CH006: His Offer

[ BROOKLYN ]

“So sorry I have to run, hunnie. I hate that I have to leave you to handle all this alone.”

Carmen steps out of the cafe and joins me on the sidewalk where I am unloading fresh pastries from the delivery van. She looks polished as always in her fitted skirt and blouse.

“That’s okay, Miss Cooper. You don’t have to apologize. This is my job.” I offer her a polite smile, balancing two warm, bulky boxes of croissants in my arms while keeping my composure.

“Come on, Brooklyn. I’ve told you already. Call me by my first name, okay?” She pats my arm teasingly.

“Right. Carmen.” I smile and nod.

“That’s what I’m talking about.” She laughs softly, then leans in and plants a light kiss on my cheek. “See you later, Brook.”

With that, she hurries off toward her car parked nearby, stilettos clicking sharply against the pavement.

She flashes me one last bright smile through the rolled-down window before driving away.

I stand there for a few seconds, watching her car disappear down the street.

Carmen is genuinely nice. Even though we are close in age, she never demands formality. She wants me to talk to her like a friend.

I have only worked here a few days, but I already like her.

She teaches Entrepreneurship at Bayview Institute of Entrepreneurship and Innovation, and she once told me that the cafe is her way of staying grounded after long days at the university.

I admire her independence more than anything.

One day soon, I promise myself, I will have that same freedom. I will never repeat the pathetic mistakes I made in my previous life.

I let out a slow breath, turn around, and carry the boxes inside.

After arranging them, I go back out to finish unloading the rest of the pastries before the van pulls away.

Back inside the quiet cafe, I start setting the fresh items neatly in the display case. It is still early. The morning rush hasn’t begun yet.

My phone suddenly rings in my jeans pocket. I pull it out and see Mom’s name on the screen.

A frown creases my forehead.

I left the house barely thirty minutes ago. Why is she calling already?

I answer. “Mom?”

“Brooks, you have to come to the police station right now!” Her voice breaks with raw panic, sobs choking her words. “Your dad has been arrested!”

My whole body goes rigid. My heart slams against my ribs as ice-cold fear shoots through me.

“What do you mean he’s been arrested?” I breathe. “I just left both of you half an hour ago.”

“It’s Mr. Armani,” she sobs, sniffling loudly.

I can hear voices in the background. She’s definitely at the station.

“He came with the cops right after you left. Claimed Nolan is trying to defraud him. They took him away even though I begged them. You have to come now, Brooks.”

By the time she finishes, I can barely breathe. Pure anger and hatred burn deep in my chest.

“Calm down, Mom,” I say, even though I need someone to tell me the same thing. My insides are a complete mess. “I’ll be there soon. I promise I’ll do everything I can so Dad doesn’t spend the night in that cell.”

“Okay, honey,” she whispers, her sobs easing slightly. “Please hurry.”

The call ends.

I drop the phone on the counter and drag my fingers through my hair, frustration tearing at me.

What the fuck am I supposed to do now?

I can’t just abandon the cafe. My shift has barely started, and the afternoon worker won’t show up for hours.

Why the hell did Odion Armani have to pull this shit today of all days? That fucking bastard.

The Armanis destroyed my family in my previous life, and I’d be damned if I let the same bullshit happen again.

“Oh God.” I groan, pressing my elbows onto the counter and burying my face in my hands.

I am so lost in my racing thoughts, trying to figure out how to get to the station without leaving the cafe completely unattended, that I don’t hear the door open.

The sharp ring of the bell on the counter snaps me out of it.

I jerk my hands down, straighten up quickly, and force a fake smile onto my face while smoothing my hair.

“Good morning, welcome to Pastries and Steam—”

The words die in my throat. My smile freezes, my fingers stilling mid-air.

Standing right in front of me is Izaac Armani.

I blink hard, fast, thrice, willing the image to disappear. But it doesn’t.

He is really here. In the flesh. Looking too damn real in a perfectly tailored black suit that hugs his broad shoulders and powerful frame.

One hand is shoved deep in his pocket, exuding the kind of effortless dominance that makes my stomach twist.

“Hi, Miss Wheeler.” His voice is low and smooth, the deep bass filling the empty cafe like dark smoke.

I want to snap at him. I want to demand what the fuck he is doing here.

