Days had passed and the three men had been helping you a lot since then. You had grown a lot closer to those three over time. You came to love hearing Kyle and Soap arguing, and Ghost's poor attempts at making jokes in the worst kind of moment always crackled you. You warmed up to them and loved their company while you worked around the bakery, the whole atmosphere was brighter and it turned the hard work into something more pleasant, something you looked up to each day.

However, you were alone today. It surprised you as neither of them had warned you but they were not obliged to come after all, they were doing it for free. You offered to pay them for the service but they kept refusing, insisting on being the culinary critics of your pastries instead. You eventually gave up on offering something more and baked for them every day instead. Today, you brought fresh croissants for the morning and made homemade iced tea to survive the heat, but there were not here.

"What am I going to do with all that...?" You wondered as you stared down at the basket filled with croissants and the glass bottle of iced tea. You heaved a sigh and headed to the kitchen where you put them away. The floors and walls were down now, and the old furniture had been sent to the thrash. All that was left was buying the new furniture and bringing everything in. That would conclude the hardest part of the job and all that would be left would be preparing a menu and finishing the administration part so you could officially open - hopefully in a month. You still had to figure out what you would do with the attic. The basement would, for now, be used as storage, but the attic was still a mystery... You thought about making it a break room for your future employees. There was so much to think about, it was draining you.

A bell at the front door caught your attention. Thinking it was your favorite boys, you hurried excitedly back into the shop with a large smile but you were not met with the Scottish gremlin, the awful comedian, or the wheezing kettle. It was another familiar man. One who you had not seen in a month. One who scared you to death the last time you met. The boss of your three little helpers.

You felt an uncomfortable feeling building in your stomach as you studied his appearance. The man was wearing a white shirt and navy blue pants with black shoes. Everything he was wearing seemed to cost more than your whole life would ever be worth, down from his watch to his socks. The only item that was off-setting was his bucket hat. You wondered how a man so charismatic and well-dressed wore something so outrageous as that hat.

"So that's your bakery? It's moving in smoothly," he exclaimed, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You could feel the tension in the air the moment he entered, a shiver running down your spine as you remembered the terror of that night. You swallowed nervously and took a step back, his natural charisma was enough to shake your bones. His blue eyes scanned the area before they landed back on you.

"Remember me? I don't think I ever properly introduced myself. I'm John Price. It's nice to meet you properly." The man introduced himself as he extended a hand to shake yours.

You stared down at it, your quivering lips tightly pressed together so he could not see the effect he had on you but little did you know how observant and sharp that man was. Your eyes flicked back up to meet his while you crossed your arms over your chest. You refused to approach that dangerous man. "Cut the bullshit act. You're here for a reason so spill it out. The big boss wouldn't come here just for introduction."

A sigh left his lips and he readjusted his bucket hat. He wetted his lips, passing his tongue over them before he continued speaking. "You don't waste time, do you? I was just being a gentleman."

You cut him off with an annoyed grunt and a roll of your eyes. "I said cut the crap," you accentuated your words to show you had little patience.

He paused. His lips pursed as his eyes seemed to study you. He was impressed, to say the least. Barely anyone ever stood up to him because they were too scared. Jonathan Price had zero tolerance for impudence but you were not in the same world as he was, so he spared you. "I have an offer to make you," he stated, catching your attention. "I want you to take my men as your workers."

You froze. Completely. Did he say what you think he did? Your eyes were round, your mouth agape, and your hands still underneath your crossed arms. It almost seemed like you stopped breathing. "What..?" You said in disbelief, not sure you heard him right.

"I said-"

"No, no. I heard you fine," you cut him off again, which seemed to annoy him, but he kept it hidden underneath his stoic expression despite the furrowed brows. "Why would I do that? I'm looking for normal people with experience not... whatever it is you're doing!"

"They are more than qualified and they adapt very quickly to new environments. Gaz, Soap, and Ghost are already well acquainted with you so I don't see the problem in adding them. You don't have to pay them, you can keep the money, I'll take care of it," he further explained. He made it sound like it was the most normal thing to do.

"Wait a fucking minute!" You almost shouted while throwing your arms in the air. "Sure those three have been helping me a lot but can they even tend a bakery or cafe? I'm starting a serious business, I'm not going to take just anyone!" You paused to look at him and as he opened his mouth to speak, you cut him off, again. "Besides, I'm not going to make them work for free, you're crazy! I'll have problems with the law!"

