FASHION AND CRIME

Amanda Burnet stepped out of the taxi; the evening air was thick with the scent of car exhaust and fried street food. She adjusted her bag over her shoulder, and looked up at the towering Abibba Building, its glass windows shining under the city lights.

"Another long night," she muttered to herself, sighing.

Abibba wasn't just any building; it was the financial hub of New Haven. Banks, insurance companies, and high-end businesses filled its floors. Security was tight, and as one of the key custodians, Amanda's job was important.

She walked through the entrance, nodding at the security guard stationed by the metal detectors. "Evening, Joseph."

Joseph gave her a tired smile. "Evening, Amanda. Ready for another shift?"

She chuckled. "As ready as I'll ever be."

She passed through the checkpoint and made her way to the security office. The hallway buzzed with activity; workers leaving, others settling in for the night shifts. Phones rang, printers hummed, and a little noise of people discussing different topics filled the air.

At her desk, Amanda dropped her bag and sat down. Her monitors lit up with live feeds from the building's security cameras; hallways, offices, parking lots. Everything looked normal.

She reached for the key box, checking that all safes were accounted for. Only a few high-ranking officials had access to them, but she was the one who kept the master keys locked away.

"Hey, Amanda," came a voice behind her. It was Brian, one of the junior security officers. "Think we'll get an easy night?"

Amanda smirked, tapping the monitor. "If only. But something always happens."

Brian laughed. "Yeah, but let's hope tonight is boring."

She nodded, turning back to her screens. Everything was quiet and smooth, maybe just for now.

Amanda's fingers hovered over the keyboard, eyes scanning the security monitors. The hallways were empty. The offices were quiet. She took a deep breath, and murmured something to herself.

And then, a very low noise filled the air.

Amanda barely noticed it at first, just a little hum from the monitors. But then it crackled.

The sound sharpened, like tiny electric sparks were crawling through the wires.

The screens flickered, the images twisting into disconnected lines before turning black and white.

Her stomach tightened. "What the hell...?"

Before she could react, the door flew open, slamming against the wall. Heavy boots stormed in. Shadows rushed through the room.

Six men, dressed in all black, faces hidden behind ski masks. Each mask was marked with bold white letters of MZ.

Guns gleamed under the fluorescent lights.

"Nobody move! Hands up!" one of them barked, his voice was sharp, and commanding.

Amanda's felt like she had stopped breathing. Around her, her colleagues froze, eyes widened, their hands trembling as they slowly raised them. Someone whimpered. Someone else choked on a sob.

Two of the masked men walked toward Amanda's desk, their eyes locked on her.

"You," the taller one said, pointing his gun straight at her chest. "The keys. Now."

Amanda's body went cold. Her pulse pounded in her ears. She knew better than to argue. With shaky hands, she reached for the drawer, her fingers fumbling as she pulled it open.

"Hurry up," the second man snapped with a sharp voice.

She swallowed hard, and her throat went dry. Her hands trembled as she pulled out the master keys. "P-please don't hurt anyone," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

The taller mobster snatched the keys from her hand. He scoffed. "Stay quiet, and no one gets hurt."

Without hesitation, he tossed the keys to another man, who caught them with ease and turned toward the safes. He moved quickly without turning around, like he already knew exactly where he was going.

Amanda's breath came in short gasps as she watched them. How do they know? She asked herself and wondered if the mobsters knew her as she was the one who kept the keys to the safes.

The safe doors clicked open within minutes. The mobsters worked fast, stuffing bundles of cash into large duffel bags.

The sound of siren was heard a little at first, and then louder as they were getting closer.

"Cops!" one of the mobsters snarled.

Chaos erupted. The men snapped their heads toward the door, they moved backward quickly, their guns still pointed at the civilians.

"Grab what you can...we need to go!"

One of them, a shorter figure with twitchy hands, grabbed a lighter from his pocket.

"What the hell are you doing?" another hissed.

"Covering tracks," the man muttered. With a flick, he set fire to a pile of papers and folders stacked on a nearby desk.

Flames leaped, licking up the dry paper, swallowing the documents in seconds. Smoke curled into the air and screams of panic were heard.