But I swallow the venom, forcing myself to stay professional.

Maybe he is just here for coffee. I can’t afford to lose this job by acting crazy.

I keep my tone calm and polite. “Good morning, sir. What can I get for you?”

Izaac does not answer immediately.

He simply stares at me, calm and unblinking, his striking turquoise eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that feels like he is peeling straight into my soul.

The silence stretches, heavy and charged.

Just as I open my mouth to repeat the question, my patience thinning, he speaks again, voice low and commanding.

“We need to talk.”

This time, I throw every ounce of politeness and professionalism out the damn window.

I scoff, folding my arms tightly over my chest as I glare at him.

“Are you stalking me? Do you want me to call the cops on you? Because I can have you arrested for that, you know.”

“I just stopped by to talk,” he repeats, his voice calm in that way that pisses me off even more.

“And who says I want to hear anything you have to say? Didn’t I make it clear yesterday?”

At that moment, realization slams into me. A bitter scoff escapes my lips.

“Wait a fucking minute. Don’t tell me you’re here to mock me because your father just arrested mine.”

Izaac raises a brow, giving me an

are-you-serious-right-now look.

“Why would I do that? Is that really how low you think of me?”

“Then why the hell else are you here this early?” I fire back, staring him straight in the eyes. I laugh bitterly. “And you have the nerve to ask if I think that low of you? Mister, I think the lowest possible low of you.”

Izaac opens his mouth like he wants to snap back, then closes it again.

Good. Because I’m more than ready to tear him apart.

He exhales deeply and speaks in that same controlled tone. “Actually, I came here to strike a deal with you.”

I lift a brow. “A deal?”

Without saying another word, he reaches into his pocket, pulls out a blank cheque, and drops it on the counter. He slides it slowly toward me.

I stare at the cheque, then back at him, confusion twisting my face. “What’s this for?”

“Your ticket out of everything.” He answers simply.

I shake my head, more confused than ever.

“Dude, what the fuck is that supposed to mean? Are you going to keep beating around the bush until I throw you out, or are you going to tell me what the hell you want?”

He raises a brow. “You know, I didn’t think you used this many cuss words. I thought you were…”

“What?” I cut in sharply. “Naive? Stupid? The kind of girl who’s easy to use and throw away?”

He blinks, clearly taken aback by my words.

“I didn’t… I never said that.” He exhales again, trying to steady himself. “Like I said, I want to strike a deal with you.”

“I heard you the first time,” I snap, my patience hanging by a thread. I don’t have time for this bullshit when my father is literally sitting in a cell right now. “So what’s the damn deal?”

“The one that will completely clear your father’s debt to my family. Your family will never have to go through this humiliation again.”

His words make me freeze.

A dangerous flicker of hope sparks in my chest. Is he serious? He would really do that?

But I shut it down fast.

This is an Armani. The same family that ruined me before. I’d be an idiot to believe a single word from his mouth.

“I don’t recall asking for help. Especially not from an Armani.” I glare at him hard. “I’m more than capable of handling my own shit. So no, thank you. Now if you don’t mind, I have things to do.”

I step out from behind the counter and head toward the chairs to arrange them.

But the second I try to walk past him, his strong hand shoots out and grabs my arm, stopping me dead in my tracks. His grip is firm yet strangely gentle.

My heart stutters.

I look up into those intense turquoise eyes. There’s a hint of amusement dancing in them.

“How sweet and naive of you to think you can pay off that kind of debt by…” His gaze sweeps over the small cafe, and an amused smirk tugs at his lips. “Working here? Skating on ice? Really? Are you that delusional?”

“Let go of me, Izaac.” I say through clenched teeth, my glare hot enough to burn.

I try to ignore how stupidly warm and strong his hand feels wrapped around my arm.

“Not until you drop your ego and agree to the deal.” His smirk deepens, those dark, entertained eyes searching mine. “Like I said earlier, you get to wipe out the entire debt and free your dad from my family’s grip forever.”

“And what do you get out of it?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. “I know you’re definitely not doing something this big without wanting something in return.”

“It’s simple, honey.” He leans in closer until our faces are inches apart.

I refuse to back away. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me intimidated.

“Be my wife,” he says, tone lower. “and I will make that debt disappear.”