Chapter 7 - The Threat at the Bakery
The fragile peace in Queens lasted less than a week. It was a rainy Tuesday afternoon, and the bakery was empty of customers as the afternoon drizzle slicked the pavement outside. Nora was in the back kitchen prepping dough for the next morning’s batch, while Leo sat near the front counter doing his homework. Dominic had left an hour earlier, heading downtown to manage his business affairs and shore up his loyal capos. Suddenly, the front door of the bakery burst open with a violent crash, shattering the quiet afternoon. Three burly, rough-looking men wearing heavy leather jackets stepped into the shop, tracking rainwater across the clean floor. Their faces were hardened by street violence, and their eyes scanned the room with predatory malice. Leo looked up from his homework, startled and frightened. He dropped his crayon and scrambled backward off his stool, hiding behind the counter. “Hey, kid! Where’s the owner?” the lead enforcer demanded, a man with a jagged scar running down his cheek—one of Carmine Russo’s primary thugs named Frankie. Nora heard the commotion from the kitchen and rushed out through the swinging doors, wiping her flour-covered hands on her apron. When she saw the three thugs towering over the counter where Leo was cowering, her maternal protective instincts flared with blinding fury. “Get out of my shop right now, or I’m calling the police!” Nora shouted, stepping between the thugs and her son. Frankie chuckled darkly, stepping closer until he invaded her personal space. The smell of cheap whiskey and wet leather hung heavy around him. “Relax, sweetheart. We’re not here to buy cupcakes,” Frankie sneered. “We’re here to deliver a message from Mr. Carmine Russo to his crippled little friend, Dominic.” Nora’s face paled, but she stood her ground, refusing to show fear. “I don't know any Carmine. Get out!” “Oh, you’ll know him soon enough,” Frankie hissed, reaching out a heavy hand and grabbing a glass display jar filled with biscotti, smashing it deliberately onto the floor where shards exploded across the tiles. “Tell Dominic that anyone who associates with him pays a tax. We’ll be back next Tuesday for our cut. If the shop isn't empty or the cash isn't ready, we burn it to the ground with you and the kid inside.” With a crude laugh, Frankie and his thugs turned around and swaggered out into the rain, letting the door slam shut behind them. Nora collapsed against the counter, her knees shaking so badly she could barely stand. She rushed around the barrier, sweeping Leo into her arms, holding him tight against her chest as he sobbed in terror. “Mommy, who were those bad men?” Leo cried into her shoulder. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay,” Nora whispered, tears of rage and fear spilling over her lashes. She pulled out her phone with trembling fingers, dialed a number Dominic had given her for emergencies, and pressed call.