People rushed for the exits as fire spread rapidly across the room, climbing up the curtains, crackling over desks.

The mobsters rushed out, disappearing into the smoke-filled corridors, leaving nothing but destruction behind.

The sirens blared louder, and within moments, police cars screeched to a stop outside. Officers stormed in, and they draw out their guns, shouting for everyone to get down.

Detective James Willard stepped forward, his sharp eyes scanning the chaos. He spotted Amanda sitting outside, frozen, her hands still trembling.

He crouched beside her. "Miss, are you alright?"

Amanda opened her mouth, but no words came out.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Willard pressed gently.

Amanda blinked, her vision blurry with fear. Her lips quivered. "I don't..."

Willard exchanged glances with one of the officers. "She's in shock. Take her to the station. We need a full statement."

An officer helped Amanda to her feet. Her legs felt like jelly. As they led her out of the burning building, her mind replayed the masked men, the guns, and the fire.

It was almost four in the morning, and Sylvania Scarlet couldn't sleep, wondering what was going on. It seemed too early for trouble, but this was New Haven; the city that never rests. She heard people talking quietly outside, and soon, her dog Coco started licking her feet. At the same time, her alarm beeped, reminding her it was time to get up.

"Oh, Coco, did you even sleep?" she asked, smiling at him. Coco whimpered, and clearly he was hungry. "Alright, let's get you some food," she said, patting his head as she headed to the kitchen. After filling his bowl with dog food, Coco wagged his tail and dug right in.

Sylvania watched him for a second, and then she switched on the TV. The news came on right away.

"Breaking news: A large fire has broken out at Abibba's commercial house in downtown New Haven. Firefighters are on the scene."

Her eyes widened. Abibba House? She had no time to think about it. With a little look at the clock, she knew she was running late.

"Damn!" Sylvania muttered, rushing to the bathroom for a quick shower.

After getting dressed in a white, fitting dress and heels, she checked herself in the mirror. With a swipe of red lipstick and she was ready to go. She grabbed her bag and patted Coco one last time before heading out. Climbing into her beautiful black Benz, she drove off to Style Studios, and she was willing to be there on time.

In another part of the city, Zagaff Manscent, also known as "The Don," sat in his office, sipping wine and thinking about how to expand his power in New Haven. The police were a big problem, but he knew he had to find a way to show them he was in control.

He turned to his laptop and opened an email with a video attachment labeled "Abibba." Clicking on it, Zagaff leaned forward as the black-and-white footage showed his men moving through Abibba's corridors. They worked quickly, emptying safes filled with cash. One of them lit a match and threw it into a pile of papers, setting everything on fire.

Zagaff smiled. My men did well. They had sent a message; one that Victor Morano wouldn't ignore.

Victor, a powerful mafia figure, had once tried to get rid of him. He hired a hitman to kill Zagaff at a business gala, making it look like a robbery. But the plan failed, and that Zagaff survived.

Now, he was just returning the favor. Victor will soon know who truly runs this city.

Sylvania stepped into Style Studios, her heels clicking on the shiny floor. The room was alive with movement as designers bent over their sketches, hands flying across pages, while models walked up and down the runway, practicing their steps. The air smelled of fabric, new leather, and fresh coffee.

She walked in with a smile, her white dress catching the light, and everyone turned around just to look at her.

"Wow, Sylvania!" Vivian's eyes lit up. "You look stunning!"

Josh whistled. "That dress is made for you. You shine in white."

Sylvania laughed, twirling slightly. "I couldn't help myself. It felt like a wear-this-now kind of day."

Vivian ran a hand over the beaded area of the dress. "It sparkles like stars. You look like a queen."

Sylvania grinned, enjoying the moment. But then, Vivian's face grew serious.

"Did you hear about Abibba House?" she asked.

Josh's smile faded. "Yeah, I heard. Was it bad?"

Sylvania nodded. "I saw the news this morning. The fire looked serious."

A sharp gasp broke the air.

Anita's hands flew to her mouth. "My sister...Amanda! She was working the night shift!"

The noise of the studio disappeared.

