Between Worlds
The bar was warm and dimly lit, the kind of place where conversations felt private even when the room was full.
Bella sat at her usual spot near the end of the bar, a glass of white wine in front of her. The bartender, Mark, had poured it without asking. He knew what she drank now.
Daniel was already there when she arrived.
He'd been waiting, sitting two stools down, nursing a beer. When she walked in, his face had lit up in a way that made something in her chest tighten.
"Hey," he'd said, standing slightly as she approached. "I was hoping you'd show up."
"Long day," Bella had replied, settling onto her stool. "Needed a drink."
"Same."
That had been twenty minutes ago.
Now they were deep in conversation, the kind that flowed easily between people who were starting to know each other. Not the careful, guarded exchanges of strangers, but something more comfortable.
"So you're telling me," Daniel said, leaning forward with a grin, "that you've never seen The Godfather?"
"Never," Bella said, taking a sip of her wine. "I know, I know. It's a crime."
"It's the crime," Daniel said. "How is that even possible? It's like saying you've never had pizza."
"I've had pizza."
"But not The Godfather."
"Not The Godfather."
Daniel shook his head in mock disbelief. "We need to fix that. Immediately."
Bella laughed—a real laugh, light and unguarded. "Is that your way of asking me to watch a three-hour movie with you?"
"Maybe." Daniel's smile softened. "Or maybe I just want an excuse to spend more time with you."
Bella's chest tightened again. She looked down at her wine, swirling it gently in the glass.
"What about you?" she asked, deflecting. "What's your guilty pleasure? The thing you watch when no one's around?"
Daniel hesitated, then grinned sheepishly. "Cooking shows."
"Cooking shows?"
"Yeah. Like, competitive baking. The Great British Bake Off. That kind of thing."
Bella raised an eyebrow. "You watch people make cakes?"
"It's relaxing," Daniel said defensively. "And they're really good at it. You ever seen someone make a croquembouche? It's art."
Bella laughed again, and for a moment, she forgot where she was. Forgot the weight she carried. Forgot the world waiting for her outside.
"Okay," she said. "I'll give you that. Croquembouche is impressive."
"Thank you."
They talked about other things. Books they'd read. Places they wanted to travel. Daniel told her about a trip he'd taken to Iceland years ago, how the northern lights had looked like something out of a dream. Bella told him about a weekend she'd spent in Napa, back when her life had been simpler.
It was easy. Comfortable.
And then Daniel's expression shifted.
"Can I ask you something?" he said quietly.
Bella's guard went up immediately. "Sure."
Daniel looked down at his beer, his fingers tracing the condensation on the glass. "I told you I was married before, right?"
"You mentioned it."
"It didn't work out." He paused, his jaw tightening slightly. "She cheated on me."
Bella's breath caught. She didn't say anything.
"I thought we were solid," Daniel continued. "I thought we had something real. But I guess I was wrong." He looked up at her, his eyes searching. "Have you ever been married? Or in a relationship?"
Bella's throat was tight.
"Yes," she said carefully.
Daniel waited, but she didn't expand.
"Was it serious?" he asked.
"It was."
"What happened?"
Bella looked down at her wine. The question hung in the air between them, heavy and loaded.
What happened?
She could tell him the truth. Could tell him about Jack. About the warehouse. About the blood and the violence and the way her life had spiraled into something she didn't recognize.
But she didn't.
"It just didn't work out," she said finally.
Daniel nodded slowly. He didn't push. Didn't pry.
"I get it," he said. "Sometimes things just... fall apart."
Bella looked at him—really looked at him. At the kindness in his eyes. The way he listened without judgment. The way he made her feel like a person instead of a tool.
This is what normal feels like.
And it terrified her.
***
Bella set down her glass and stood. "I should get going."
Daniel blinked, surprised. "Already?"
"Long day tomorrow," Bella said, forcing a smile. "Early meetings."
"Right. Of course." Daniel stood as well, reaching for his wallet. "Let me get your drinks."
"You don't have to—"
"I want to."
Daniel pulled out his card and gestured to Mark. "Can I get the check for both of us?"
Mark looked at Bella, then back at Daniel. His expression was carefully neutral.
"The lady doesn't have to pay," Marcus said.
Daniel frowned. "What?"
"The lady doesn't have to pay," Mark repeated. "House policy."
Daniel looked at Bella, confused. "House policy?"
Bella's stomach twisted. She forced a casual shrug. "I come here a lot. Mark takes care of me."
"That's... generous."
"He's a good guy."
Mark didn't say anything. He just wiped down the bar, his movements deliberate.
Bella knew the truth.
Jack owned this bar. Had bought it six months ago through one of his shell companies. And he'd made it very clear—Bella never paid. Not for drinks. Not for food. Not for anything.
