The atmosphere in the rented living room that night was tense.
The ticking of the wall clock echoed slowly, as if counting the seconds between silence and the secrets they were both keeping.
Emma stared at Dyana Rosey in disbelief, her eyes wide, her voice rising slightly.
"What did you just say, Dyan? That man Marchos Alexander offered Uncle Edward to open a café under his company? Are you sure?"
Dyana Rosey nodded slowly, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the cushion on her lap.
"Uncle Edward told me himself. He said he's sorry and that he wants to help by offering compensation and a new location inside his company building."
Emma crossed her arms, her brow furrowing.
"Help, huh... I don't believe this is just coincidence. Dyan, men like him never do anything without a reason. I think he has an agenda and I think that agenda involves you."
Her tone was heavy with warning. Dyana Rosey took a deep breath, her gaze fixed on the floor.
"That's why I don't want Uncle Edward to know anything about him. Don't tell him what happened that day. Don't even mention his name. I don't want to make Uncle worry."
Emma looked at her friend for a long moment before shaking her head slowly.
"But Dyan, this isn't something small. He broke into your house, he hurt me, and now he suddenly wants to 'help' your family? This is insane! We should go to the police."
Dyana Rosey flinched slightly, looking up at Emma with eyes glistening with tears.
"No, Emma. Please… I don't want to make things worse. If he finds out we reported him, I'm afraid he'll take it out on Uncle Edward. I… I can't bear that."
Emma stomped her foot lightly on the floor, struggling to contain her anger and worry.
"I just don't want you to get hurt, Dyan. You saw the way he looked at you that day… that wasn't a normal look. That was the look of someone who thinks you belong to him."
Dyana Rosey gave a faint smile, her voice soft.
"I don't know, Emma. Until now, I still don't understand why he suddenly started interfering in my life. I don't even know him."
They fell silent.
The night wind slipped in gently through the slightly open window, carrying with it a cold shadow that made the room shiver.
At last, Emma spoke again her tone firm but gentle.
"Fine. I'll respect your decision. But I want you to know one thing—if he shows up again, I won't stay quiet. I'll go straight to the police."
Dyana Rosey only nodded slowly. Deep down, she knew Emma was right.
Marchos Alexander was no ordinary man.
And what looked like help might just be the first trap in a much darker game than they ever imagined.
***
The sky over Vancouver that evening was gray, as always.
Thick clouds gathered, blocking the weak sunlight sinking in the western horizon.
Cold wind blew, carrying the faint scent of rain left on the damp cobblestone streets.
The sound of footsteps mixed with the honks of black taxis lined up in front of tall office buildings.
Across the street, the headquarters of Marchos Alexander's company towered proudly—its glass walls reflecting the restless city.
From the upper floors, the view of the Coquitlam River rippled quietly, hiding the secrets of Canada's mysterious nights.
Inside Marchos Alexander's office, the atmosphere was different.
The bitter scent of coffee mixed with the leathery aroma of expensive chairs.
Mr. Jack stood before the massive desk, holding a black file with a grave expression.
"All the videos recorded by the staff have been deleted, sir. They've all been fired as well," Mr. Jack reported carefully.
Marchos Alexander said nothing.
He simply brushed his fingers along his lip, still cut from Dyana Rosey's slap the night before.
The thin line of the wound glowed faintly under the golden office lights.
Mr. Jack dared a glance at his boss.
"That woman… quite bold, to slap you in front of everyone."
A faint smirk curved Marchos's lips.
"She's not an ordinary woman."
He leaned back in his chair, eyes drifting toward the gloomy Canadian sky outside the window.
"What about the investigation on that man?" he asked softly, his voice sharp beneath the calm.
Mr. Jack opened the file in his hands.
"We found new information, but… it all leads back to the same person."
Marchos raised an eyebrow.
"Who?"
"Dyana Rosey."
Silence.
Only the ticking of the wall clock filled the room—marking the beginning of something darker in Vancouver that night.
"Continue," he said quietly, his tone deep and cold.
Mr. Jack swallowed hard. His grip on the file tightened.
"Ryan… he's not a stranger, sir. His family was close with Dyana Rosey's family when they were children."
Marchos Alexander didn't move. His eyes fixed on the small flame at the tip of the cigar between his fingers.
"Go on," he murmured, smiling faintly in a way that chilled the air.
"When Ryan was seventeen," Mr. Jack continued slowly, "his parents fell into deep debt. Their business went bankrupt… and not long after, they—"
"Killed themselves," Marchos interrupted flatly. "I know that kind of ending. The world never pities the weak."
Mr. Jack lowered his gaze but continued.
"After that, he started a small business after graduating. On the surface it looked legitimate… but beneath that, he was involved in drug trafficking. He acted as a 'broker' in the underground world."
Suddenly, Marchos laughed loud and sharp, echoing through the office.
It was a cruel laugh, mocking something only he understood.
"That man…" Marchos leaned forward, his voice dropping low and dangerous. "…tries to play hero in front of Rosey, when he's rotten to the bone."
He turned toward Mr. Jack, his lips curving into a cold smile.
"I'll make sure that girl kneels before me—not out of fear, but because she has no choice."
Mr. Jack bowed his head, but inside, a shiver crept through him.
For the first time, he truly realized just how dangerous the man named Marchos Alexander was.