Anita's fingers fumbled as she grabbed her phone. She quickly pressed the call button when she had found Amanda's name.

It rang continuously and there was no answer. She swallowed hard and called again, but still nothing.

Her hands shook. "Come on, Amanda... pick up."

Josh leaned closer. "Try texting her."

Anita's breath came fast, her fingers tapping quickly on the screen.

Amanda, are you okay? Please call me.

She hit send, staring at the phone waiting for it to buzz.

Sylvania placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "The news said no one was hurt. She's probably okay."

Anita nodded, but her eyes stayed locked on her phone.

Minutes passed. The sound of sewing machines, typing, and chatter filled the room again. But Anita wasn't listening. She dialed Tony, Amanda's husband who picked up at the first ring.

"Tony?" Her voice cracked. "Is Amanda okay? She won't answer, and I'm scared."

"She's safe, Anita," Tony said. "She's at the police station."

Anita's stomach clenched. "The police? Why?"

Tony sighed. "Some guys forced her to open the safes. She's not in trouble, but the police need her statement."

Relief hit Anita so hard she had to sit down. Her legs felt weak. "Oh, thank God."

"She's fine," Tony assured her. "She'll be home soon."

Anita hung up and quickly typed a message to the group.

Amanda's safe! She's at the police station but okay.

Sylvania's phone buzzed. She read the message and let out a deep breath.

Thank God! So glad she's okay. Let us know if you need anything.

She set her phone down and turned to her desk. Rolls of fabric lay open, soft silk draping over the table. She ran her fingers over a rich blue piece, picturing it flowing down the runway at New Haven Fashion Week.

There was still so much work to do. But at least, for now, one thing was right.

She gripped a pencil and scribbled last-minute ideas in her notebook. She could hear faint noises as people were coming up and down the stairs, and everyone seemed busy preparing for the upcoming fashion show. After a while she sighed, rubbing her temples.

"Tomorrow is the big day."

Her eyes turned to the mannequin beside her, dressed in one of her finest creations. A stunning white gown with beautiful decorations shined under the soft glow of the light. She stood, walking around the dress like a predator analyzing its prey.

"Is it perfect? Will they see the beauty I see?"

Her stomach twisted. She ran a hand through her hair, staring at the dress like it held all the answers.

"What if they don't like it? What if they say I'm not good enough?"

Her heart pounded, and she shook her head, pushing those thoughts away.

"I have worked too hard for doubt now. I have to believe in myself."

She straightened her posture, taking in a deep breath. Her hands smoothed over the fabric one last time before she stepped back, exhaling slowly.

"This is it. No turning back."

Meanwhile, across town, Russell Thompson and Fernando Santos were having lunch at 'Rus Meals,' Russell's restaurant. The delicious smell of freshly cooked food was in the air. As they ate, Fernando leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smile.

"Russ, this place is the best. Every time I eat here, it's perfect. You've really built something special," Fernando said.

Russell smiled, cutting into his steak. "Thanks, Fernando. It wasn't easy, but hearing that makes it worth it."

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Fernando spoke again. "My jewelry shop's doing well too. Business is steady, and people love what I'm selling."

"That's great," Russell replied. "My restaurant did well last week too, but you never know in this business."

He took a sip of wine and added, "I'm lucky to have Mrs. Allison working here. She runs everything smoothly when I can't be around."

Fernando chuckled. "I'm a bit of a control freak. I like handling everything myself."

Russell smiled. "I used to feel the same way, but with Mrs. Allison, I can relax."

As they finished their lunch, Fernando asked, "Are you free tomorrow? We could catch up again."

Russell shook his head. "I'd love to, but I'm going to a fashion show at Flora Gardens. I'm thinking of hosting similar events at the restaurant here."

Fernando nodded. "Sounds fun, but I've already got plans to see a movie."

They stood up, shook hands, and headed to their cars. "Take care, Russ," Fernando said.

"You too, Fernando."

The next morning, Flora Gardens was alive with activity as preparations for the fashion show were underway. The open space was filled with beautiful flowers, neatly arranged along the walkways. Colorful tents and rows of chairs were set up in front of the runway, awaiting the audience. It was a bright and beautiful day.