Price tried to keep his calm as he listened to you babbling nonsense. "Sure, you can pay them or whatever, but I assure you they can do the job and pick up the basics pretty easily. They have a lot of job experience." He took out documents he had prepared in advance and handed them to you. You took them and looked over the first page. They were résumé. "Ghost can pretty much do anything but I would advise you to avoid him interacting with your clients, he'll scare them off as he doesn't express himself well. The best job he could do could be taking charge of deliveries, cleaning, or anything that doesn't involve people.

"Soap is pretty much reliable, depending on what you're asking him to do. He's a chatterbox and gets along well with people so a waiter or in charge of taking orders would be the best job you can give him. Avoid involving him in the kitchen. He often gets really excited around a fire, and he can't bake and barely cook.

"Gaz is a smart one. You know him well I'm sure. He's the best you can have so any post would do, he adapts quickly. He speaks very well and I'm sure you'll want him to interact with clients just so he can assure they would come back."

You integrated the information he was giving you while looking through their résumé. You were taken aback by the number of jobs they all did. Bartender, bodyguard, tech support, journalist... The list went on and on. You started to think they had to learn all this as a cover-up.

"Wait..." You stopped him with your hand and finally looked up at him. "Why do you need to have them work here? I know there has to be a reason and," you paused, choosing your words wisely, "I don't want to know the specifics because this is known of my business but can you guarantee my security and the proper operation of this bakery? Those are my only requirements for accepting you weirdos here."

Price passed his tongue over his front teeth as he nodded. "Of course. As long as we're all here, your security is guaranteed. We only need a.. cover, if you will. You have nothing to risk and you will never be involved in our business. I can guarantee that." There was no shakiness in his voice, no hesitation in his eyes, and he kept eye contact the whole time. He was most likely at the head of a criminal organization but you could tell he was sincere. "If something wrong was to happen, we will cover for you. You won't be put at risk." Your life was on the line, dangling dangerously close to the edge. At any moment, you could trip and fall to your death, but this man, this charismatic scary man, was the one holding your hand to prevent that fall or give you the final push. It was 50/50, a life-threatening deal, and yet you believed him. Whether you should have or not would be answered in the future but his proposition was tempting. "Plus, I have enough funds to support your business."

"I'm in." You no longer hesitated. What? Who wouldn't want a rich man behind your starting business to secure the first few months if not a year? No one would refuse this, right? This earned you a low chuckle from the man, the sound reverberated in his chest and you found it strangely attractive. The muscles in his face seemed more relaxed and his eyes became softer as he looked at you as a smile forced its way on his face despite how hard he was fighting it.

"Alright, you got yourself a deal. I am now your landlord and the co-owner of the business, only for the investing part." It would put a good deed under his name. Maybe the police would stop bothering him for a bit. "I have the contract here for you to sign."

"Yes- Wait! Landlord?!" It wasn't supposed to be him, it should have been the nice lady. You were not notified of this change.

"Yes, that's me. I bought the property about a week ago. You should have been notified," he explained as he pointed to the mountain of letters resting in a corner of the room.

"Oh, shit..." You cursed under your breath as you watched the mail you had yet to read and study. "That one is on me... Are you sure you're not spying on me though? Why buy this poor property?"

"Helping a small business? It gives a nice image," he added and his lips curled up into a smug grin. You held back the heavy sigh and the roll of your eyes. Never mind that gentlemanly, charismatic look he had, he looked like a selfish asshole. You wanted to smack that grin off of his face. "Anyway, you've got two more applications to look at."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. You had not realized you had not looked at everything. Your eyes landed back on the stack of papers and you pulled out the last two applications. "König and... Roach? What the hell are those names?" You frowned as you read through the documents. They did not seem to have the same experiences as the other three.

He ignored your question and went through their résumé with you again. "Roach can work as a barista if you plan on making drinks at least. He is used to working at a bar and he had worked in a café before. But he's mostly mute." You shot your head back up at him. Mute? How could he work in a job based on communication if he was mute? The more he talked, the more questions you had. He did not let you ask whatever was on your mind and continued talking. "As for König, he can help with baking. People interaction is not recommended. He has severe social anxiety and ADHD problems." Social anxiety in a job based on communication?! What kind of people was he giving you?

"Okay so... How could that work properly? A mute guy and a social anxiety one? How can I trust they're going to work well in a team?" You agreed with the previous choices but now you were hesitating. You were all for giving everyone a chance in a job despite their handicaps or disabilities, but you were a very new business, it would be a struggle to welcome them when you were not sure how to manage everything yet.

