#chapter nine

It was just coffee.

And maybe a conversation.

And maybe also the way she smiled at him, like he wasn’t the kind of man who had blood on his hands.

But mostly the coffee.

Lando leaned against the counter, watching as she poured hot water over freshly ground beans, her movements quick and practiced.

He took a sip, savoring the taste—strong, a little sweet, just how he liked it.

She watched him, her head tilted slightly as she seemed to contemplate something. “Do you read? Are you really not a book kinda guy?”

Lando raised an eyebrow, brought out of his stupor. “What?”

Y/N gestured toward the bookshelves lining the café. “I mean, you come here for coffee, sure, but I’ve never seen you even look at the books.”

Lando exhaled a short laugh, shaking his head. “Not much of a reader, to be honest.”

She made a mock-offended face. “That’s tragic, really.”

Lando smirked. “What do you even read?”

Y/N’s eyes lit up, and Lando immediately regretted asking—because of course she had an answer, and of course she went on a long-winded tangent about different genres, authors, motifs. And God help him, he actually listened.

Lando didn’t mean to keep coming back.

The first time was just because he needed something to sober up. The second time—well, it was on the way. Again, he blamed the coffee.

It was the way she made it, the way the bitterness was perfectly balanced without needing too much sugar, the way the warmth lingered just right against the chill of the morning air.

Yet, somehow, Lando found himself there more often than he probably should.

His schedule was unpredictable—meetings in the early hours, transactions that stretched deep into the night, fights that left his knuckles raw. But still, he stopped by whenever he could, when time allowed.

Those other places didn’t come with a girl who looked at him like she believed his name really could be Liam, like she actually believed he was some normal guy who had begun to develop an unreasonable caffeine addiction.

With a moniker like The Reaper, Lando was more than used to people being afraid of him. Maybe that’s why it was so intriguing when she looked at him like she was somehow happy to see him.

How odd.

The shop was quiet this time of the afternoon, a few scattered customers tucked into corners with books or laptops. And behind the counter—

Y/N.

She was sorting through a stack of books, pushing up the bridge of her glasses with her wrist when they slid down. Her hair was a bit of a mess today, like she’d been running her fingers through it absentmindedly. The bell above the door chimed as he stepped inside, the warm aroma of espresso and vanilla filling his lungs.

Y/N looked up from where she was restocking the pastry case, her eyes lighting up in recognition. And when she looked up and saw him, she smiled. It was small, barely more than a twitch of her lips, but something about it was… nice. Authentic.

Y/N was behind the counter but her head lifted the second she saw him.

A slow, knowing smile spread across her lips. “Oh, look who it is,” she teased, grabbing a cup without even needing to ask what he wanted. 

“Miss me?” he smirked, leaning against the polished granite.

Y/N scoffed, but there was amusement in her expression. “You wish. I just think if you’re going to be here all the time, I should start charging you rent.”

Lando chuckled, shaking his head. He leaned against the counter, playing it cool. “That’s not how coffee shops work. What if I just like the coffee? Best coffee in town, this is.”

Y/N snorted. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“Not even a free drink?” he asked, dramatically incredulous. The numbers in his account in the Caymans indicated that he could probably purchase this whole shop several times over, but he decided that it was probably best not to mention that.

“Absolutely not.” She set a fresh cup in front of him anyway, watching as he took a sip. She hummed, scribbling something on a notepad before tearing it off and holding it out to him. “Well, I was going to offer you a frequent customer punch card, but if it’s just the coffee, maybe I won’t...”

Lando stared at the scrap of paper. Sure enough, she had doodled a crude little version of one—ten boxes, half of them already checked off, complete with a lopsided drawing of a coffee cup.

His lips twitched.

“You really made this just now?”

Y/N shrugged, grinning and clearly proud of herself, but pushing her glasses up her nose out of habit. “I like to be prepared.”

Lando let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he took it from her. “Yeah? ‘N what’s the prize when I fill it up?” “...My undying friendship?”

Friends?

His brain had short-circuited a little at the casual way she had said it, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like it was something he should have expected.

She didn’t say it with suspicion. Didn’t look at him like she was piecing together the cracks in his story. No, she just said it like it was obvious.

Like he was just some guy who wanted to spend time with her.

Lando had no business having a friend like her.

Lando exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “You’re something else, you know that?”

She crossed her arms. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

This wasn’t supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to make him smile like that. Lando, who spent so much of his time analyzing humans and their microexpressions, couldn’t believe he didn’t realize it sooner.

She thought they could be friends.

Before he could even think twice, he reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and slid it across the counter. “Give me your number,” he said smoothly. “In case I ever want to pre-order my coffee.”

Y/N hesitated for just a second, her eyes flickering to his before she let out a small laugh. “That’s the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard.”

“Did it work?”

She rolled her eyes, but still, she picked up the phone to type in her number. 

“This only solidifies our never ending friendship. You know that, right? ”

Much to his own disappointment, he smiled. “That so?”

She nodded. “I mean, I do know your coffee order by heart, and we’ve had like… five whole conversations. That’s practically marriage in some places.”

Lando forced another signature smirk, ignoring the way something unsettled coiled low in his stomach. “Didn’t realize we had a whole thing going on.”

Get it together, Norris.

Y/N laughed, propping her elbows onto the counter. “You’ve been here, what? Four times just this week?”

Three. But who was counting?

“That’s gotta mean something, I’m telling you,” she teased, eyes flickering with playfulness.

Lando huffed, shaking his head as he reached for his coffee. He could play this off. He would play this off. He didn’t do friends. Not real ones. The people in his life existed for a purpose. Business partners. Associates. Soldiers. A hierarchy built on control, loyalty, and utility.

Not this.

Not her.

And yet, he didn’t correct her.

Instead, he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You talk too much.”

Y/N only laughed.

“Sure,” he then drawled sarcastically, lifting the cup slightly in a mock toast. “Guess that makes us friends then.”

Y/N beamed, like she had won something, before typing her number in with an ease that made Lando feel sick with himself. She then held her phone out with that same expectant smile, waiting for him to type his own number in.

She had no idea what he was, who he was.

Lando looked down at the screen, at the saved contact and told himself he wasn’t making a mistake. Objectively, he knew he shouldn’t be doing this. He was being selfish. He was putting her in danger just by existing near her.

But he was good at lying.

Even to himself.

For now, he told himself that he could have both lives.

For now, he convinced himself that nothing would go wrong.