Russell arrived, looking sharp in a tailored black suit. As he approached the seating area, an usher greeted him. "Welcome, Mr. Thompson. Your seat is right here, in the executive section."

"Thank you," Russell replied with a smile, taking his seat. He looked around, taking in the atmosphere. The crowd was filled with excitement as they waited for the show to begin. As he scanned the area, his eyes landed on a beautiful woman walking stylishly toward the backstage area. She was tall, with long dark hair, and wore a deep-red dress that shined in the sunlight. It was Sylvania Scarlet.

Russell couldn't take his eyes off her as she moved through the crowd, exchanging greetings with designers and models. Just before she proceeded, she briefly caught Russell's eyes, making his heart skip a beat. She quickly looked away, pretending to notice something else.

At that moment, Sylvania smiled when her friend Vivian handed her a glass of wine. "You look amazing, Sylvania. I can't believe you made that dress."

"Thanks, I wanted to create something special for today," Sylvania replied, feeling proud.

"You already stole the show," Vivian said, her eyes twinkling. "And look over there," she added, nodding toward the audience. "That guy can't stop looking at you."

Curious, Sylvania followed her friend's gaze and saw Russell. "Who is he?" she asked, feeling a flutter in her chest.

"That's Russell Thompson, the owner of this place, and the popular Rus Meals restaurant. He seems very interested in you," Vivian said with a smile.

Sylvania blushed slightly. "Oh, really...he's cute," she admitted.

As the runway lights dimmed and the music began, the crowd fell silent. The Master of Ceremony, Calisto Salem, welcomed everyone with a big smile.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Flora Gardens for an incredible day of fashion! Today, we're celebrating creativity, style, and artistry, brought to life by some of the best designers in the business!"

The audience cheered as the first model took the stage, showcasing a collection by Milla Anderson, known for her eco-friendly designs. Each outfit received applause, and Sylvania admired the creativity.

"I love how the fabric moves," Sylvania whispered to Vivian. "The designs are so bold yet stylish."

Vivian nodded. "Milla always has such a unique style."

After a few more collections, the Master of Ceremony returned to the stage. "Now, it's time for the much-anticipated collection by Sylvania Scarlet!"

The crowd buzzed with excitement as the first model stepped onto the runway, showcasing Sylvania's stunning designs. As each outfit was revealed, applause erupted across the venue. The collection was a mix of style and innovation, and the audience loved it.

Backstage, Sylvania gripped the curtain, her fingers trembling. Her heart pounded against her ribs as she peeked through the small gap. The runway lights bathed the final model as she took her last step.

The crowd erupted, their cheers crashing over Sylvania like a wave. Hands clapped together, voices shouted her name, and some even rose to their feet, applauding wildly.

Sylvania pressed a hand to her mouth, her chest tightening. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the dazzling stage before her. A shaky breath escaped her lips, half a laugh, half a sob.

"They love it... They really love it."

Her vision cleared just in time to see the final model take a majestic bow. The applause grew even louder, the sound vibrating through the walls.

Sylvania let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. Relief flooded her body, melting away the weeks of sleepless nights, the endless hours of stitching, cutting, and doubting.

She wiped a tear from her cheek, a bright, proud smile breaking across her face.

"I did it."

At the end of the show, Calisto returned to the stage with a card in his hand. "Now, the moment we've all been waiting for: the announcement of this year's Best Fashion Designer award!" he said.

Sylvania's palms grew sweaty, and her breath caught in her throat. She closed her eyes, sending up a silent prayer.

The audience held their breath as Calisto read the name. "The winner is... Sylvania Scarlet!"

The crowd cheered wildly as Sylvania made her way to the stage. Milla Anderson handed her the award, a beautiful gold medal shaped like a fashion scissor.

"Sylvania, your designs have inspired us all. Congratulations!" Milla said warmly.

With tears in her eyes, Sylvania accepted the medal and took the microphone. "Thank you, everyone. This award isn't just for me; it's for my amazing team and everyone who has supported me. I want to thank my fellow designers and my fans for believing in me. Fashion isn't just about clothes. It's about telling stories and showing who we are. To all the young designers out there, keep dreaming and never be afraid to be different."