And if anyone tried to charge her, they'd answer to him.
Daniel paid for his own drinks and left a tip. Then he followed Bella toward the door, his hand hovering near the small of her back but not quite touching.
Outside, the air was cool and crisp. The parking lot was mostly empty, the streetlights casting long shadows across the asphalt.
"Bella," Daniel said as they walked toward the cars.
She stopped, turning to face him.
"I know we've just been doing this casual thing," he said. "Meeting here, talking. But I was wondering..." He hesitated, then smiled. "Would you want to go on a real date with me? Not just bar talk. Dinner. Maybe a movie. Something normal."
Bella's heart was pounding.
Something normal.
When was the last time someone had asked her on a date? When was the last time someone had looked at her like she was worth the effort?
"I..." She trailed off, her mind racing.
Say no. You can't drag him into this. You can't—
"Yes," she said.
Daniel's face lit up. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Okay." He grinned, boyish and genuine. "Okay. I'll text you. We'll figure out a day."
"Sounds good."
They reached the parking lot, and Bella spotted her car near the back.
And leaning against it, arms crossed, was Hela.
Bella's blood went cold.
"I can manage from here," she said quickly, turning to Daniel. "Thanks for tonight."
Daniel glanced toward her car, his brow furrowing. "You sure? I can walk you—"
"I'm sure."
He hesitated, then nodded. "Okay. I'll text you."
"Sounds good."
Daniel walked toward his car, glancing back once before climbing inside.
Bella waited until he was out of earshot, then turned toward Hela.
***
Hela's eyes followed Daniel as he settled into the driver's seat. She didn't move. Didn't speak. Just watched.
"Why are you here?" Bella asked, her voice tight.
Hela finally looked at her, a slow smile spreading across her face. "Jack would be pissed."
Bella's jaw clenched. "Why. Are you. Here."
"You're late on your payment."
Bella's stomach dropped. The deal. The one she'd made in the hospital, when Jack was broken and bleeding and she'd needed Hela's help.
The debt.
"I'll pay," Bella said. "I just need one more week."
"One more week." Hela pushed off the car, her movements slow and deliberate. "That's what you said last time."
"My business is slow. I'm working on it."
"Your business." Hela's smile widened. "You mean the skincare thing? The little boutique you're running?"
"Yes."
"Why don't you just use the money from King's Paradise?" Hela asked. "You're still pulling in revenue, aren't you? Jack's operation is doing well."
Bella's hands clenched into fists at her sides. "It's blood money."
Hela raised an eyebrow. "Blood money."
"Jack turned it into blood money. I don't want to rely on it."
Hela laughed—a sharp, bitter sound. "Then give it to me. I've got plenty of uses for it."
Bella didn't respond.
Hela took a step closer. Then another.
Behind Bella, Dorn shifted. The big man had been standing near the edge of the parking lot, silent and watchful. Now he moved forward, his hand going to his waist.
Hela glanced at him, her smile never faltering. "Calm down, big guy. I'm not stupid enough to hurt Bella."
Dorn didn't relax.
Hela's gaze shifted past Bella, toward Daniel's car. He was still sitting there, watching them through the windshield.
"But he's fair game," Hela said softly.
Bella's blood turned to ice. "Don't touch him."
"Why not?"
"He's innocent."
Hela scoffed. "Innocent. That's rich, coming from you."
"Hela—"
"You entered this world of your own free will," Hela said, her voice sharp. "You built King's Paradise with Jack. You knew what you were doing when you first got involved. So stop being a hypocrite."
Bella's throat was tight. "I never thought Jack would take it this far."
"Didn't you?"
"No." Bella's voice cracked. "Murders. Drugs. The violence—so close to home. That was never in my plans. I wanted nothing to do with it."
Hela stared at her for a long moment. Then she glanced back at Daniel's car.
"We'll see how long you can keep up this Holy Act," she said. "But in the meantime, I want my money."
She turned and walked toward a black sedan parked a few spaces away. The driver's side door opened, and Markus leaned out, his expression unreadable.
Hela climbed into the passenger seat, and the car pulled away, disappearing into the night.
Bella stood there, her hands shaking.
A moment later, Daniel's car rolled up beside her. He lowered the window, his face concerned.
"Everything okay?" he asked.
Bella forced a smile. "Everything's fine."
Daniel didn't look convinced, but he nodded. "Okay. Text me when you get home?"
"I will."
He drove off, his taillights fading into the distance.
Bella stood alone in the parking lot, the weight of both worlds pressing down on her.
Normal.
She'd said yes to a date. To something normal.
But Hela was right.
She'd built this world with Jack. She'd known what she was doing.
And now she was trapped in it.
Bella climbed into her car, her hands still shaking, and drove home.