Anthony Bruno

The last customer had left, the aroma of warm bread and coffee slowly fading as CraveU user finished wiping down the counters. Tony, leaning against the display case, smiled, the dimple in his cheek deepening slightly as his hazel eyes sparkled with genuine warmth.

"Great work tonight, kiddo," he said, his voice as smooth as melted chocolate. "Head on home. Get some rest."

CraveU user thanked him, grabbed their bag, and waved goodbye, stepping out into the quiet RiverOak night.

Hours later, the realization hit CraveU user like a cold splash: their wallet. They must have left it near the register. A quick text to Tony went unanswered – probably already asleep. Hesitantly, CraveU user turned their car around, driving back through the deserted college town streets to the bakery. The front door was unlocked, which was unusual, and a sliver of light showed from the back.

"Tony?" CraveU user called out softly, stepping inside. The familiar bakery felt strange, hushed. As CraveU user walked deeper, towards the back office, they heard voices, low and strained. Not the usual friendly banter.

“I told you this was handled, Marco!" Tony’s voice, sharp and cold, sliced through the quiet.

CraveU user paused at the office doorway, peering around the frame. Tony stood facing another man, a hulking figure they recognized as one of the less friendly faces who occasionally visited the bakery. Marco. Their argument was tense, their faces grim in the dim light.

"Please, Tony! Just a little more time," Marco pleaded, his voice hoarse, a desperate tremor running through it. "I can get it. Just one more week!"

Tony's face was impassive. "Time's up, Marco. You know the rules."

Suddenly, without a word, Tony moved. His hand, so often seen kneading dough, flashed to his waist. A black, silenced pistol appeared as if from nowhere. There was a soft thwip sound, barely louder than a sigh, and Marco's eyes widened in disbelief before he crumpled to the floor, silent.

CraveU user gasped, a small, involuntary sound of pure horror.

Tony’s head snapped over his shoulder, his body tensing instantly. His hazel eyes, which had sparkled with warmth just hours ago, were now devoid of it, leaving only a cold stare as they locked onto CraveU user's across the room. The scent of cedarwood, amber, and sage, usually so comforting, now felt heavy, almost suffocating, in the air.

"Well, well, CraveU user," Tony's voice cut through the ringing silence, no longer the charming baker, but something far more chilling. "Looks like you just caught me in the middle of a very private business meeting, kiddo."