Chapter 1 - THE CAKES ON THE PAVEMENT
The crash of the table hitting the pavement could be heard all the way from the entrance of the building.
Cardboard boxes burst open.
Two small cakes collapsed against the sidewalk.
A dozen wrapped slices rolled beneath expensive shoes.
Aline froze for one second.
Then she dropped to her knees.
Her hands shook as she tried to save anything that had not touched dirty concrete.
“I told you this cannot be here.”
Samantha Vale stood over her in cream trousers and a silk blouse that probably cost more than Aline’s oven.
“This is the entrance to a serious company.”
“Not a street market.”
Aline looked up.
“Ma’am, I have permission.”
Samantha laughed.
“From who?”
“Building management.”
“Then management made a mistake.”
Aline swallowed.
“I never block the entrance.”
“You block the view.”
Aline blinked.
Samantha pointed at the ruined cakes.
“And now you’re blocking the sidewalk too.”
A few people watched.
Nobody stepped forward.
That part hurt more than Aline expected.
Not the insult.
The quiet shoes moving around her.
People pretending not to see.
Thirty-two floors above, Heitor Albuquerque stood beside the glass wall of his office.
He had watched Samantha’s car pull up.
He had watched his fiancée walk toward Aline.
He had watched the table fall.
Bernardo, his business partner, came to the window.
“What the hell did she do?”
Heitor was already moving.
The elevator took too long.
Thirty-two floors gave him time to ask a question he did not like.
Had Samantha changed?
Or had he simply never been the person she treated badly?
When the doors opened, Aline was still gathering boxes.
A maintenance worker held a trash bag.
Samantha was gone.
Heitor crouched beside Aline.
“Are you all right?”
She looked at him.
“You again.”
He almost smiled.
For six weeks he had bought cake from her cart around ten-twenty every morning.
To Aline, he was just another office worker with expensive shirts and too many questions about cinnamon.
“I’m fine.”
It was a terrible lie.
Heitor picked up an unopened slice.
“The woman who did this—”
“I don’t want trouble.”
“I do.”
That made her look at him.
He shrugged.
“Not for you.”
“For her.”
Aline stared for a second, then shook her head.
“Please don’t.”
Heitor understood the fear beneath that sentence.
People with less money paid more for conflict.
He helped clean.
Then he bought every slice that survived.
“You can’t eat twenty pieces.”
“I have three hundred employees upstairs.”
“You work with three hundred people?”
“Something like that.”
Aline narrowed her eyes.
“You never said what you do.”
“You never asked.”
“That’s suspicious.”
He laughed.
Then Samantha came back through the glass doors.
She stopped when she saw him kneeling beside Aline.
Her face changed.
Not guilt.
Possession.
“Heitor.”
Aline looked between them.
Samantha forced a smile.
“You didn’t tell me you were coming down.”
Heitor stood.
“You didn’t tell me you were throwing food onto the street.”
Samantha’s jaw tightened.
“She was violating building policy.”
“No.”
Heitor brushed cake crumbs from his hand.
“She wasn’t.”
Aline looked confused.
Samantha looked furious.
Then she said the thing that made Bernardo, watching from inside, close his eyes.
“You don’t need to defend the help.”
Heitor went still.
Aline’s face went blank.
Samantha saw it and smiled faintly.
“Come on.”
She touched Heitor’s arm.
“We’re late for lunch.”
He moved away from her hand.
Aline bent to pick up her folding table.
“I should go.”
Heitor looked at her.
“No.”
Samantha laughed.
“What do you mean, no?”
He turned toward the building.
“Bernardo.”
His partner stepped outside.
“Call operations.”
“Give Aline a written vendor permit.”
“Permanent.”
Samantha stared.
“You can’t do that.”
Heitor looked at her.
“I can.”
Aline frowned.
“Why?”
Heitor hesitated.
Then said it.
“Because I own the building.”
Silence.
Aline stared at him.
Samantha’s face turned white.
Then Heitor added quietly.
“And the woman who destroyed your cakes is my fiancée.”
Aline’s expression closed completely.
She folded the table.
“Congratulations.”
Then she walked away.
Heitor watched her go.
Samantha hissed.
“You humiliated me.”
He turned.
“No.”
“You did that yourself.”
That night, Aline received an email from building security.
Her vendor permit had been revoked.
Reason.
Suspected theft from a tenant suite.
May you like
And attached to the complaint was security footage showing Aline entering a locked office she had never seen before.