The audience erupted into applause once again as Sylvania stepped off the stage, greeted by her team, who hugged her tightly. It was a moment she would never forget, a moment that marked her as one of the top fashion designers in the world.

"We did it again!" Vivian cheered, pulling Sylvania into a hug. "There's going to be a party tomorrow for sure!"

"Thank you, Vivian," Sylvania said, her heart full. "I couldn't have done this without all of you."

As the celebration buzzed around them, Russell Thompson approached Sylvania with a smile on his face. Vivian, noticing his arrival, excused herself, leaving Sylvania alone with him.

"Congratulations, Sylvania. You were amazing tonight," Russell said kindly.

Sylvania smiled, letting out a small laugh. "Thank you, Russell. That really means a lot."

Russell looked into her eyes, wanting to hold her attention. "I know we've already seen each other tonight, but I don't think we've been properly introduced."

She nodded and extended her hand. "I'm Sylvania Scarlet. Nice to meet you."

"Russell Thompson," he replied, shaking her hand with a firm but gentle grip. "You're a fashion designer, right?"

"Yes, I am," Sylvania said with a touch of pride in her voice. "Though honestly, I never thought I'd be doing this. My mother always told me to follow my heart."

"Well, she was right," Russell said, his smile widening. "You're really good at what you do."

"Thank you. I appreciate that." Sylvania paused for a moment, then asked, "Do you really own this place?"

Russell nodded. "Yes, I do. I run a few businesses, but this garden is something special to me."

"I've heard of your restaurant, Rus Meals," Sylvania said, her voice full of interest. "I've been there a few times, it's a lovely spot."

"Really? I'm glad to hear that," Russell said, clearly pleased. "We work hard to keep it welcoming."

Sylvania smiled, then asked, "Why did you name the garden Flora Gardens?"

Russell's eyes softened. "I always wanted to name my daughter Flora," he said quietly. "If I ever have one."

Sylvania raised an eyebrow, surprised. "So... you're not married?"

Russell chuckled softly. "No, not yet. But who knows? Maybe I'll meet someone soon." His eyes were on Sylvania as he said this, but his tone remained light, not pushing too hard.

Sylvania blushed slightly but laughed, feeling more at ease. "Well, I think you'll find someone when the time is right."

Russell grinned. "Maybe. But meeting you has definitely been the best part of my day."

Sylvania smiled back, feeling a gentle flutter in her chest. "You're very charming, Russell."

"And you're very easy to talk to, Sylvania. I hope this is just the beginning of our conversations," Russell replied with a smile.

Sylvania couldn't stop smiling at how open Russell was, her heart was beating faster. Before she could respond, he stepped closer with his hands in his pockets. "Can I drop you home tonight?" he asked, sounding casual.

"I have a friend waiting outside," she said, trying to hide her excitement.

Russell smiled. "I see. Would you like to meet again sometime?"

Sylvania's heart raced as she looked into his eyes. "I'd love to," she said softly.

"Great. Let's exchange numbers," he said, handing her his phone.

Sylvania took out her phone, and they quickly swapped numbers. The excitement of the evening was all around them as Sylvania looked toward the exit. She saw her friend, Vivian, waving at her from across the garden.

"I should go. My friend's leaving," Sylvania said softly.

"Okay," Russell nodded, smiling. "I'll call you tonight."

Sylvania smiled. "I'll be waiting." She gave him one last look before heading toward Vivian, who stood near her car.

As she walked through the crowd, a few people stopped to congratulate her. "Congratulations, Sylvania!" one woman said. "You deserve it!"

"Your designs were amazing," another added.

"Thank you," Sylvania said, smiling as she continued walking, though her mind was still on Russell.

When she reached Vivian, her friend hugged her tightly. "You were amazing tonight!" Vivian said proudly. "That medal looks perfect on you."

"Thanks, Viv," Sylvania said, smiling. "I'm so glad you were here."

They chatted for a minute before Vivian waved goodbye and drove off. Sylvania stood for a moment, looking back toward the garden. Russell was still watching her. When he saw her looking, he waved. She waved back with a smile and then walked to her car.

