure stood near the entrance, wearing a faded coat that looked ten sizes too big, his hair unkempt and his eyes hollowed out by years of ruin.
It was Kyle Mercer.
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He hadn't fled to wealth down south; he had spiraled into the gutters of forgotten towns, eventually creeping back to Boston like a ghost haunting a graveyard.
Kyle’s bloodshot eyes scanned the room, finally locking onto Sophie. And then, terrifyingly, onto Matteo.