Weeks passed quickly.
The Sky Corporation building looked livelier than ever, filled with fresh flowers and the scent of newly brewed coffee.
Edward's Brew Café had finally opened on the ground floor of the building.
For Dyana Rosey, that day wasn't one she had looked forward to, just one she had to face.
She stood behind the counter, helping Emma arrange the cups and cakes that had just arrived from the kitchen.
Her face appeared calm on the surface, but deep inside, something heavy stirred something that twisted every time Marchos Alexander's name crossed her mind.
Please, don't let me see him again.
That was her prayer every morning before stepping into the building.
Edward smiled proudly as he looked around the lively café.
"Beautiful, isn't it, Dyan? Just like the old days, back when our café was in the city. Only now, it's bigger… more modern."
Dyana Rosey forced a small smile.
"Yes, Uncle… it's beautiful."
But her smile didn't reach her eyes.
Emma, wiping the tables nearby, watched her friend quietly.
She knew that smile wasn't happiness—it was a mask to hide the tremor that hadn't faded.
She sighed softly, then teased, hoping to lighten the mood.
"Dyan, if that man suddenly walks in here, can you please not make a face like you've seen a ghost? I don't want the customers to run off because our barista's traumatized."
Dyana Rosey rolled her eyes, lips curving slightly.
"Emma… stop scaring me."
Emma grinned, bumping her friend's shoulder playfully.
"I'm serious! But if he does come and stare at you again, I swear I'll throw this cup in his face."
Dyana Rosey couldn't help but laugh softly.
The sound was delicate, but enough to make Emma feel relieved at least her friend could still laugh, even if just for a moment.
The air in Edward's Brew Café was fresh with the scent of roasted coffee and chatter from a steady stream of customers.
Edward busied himself behind the counter, his face glowing with joy.
His dream of reopening the café had finally come true.
The glass door chimed softly as someone entered.
Ryan stepped in slowly, wearing a black leather jacket and sunglasses hanging from his chest.
His eyes immediately found Dyana Rosey, who was helping Emma arrange cakes behind the counter.
"Ryan?" Dyana Rosey was surprised, but a small smile appeared on her lips. "You came."
Ryan smiled faintly.
"Of course. I heard Uncle Edward reopened his café. I couldn't miss the chance to congratulate him."
Edward turned at the sound of that familiar voice. His eyes widened before breaking into a big smile.
"Ryan! It's been ages! You've grown up, boy—look at you now!"
They shook hands firmly, the old warmth still between them.
Edward had once been a driver for Dyana's family, and Ryan, the boy who used to share laughter in that old car had now become a man of success, at least on the surface.
But deep inside, Ryan hadn't come just to say congratulations.
He was shocked to learn that the offer to open the café came from Marchos Alexander himself.
That name alone made his chest tighten with suspicion and unease.
Days before the café's opening, Ryan had hired a private investigator to dig up information on the mysterious man who suddenly appeared in Dyana Rosey's life.
But the results came back empty.
No family records.
No academic history.
No clear digital footprint.
Only whispers—that Marchos Alexander held vast influence, with ties reaching the corporate world, politics… and the criminal underworld.
Ryan gripped his coffee cup tightly.
That man is too powerful. Too rich. And too dangerous to provoke.
He took a long breath, trying to hide the unease on his face.
His eyes lingered on Dyana Rosey, laughing softly with Emma.
Silently, he made a promise to himself—whatever happened, he wouldn't let Marchos Alexander come near her again.
Sitting at the corner table, Ryan watched quietly.
The soft orange glow of dusk lit Dyana Rosey's gentle face, making his chest tighten with emotions he didn't fully understand.
Taking a deep breath, he stood and approached the counter.
"Dyan," he called softly.
She turned, slightly startled.
"Yes? What is it?"
Ryan leaned casually against the counter, arms crossed, trying to sound relaxed.
"I wanted to ask… are you free tonight?"
Dyana Rosey frowned.
"Free? Why?"
Ryan gave a faint smile.
"I was thinking… dinner. Somewhere simple, don't worry. It's just I feel like we haven't really talked since everything that happened."
Dyana Rosey fell silent, her eyes searching his for sincerity.
"Ryan… I'm not sure—"
Before she could finish, Emma appeared behind the counter, grinning mischievously.
"OHHH! Dinner for two, huh?" she squealed, making Ryan straighten up immediately.
"Emma, it's not like that!" Dyana protested, cheeks flushing red.
Ryan chuckled softly, raising an eyebrow.
"And if I said it was like that, would you be mad, Dyan?"
Emma clapped her hands in delight.
"Oh my god! This is better than any K-drama I've watched! Dyan, if you turn him down, I swear I'll go to dinner with Ryan myself!"
"Emma!" Dyana playfully slapped her friend's arm, embarrassed. "You're impossible!"
Ryan laughed quietly, enjoying the lighthearted moment.
"So… what do you say, Dyana Rosey? Dinner tonight?"
Dyana looked at him, then lowered her gaze, wiping her hands on her apron.
"Alright," she said softly but just enough for Ryan's smile to widen in satisfaction.
Emma nearly squealed with excitement.
"Yes! Finally! Ryan and Dyana real-life edition!"
Ryan just laughed, but deep down, he knew…
Tonight wouldn't be just an ordinary dinner.