As she drove home, Sylvania felt herself at peace. Winning Best Fashion Designer of the Year for the second time in a row felt unreal. She couldn't stop smiling.

When she got home, she honked softly at the gate, and the guard waved as he opened it. Sylvania parked in the garage and got out. Coco, her fluffy dog, greeted her right away.

"Hey, Coco! Did you miss me?" she laughed, kneeling to pet him. Coco wagged his tail and barked happily.

After changing into something more comfortable, she fed Coco and took a quick shower. The warm water felt so good after her long day. Once she dried off, she put on her pajamas and made a simple dinner. As she ate, her phone rang; it was her mom.

"Hie, Mom!" Sylvania said cheerfully.

"Sylvania! I heard you won the award again! I'm so proud of you," her mother, Catherine, said, her voice filled with joy.

"Thanks, Mom. It still feels like a dream."

There was a pause before her mom spoke again, sounding a bit sad. "I'm sorry we couldn't be there today. Your dad and I really wanted to come."

Sylvania smiled softly. "It's okay, Mom. I know you wanted to be there."

"Your dad wants to talk to you," Catherine said, passing the phone.

"Sylvania!" her father, Morgan, said happily. "How's my girl?"

"I'm good, Dad. How are you?"

"I'm fine, but I wanted to be there. With all the news about mobsters and that fire at the Abibba building, I've been worried. The city doesn't feel safe anymore."

Sylvania sighed. "Dad, it's fine. Everything was safe today."

"Just be careful, Sylvania," Morgan said, sounding concerned. "The city isn't as safe as it used to be."

"I will, Dad. Don't worry."

"Alright," he said after a pause. "I'll let you talk to your mom again."

"Okay, Dad. Love you."

Her mother came back on the phone. "Take care of yourself, sweetheart. You're our only child, and we love you so much."

Sylvania smiled, feeling touched. "I will, Mom. Don't worry."

"Goodnight, darling."

"Goodnight, Mom."

After the call, Sylvania walked to her room and sat on the edge of her bed, the soft light from her lamp made the room feel warm. Her eyes rested on the shiny gold medal hanging on the wall. The words Best Fashion Designer sparkled under the light.

She reached out and touched it gently, her fingers running over the smooth edges. The cool metal felt real, yet unbelievable. A small, shaky laugh left her lips.

"Twice in a row... I really did it," she thought, shaking her head.

She caught her reflection in the glass of a photo nearby. She looked tired, but also proud. A smile formed on her lips, but her eyes were wet with unshed tears.

"All those late nights... all the hard work... it was worth it."

She held the medal tighter for a moment, remembering the long hours, the stress, and the times she almost gave up. But she didn't.

Letting out a deep breath, she closed her eyes, allowing herself to feel the joy, the pride, the relief.

Then, opening her eyes again, she whispered, "This is just the beginning."

Just then, her phone buzzed. It was a message from Russell: "Goodnight... looking forward to seeing you soon".

Sylvania smiled as she typed back: "Goodnight, Russell. I can't wait to see you too".

Feeling content, she checked on Coco, who was asleep in his basket. Smiling, she turned off the lights and threw herself on the bed. As she lay down, she thought about Russell; his smile, his laugh, and soon, she fell into a peaceful sleep.

The morning sun shone through the large windows of Zagaff Manscent's penthouse, lighting up the marble floor. The air smelled of cigar smoke and strong black coffee, but the coffee sat untouched on the table.

Zagaff leaned back in his leather chair, tapping his fingers slowly on the armrest. His dark eyes stared ahead, but his mind was busy.

"Victor Morano... still silent," he thought with a small smile. He had expected Victor to fight back after his men took everything from Abibba Building. But there was nothing. No calls, warnings, or any sign of revenge.

He picked up a silver knife from the table and spun it between his fingers. "Should I burn one of his casinos? Or put a bullet in one of his men?" His jaw tightened. He wanted Victor to feel weak, to see who really ruled New Haven now.

A noise pulled him from his thoughts. A newspaper on the table fluttered as the wind from the window brushed against it. Zagaff sighed and reached for it. He wasn't interested in the news, but a bold headline caught his eye.

