Tae stood by the counter, watching as Ariana expertly mixed a bowl of dough, her movements swift and precise. The smell of sugar and spices filled the air, a reminder of the cozy bakery they were working to restore. Though Tae didn’t have much experience in the kitchen, he had eagerly volunteered to help her out—if not with the baking itself, then at least with the heavy lifting, setting up equipment, and anything else she needed.

Ariana glanced at him from the corner of her eye, a small smile tugging at her lips as she noticed how intently he was watching her. "You know, you don’t have to stand there like a bodyguard," she teased lightly, her voice soft but carrying a hint of amusement.

Tae chuckled, leaning against the counter as he crossed his arms. "Hey, I’m here for moral support and to lift heavy things. Besides, someone’s gotta keep an eye on you."

She shook her head with a smile, turning her attention back to the dough. "I appreciate the help. It’s been a while since I’ve had anyone in the kitchen with me."

Tae watched her in silence for a moment, noticing the way her hands moved rhythmically as she worked. There was something calming about watching her bake, as if she was completely in her element here. Despite everything she’d been through, she seemed at peace in this space—focused, strong, and determined to rebuild her life.

He had gotten to know Ariana better over the past few days, and though she was quieter and more reserved than her sister Isabella, there was a quiet strength about her that Tae found himself drawn to. He admired the way she was able to find solace in something as simple as baking, especially after the horrors she had endured.

As Ariana worked, Tae busied himself with cleaning the counters and organizing some supplies, occasionally stealing glances at her. He wanted to ask her more about her past, about what had happened to her during those dark months with the Italians, but he didn’t want to push her. He knew that whatever she had been through was painful, and it wasn’t something she could easily talk about.

Still, the curiosity gnawed at him. He wanted to understand what had happened, to know more about the scars she carried—both visible and invisible. But more than that, he wanted to find a way to help her heal, if he could.

"So," Tae began cautiously, keeping his tone light as he spoke. "I know Isabella’s... well, she’s kind of the mafia queen. But you’re different. You’ve never really been involved in that world, have you?"

Ariana paused for a moment, her hands stilling as she looked up at him. There was a flicker of something in her eyes—pain, perhaps, or maybe just a deep weariness—but she quickly masked it with a small smile.

"No, I’ve never been like Isabella," she admitted quietly, going back to kneading the dough. "I’m just... a baker. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to be."

Tae nodded, understanding. "But you’ve had to deal with a lot because of her, haven’t you?"

Ariana hesitated, her hands slowing as she worked the dough. She didn’t look up this time, her gaze focused on the task in front of her as if it was a way to distract herself from the conversation. Tae noticed the change in her demeanor—the way her shoulders tensed slightly, the way her expression became more guarded.

He knew he was treading on delicate ground, but he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to know more about her, to understand the weight she carried.

"Is it okay if I ask what happened... with the Italians?" Tae asked gently, keeping his voice soft and unassuming. "You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready. I just—"

Ariana cut him off with a quiet sigh, finally stopping her work as she leaned against the counter, her hands resting on the edge. She didn’t look at him as she spoke, her voice low and measured.

"It’s... hard to talk about," she admitted, her eyes fixed on the dough in front of her. "But I guess you deserve to know, considering everything you did to help me."

Tae stayed silent, giving her the space to speak at her own pace. He didn’t want to rush her, and he could sense that this wasn’t an easy topic for her to discuss.

Ariana took a deep breath before continuing, her voice trembling slightly. "When they captured me, they didn’t just want me. They wanted information about Isabella—about the mafia, about our family. They thought if they tortured me, I’d give them what they wanted."

Tae’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. The thought of Ariana being hurt, tortured, for something she had nothing to do with made his blood boil. He couldn’t imagine the pain she must have gone through, the fear she must have felt.

"They..." Ariana’s voice faltered, and she closed her eyes for a moment, as if trying to steady herself. "They did a lot of things to try to break me. Physically, sexually... It didn’t matter to them how far they had to go. They just wanted me to talk."

Tae’s heart clenched at her words. The rage he felt was tempered only by the overwhelming sadness that washed over him, knowing that Ariana had suffered so much. He wanted to reach out, to comfort her, but he wasn’t sure if she’d want that right now.

"But I never gave them anything," Ariana said, her voice hardening slightly. "No matter what they did, I didn’t tell them anything. I couldn’t betray Isabella, not after everything she’s done for me. So I endured it."

There was a heavy silence between them, the weight of her words hanging in the air. Tae swallowed hard, his throat tight as he struggled to find the right words.

"I’m so sorry, Ariana," he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "You didn’t deserve any of that."

Ariana gave a small, sad smile, finally looking up at him. "No one deserves that. But... it’s over now. Thanks to you and the others, I’m free."

Tae stepped closer, his eyes searching hers. "You’re not alone, you know. You have people who care about you—your sister, the guys, me. We’re all here for you, and we’ll do whatever it takes to help you heal."

Ariana blinked, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She hadn’t expected such kindness, such understanding from someone like Tae. He was part of the mafia, part of a world she had always felt disconnected from, but in this moment, he was just a man offering her comfort. And that meant more to her than he could ever know.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Tae gave her a small, reassuring smile. "You don’t have to thank me. I’m just glad you’re safe now."

For a moment, they stood there in silence, the tension between them easing as they shared this quiet moment of understanding. Ariana wiped her hands on her apron, taking a deep breath as she tried to collect herself.

"Sorry for dumping all of that on you," she said with a faint smile. "I didn’t mean to get so heavy."

Tae shook his head, his expression soft. "You don’t have to apologize. I’m glad you told me. I just... I want to be there for you, Ariana. In any way I can."

Ariana looked at him, her heart warming at his words. She wasn’t sure what the future held for her, or if she’d ever be able to fully move past what had happened to her, but for the first time in a long while, she felt like she wasn’t alone in this. And that was enough for now.

With a small nod, Ariana turned back to her dough, resuming her work. Tae stayed by her side, quietly helping her with whatever she needed, and though they didn’t say much for the rest of the afternoon, the unspoken bond between them grew stronger with each passing moment.