All Chapters of The Price of a Second Chance: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

The silence that remained after Casper left was worse than any scream. The door had slammed hard, but what really hurt was his sentence still echoing inside my head. "If the city doesn’t swallow you, I will." I stood behind the counter, fisted, trying to calm my breath. The smell of coffee mixed with the cold sweat that ran down my neck. I knew he meant it. If he decided to destroy me, I would find a way to survive. And the worst part is that part of me believed he would have justification for it. I spent the rest of the morning serving customers automatically. Few looked into my eyes. Some came, asked for coffee, and left too fast, as if they were about to witness something dangerous at any moment. Others spent too much time watching my every gesture, as if they expected to see the claws arise again. I tried to ignore it, but every whisper, every look was a reminder: the city was changing. I was changing. Naomi didn’t show up. Part of me expected to see her, perhaps with that exp

The world disappeared when her lips found mine. There was no more street, no more city, no more weight of whispers, or shadow of Casper’s threat. There was only Naomi. And me. And the fire that was lit when our mouths touched.The kiss began urgently, as if we were trying to pull from each other all the accumulated fear. Her breath mixed with mine, hot, fast, and broken. I held her face with both hands, as if I needed to be sure that she was real, that she was still there and had not run away like all the others. She did not back down. On the contrary, she came closer, her hands sliding across my chest, grabbing her shirt as if she was afraid I would move away.When I pulled her closer, I felt her body glued to mine, and the beast inside me roared in silence. Not of anger, but of need. For a moment, I feared that she might feel this trembling in me and move away. But Naomi just gave more, her fingers rising up my neck, pulling me hard.I raised her, without thinking, without calculati

The phone vibrated on the table, and I didn’t even have to look to know what it was. For hours, notifications arrived without stopping. I opened the screen and once again saw the video running. Lancelot, the perfect example of failure. Trembling, the nails almost jumping, the roar stuck in the throat. The audience had what they wanted: confirmation of the monster that was always there.Laughing alone, the sound echoes in my office. "I warned you," I whispered to myself, savoring the taste of victory. While everyone saw only the threat he represented, I saw the whole picture. That was not just a slip of Lancelot—it was proof that he had no control and could not protect anyone. And if he could not protect her, then Naomi would sooner or later have to accept the truth.I picked up a glass of whiskey, spinning the amber liquid as I watched it again. Each repetition was better. There was no way he could escape from that. The city had already begun to judge, and I just needed to give it a p

I knew before I even left the house. The smell was in the air. The whole town had seen it. The entire village had spoken. And now, every step of mine seemed to be heard by everyone.The video. Damn video. I didn’t need to see it again to remember: my hands tremble, nails stretching under the yellow light of the street, the grave sound stuck in my throat. Nothing else was needed. That was enough to confirm what they always wanted to believe.I opened the cafeteria early, before sunrise. I thought that if I was busy, I might be able to shut my mind. The routine has always been my shelter. Turn on the machines, prepare the beans, and smell the aroma of coffee filling the space. But even the smell looked different today. Sour. As if the air itself rejected the normality I was trying to impose.The bell rang. A customer came in—one of the regulars, a lady who came daily to ask for the same cappuccino with cinnamon. She did not smile. He did not ask about the weather nor complain about the

I always thought I knew silence.The silence of dawn, when I turned on the coffee machines and the smell of coffee, was the only thing alive in the air. The silence of the streets before opening the shops, broken only by the creaking of metal gates being raised. Until the silence of the night, when I locked the door and was alone with my thoughts.But nothing was comparable to this silence. Silence must be avoided.That morning, the coffee was ready, the cakes fresh out of the oven, and the tables clean—and almost no one came in. The few who went in did not stay. A couple crossed the street to see me on the counter, as if my mere presence was contagious. A mother pulled her son by the arm, hurried, after throwing me a glance too fast.It was as if I had become invisible—but not the way I wanted. Invisible in the sense that no one wanted to see me. Naomi arrived shortly after, with the same tired expression as always. But it was enough to cross the door for her to notice."It’s empty,"