He shifted his weight from one hip to the other and gave you a nod. He seemed to have expected this question. "That's why I brought them with me. König, Roach, come in." He called while he tilted his face in the direction of the door.

The sound of the bell rang again as the door slid open. Your jaw dropped. You craned your neck up to face the literal mountain in front of you. You found Ghost tall but this one... this one was a literal giant, making Ghost seem normal-sized next to him. He had a hood with red stripes under the holes for his eyes, hiding his entire face that dropped on his tensed shoulders. His icy blue eyes were glued to the ground, searching for anything to distract him. He was wearing a blank black long-sleeved shirt that hugged his muscular body and his hands were hidden under black gloves. His cargo pants were tugged in his black boots. His entire body was covered, mostly in black, and you wondered how he was surviving the summer.

Your attention was brought to the other next to him who was wearing a cap with long antennae, which hid his blonde fluffy hair. He was wearing a face mask and black framed glasses which hid his noisette eyes. When your eyes traveled down to his nose, you noticed a burn scar that went down to his neck and his left arm. His light white beige tank top left you to see the multiple scars that littered his body. You wondered how he got them, especially the burned one as it seemed to cover part of his face and most of his left arm. He also wore black sweatpants with sneakers, complimenting his casual look.

The two men looked completely different. On one hand, König, despite his scary appearance, looked nervous, his eyes unable to look at you, while Roach had no difficulty keeping eye contact with a large smile as he waved. How many strange specimens this group held? You wished to know...

"This is König," Price broke the silence and pointed to the tall man. The latter almost jumped as he heard his name. His eyes finally landed on you and he gave a quick nod before he nervously stared into the void again. "And this is Roach." He pointed to the other one who greeted you through sign language.

You never learned sign language sadly. You picked up a few things and remembered how to say hello but you only knew a bit of American sign language, not British. "Um... Hello. I don't know BSL well so you'll have to excuse me."

He shook his head with a smile and made an okay sign with his fingers. He was probably used to this. You let out a sigh of relief and offered a smile back. "Is your kitchen up n running?" The boss asked as he fetched something in his pocket.

"Kind of... I haven't received all my equipment yet but the fridge, the oven, and the blender work fine."

The well-dressed man open a small box and took out a cigar from it. "That'll do. They'll show you what they can do. Consider it a job interview." He looked back at his two men while he cut the cap of the cigar that fell on the ground. One of your eyes twitched as he did not seem to be picking it up. Instead, he put his box back into his navy blue pants pocket and fetched his lighter from his back pocket. The object was engraved with some sort of logo. You swore you saw the same on the three men's bodies... They all seemed to have tattoos of this mark... You wondered what it meant and you sure wished you could invest it further. Price lifted his hand and placed the cigar between his rough dry lips and used the other one to light it.

But you stopped him by taking hold of his wrist. "This is a non-smoking area. You can't smoke here-" You barely had time to finish your sentence before you were shoved to the ground, a giant body pinning you to the ground. A hand found your throat and pressure was put, slowly cutting all air coming to your lungs. You tried to wiggle your way out of the strong grip but the strength this König guy had was unhuman-like. Your knees hit his back as it was the only area you could reach when he was sitting on top of you, yet, that did not even make him move. Your cries were caught in your throat as you tried to call for help. You had never felt that powerless ever since the day they kidnapped you. It served as a reminder of just how dangerous those people were.

"König. That's enough." The authoritative voice of John Price filled the room. In an instant, the hand around your throat unwrapped and the man stood up.

Immediately, you sat up and coughed violently and painfully whilst you held your throat. It would leave awful red marks the next day from how tight the man had been holding you. You heard steps slowly coming towards you but you did not have the strength to look up at whoever it was.

"Sorry about that. He was just protecting me," the British man explained as you heard him exhale something, most likely the smoke from his cigar. "I said we would protect you and we would. However," his voice dropped as he took a knee down to be at the same level as you. His rough gloved hand lifted your chin so you would look at him. You forced your teary eyes open, a single drop slid down your cheek, and you looked back into his darkened eyes. "You betray or even attempt in attacking us and I won't hesitate to give the order to get rid of you."

There was no doubt now. They were part of a mafia group. You pieced things together from the kidnapping, the secrecy, the tattoo, the logo, and the threats, you had ended up in a big mess.