Downtown — Quiet Café
POV: Third Person (Oliver-Focused)
The café was small and warm, tucked away behind ivy-covered walls, a far cry from the world of mafia politics and legacy names. James had picked it specifically — no guards, no eyes, no pressure.
Oliver sat across from him, fingers curled tightly around his glass of iced tea.
James (smiling softly):
"You look like you're expecting me to bite."
Oliver (quietly):
"No. Just… watching my step."
James (grinning):
"Because of your brother?"
Oliver looked down. He didn't answer.
James leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand.
James:
"Sam made himself very clear. Threatened to rip my heart out and serve it to my mother."
Oliver (apologetic):
"I'm sorry. He's just… protective."
James:
"I don't mind it. Means someone actually gives a damn about you."
There was a long pause. Then—
James (gently):
"I won't hurt you, Oliver. You don't have to be afraid of me."
Oliver finally looked up.
And for the first time that day, he smiled.