William crossed the street at a leisurely pace, with the calm of someone who has learned to master even his own nerves. Despite the clear tension he felt, it seemed as if those nerves had become a mere insignificant detail compared to the determination that guided him.
As he walked, he carefully examined the package in his hands, barely opening it and checking its contents one last time, not because he doubted its quality, but because he preferred to personally confirm that nothing had escaped him.
The wrapping was still intact, the aroma escaped through the folds of the sweet, thick waxed paper, and the calligraphy on the label displayed the same careful touch as always.
Perfect.
When he reached the sidewalk in front of the bar, he paused for a moment, carefully assessing the appearance of the block.
In addition to the Nosbeltran, a mini-supermarket, a kiosk, a café, a laundromat, a small shopping center, and now a bakery were lined up. Curiously, all of these establishments belonged to the Aballay family or were linked to them through more or less formal agreements.
To the eye of any passerby, it was just an ordinary street. To William, however, it was a carefully designed project.
This new establishment not only visually balanced the surroundings but also offered a necessary counterpoint. And that's without considering the real reason he had agreed to supervise it in person.
The mere notion of who came to work there almost brought a smile to his face, though it was suppressed almost immediately.
The alpha shook his head, dismissing the idea with some irritation, and looked up.
Before him stood the curious and adorable facade of the new establishment. It was the complete opposite of what one would expect in an area famous for its strict and controlled atmosphere.
Instead of austere facades, there was a corner filled with warmth, with walls painted a delicate pastel pink and frames in a white similar to powdered sugar, giving a subtly sweet touch.
A large window, decorated with artistic panels, proudly displayed a variety of cakes, pastries, and cookies in shapes as creative as they were charming, many of them inspired by the figures of small animals.
On the glass, a sign in cursive letters discreetly announced the name: Sweet Toy Cupcake.
This detail seemed to invite passersby to stop and discover what lay behind such tenderness. The image, so friendly and approachable, contrasted markedly with the usual atmosphere of the area, where everything tends to have a much colder and more controlled feel.
But Sweet Toy Cupcake wasn't simply a neighborhood business; it was much more. It was a true pastry conglomerate, with branches spread across the country, and it had managed to consolidate itself thanks to an unshakeable reputation for reliability and quality.
What truly distinguished it were its precise and rigorous internal policies and the discreet alliances it maintained with influential and powerful figures.
Within this organizational structure, there was a rather peculiar rule that set the tone in each of its branches: each store must always have an omega in charge of the kitchen or customer service, supported by betas who performed logistical tasks, while security was exclusively in the hands of alphas.
This system, as unusual as it was unbreakable, was designed to achieve a delicate balance of roles that, according to its guidelines, promoted both internal harmony and mishap-proof efficiency.
In essence, the idea was simple yet highly effective: each function was clearly defined according to the skills and characteristics specific to each role, establishing a hierarchy that, far from generating tension, facilitated the smooth running of the business.
This organization not only guaranteed impeccable service at every point of sale but also reinforced the image and trust that so many customers placed in the brand. Customers knew that behind every sweet creation was an organized team, where each member knew their role and contributed to the overall success of the conglomerate.
The contrast with the rest of the block was almost comical when you thought about it. This was the first time they had opened a branch so close to a property officially associated with a crime family.
Anyone looking at the current facade would hardly recognize the previous building. Just weeks ago, it was a dilapidated structure, with rotten wood in the windows, damp stains on the walls, and wires dangling dangerously from the ceiling. However, the Aballay reconstruction team had worked tirelessly, completely transforming the place in a single night, as if someone had swapped the entire building for another.
According to Deimos, the conglomerate had plans to continue investing in the area. They were looking for more than just a retail outlet; they desired a symbolic alliance, which William would have no problem making if they followed the rules and accepted certain favors when asked.
Although the establishment appeared functional, the lights on, the sweet aroma seeping through the cracks, a sign on the glass door indicated that it was still closed.
William had no intention of forcing anything, so he gently knocked, not wanting to inconvenience anyone or give the wrong impression. A few minutes later, when he noticed that no one was coming despite the fact that he sensed someone already inside and the door wasn't locked, he carefully pushed and entered.
The aroma of nuts greeted him immediately, thick and enveloping. The interior, illuminated by warm light, had beige walls with white lines that softened the atmosphere.
Although some furniture was already arranged for customers, the furnishings still seemed incomplete. There were obvious gaps as if someone had stopped the decor mid-plan.
Perhaps it was her entrepreneurial instinct speaking, but she felt the space hadn't yet reached even a fraction of its true potential.
What did seem perfectly set up was the wide glass counter and the wooden shelves behind it, bearing the unmistakable hallmark of her organization: solid, functional, and ready to operate. Sure, they were still empty, but they were a clear promise of sweet things to come.
A faint sound came from the kitchen, just behind a swinging door. The strongest aroma also came from there: vanilla, almonds, and something else.
Something that made her blood churn.
On the counter was a small bell. Since she didn't see anyone, she rang it.
Tink… Tink… Tink…
The sound echoed clearly. From the kitchen, a soft curse spoken by a female voice floated to his ears.
The alpha raised an eyebrow, not at the insult, but at the sharp pang that ran through him as he perceived the voice as unfamiliar.
"I'll be right there, please wait!" a slightly agitated female voice shouted.
William immediately straightened. His fangs grew barely, but enough for him to notice. Something didn't add up.
(She's not Erika.)
He clicked his teeth silently.
(Why does she smell like her?)
Footsteps approached. The door burst open, and a woman entered. She looked at him in surprise, and for a moment her violet eyes fixed on him intensely, until her expression softened.
Her white hair, loose and tied in a half-ponytail, evoked an image all too close to another figure William longed to see.
"Hello! I regret to inform you that we are not yet open," she said pleasantly, stopping behind the counter with a discreet smile. "If you could come back tomorrow at this time, we will surely be able to serve you."
William studied her silently, his head tilted slightly.
"Bernadette... is that right?" he murmured, reading the label on her uniform. The scent he smelled wasn't hers. It was impregnated. It came from the environment, not from her body.
"Can I help you with something else?" the omega insisted, without losing her courtesy.
"Is the problem you were talking about a lack of staff?"
"That's right, sir." "One of our employees had a last-minute commitment," she confirmed with a somewhat resigned tone. "Is she looking for work?"
"Not in the least. But it turns out a friend of mine is."
"And you went out looking for her? What a kind gesture," Bernadette commented with a brief chuckle, lowering her gaze, slightly embarrassed. "Unfortunately, we've already filled all the positions."
"A shame... Don't worry. I'm sure she and I will find something else," he sighed with apparent disinterest. "Well, I..."
"Is that package for your friend as well?"
"It sort of contains a cake from another one of your branches... I was on my way to pick up another one, since one isn't enough for all the guests," he replied with a shrug. "Anyway, I must be going. I wish you a good day."
"Likewise!" she said, with a slight bow.
William left the bakery with a slight frown. As the morning breeze blew between the buildings, her mind spun in circles, reviewing what had just happened, along with every piece of information Deimos had provided, giving her an idea of what could have happened.
The package still in her hand weighed more than before, though not because of its contents.
(Deimos... you'd better have a good explanation so you don't notice Erika was no longer in the store.)