"SYLVANIA SCARLET WINS BEST FASHION DESIGNER AWARD AGAIN!"

He flipped the pages open, scanning the article. And then he saw her.

A large picture of Sylvania Scarlet filled the page. She stood on a stage, smiling, holding a gold medal in her hands. Her eyes were filled with happiness. The article praised her talent, her hard work, and her stunning fashion designs.

But Zagaff wasn't reading anymore. His eyes were locked on her face.

His lips parted slightly. For the first time in a long while, he had nothing to say.

"She's beautiful," he murmured, leaning closer. He traced a finger along the edge of her printed photo, deep in thought.

"She's strong, successful... and untouchable." His heartbeat picked up.

The idea came before he could stop it. "I should meet her... no, I should have her."

He smiled, rubbing his chin. A woman like Sylvania deserved a man with power. Someone who could protect her, give her the world. And who had more power than The Don himself?

But just as quickly, another thought hit him. A cold, bitter truth.

Victor Morano.

The smile faded in a second. If Victor found out Zagaff liked someone, he would use it against him. Victor didn't just attack his enemies...he destroyed what they loved. He would make Sylvania a target.

Zagaff clenched his jaw. He knew this game too well.

"No." He folded the newspaper and threw it back on the table. His fingers rested on it for a moment before he pulled away.

He wouldn't go after her. It was too dangerous.

But even as he sat back in his chair, arms crossed, he couldn't get her face out of his mind.

Meanwhile...at her sister's house, Anita woke up to the smell of coffee. She stretched in bed, her thoughts on Amanda. Ever since Anita had arrived two days ago, Amanda hadn't mentioned the Abibba building fire. Anita knew something was wrong, but her sister stayed quiet.

A knock on the door broke her thoughts. "Auntie Anita, breakfast is ready!" her nephew Danny called.

"Coming, Danny," she answered with a smile.

Anita quickly dressed, smoothing her skirt, and walked to the dining room. Amanda, her husband Tony, and Danny were already seated. A chair was left for her with a cup of coffee and a plate of bacon and eggs.

"Good morning, sis," Amanda greeted.

"Morning," Anita replied, sitting down.

Before they started eating, Amanda said softly, "Let's say grace." They all bowed their heads as Amanda said a quick prayer.

They ate in silence, the only sound was the clink of forks. Anita watched Amanda, waiting for her to speak.

Tony spoke up first. "You can talk about it if you're ready."

Amanda hesitated. "I don't know if I can, but I'll try."

Turning to her son, she said, "Danny, take your toys outside, please."

"Okay, Mom," Danny said, grabbing his things and running outside.

Once he was gone, Amanda sighed. "It happened so fast, Anita." She took a deep breath.

Her voice was shaky, and she looked down at the table, as if she was reliving every terrifying moment.

"I was at work, just watching the surveillance cameras like I always do," Amanda began, her voice was soft but filled with fear. "Everything was normal, and then... all of a sudden, the screen just went black and white. It was like someone had switched it off." She paused, and at that time Anita and Tony exchanged concerned looks, their faces filled with sadness. "I didn't understand what was going on, but before I could even try to figure it out, I was about to call someone; and then..."

She swallowed hard, her voice breaking slightly as she continued. "These men... mobsters, wearing masks, burst inside. They were holding guns; pointing them at us. I could hear them shouting, telling everyone not to move. They said to put our hands up... I was so scared." Her voice trembled, and she hugged her arms to her chest, as if still trying to shield herself from the memory.

Anita leaned closer, with concern in her eyes, while Tony clenched his fists under the table, angered by what Amanda had gone through. Both of them were silent, not wanting to interrupt her, but their eyes were full of emotion; love, worry, and fear for Amanda.

Amanda took a shaky breath and continued. "Two of them walked right up to me. They demanded the keys to the safes... I don't know how they knew I had them, but they did. My hands were shaking so badly; I could barely think. But I reached into the drawer, trying not to make any sudden moves, and I gave them the keys." She paused, and Anita's eyes were on her sister, wondering why such a terrible thing could happen to her.