Vincent's eyes shifted past Oscar.
The driver, Mr. Halden was not just supervising the pickup instead he was unloading.
Two large wooden crates were being slid down from the truck's interior, marked with a faded blue stamp Vincent didn't recognize. Not flour. Not sugar. Not any supplier brand he had seen in the storeroom earlier.
Elise noticed his gaze.
"Seasonal stock," she said smoothly, though he hadn't asked. "Imported."
Vincent gave a small nod and stepped forward to assist.
The first crate touched the ground with a dull thud as it was heavy.
He felt the true weight of it through the wood be dense and compact, something inside packed tighter than pastries could ever be.
He adjusted his grip, forcing a strained exhale. "Where do you want it?"
"Storage," Clara answered lightly. "Back room. Third door."
Oscar was still standing half-turned toward Rose.
The air between them had cooled.
Rose's expression didn't change at Oscar's sharp reply. If anything, she looked faintly amused.
"You're right," she said calmly. "You don't owe me anything."
Her eyes flicked to the crate Vincent was lifting.
"But you should be careful what you attach yourself to." Oscar's face was still bland with a little discomfort in his eyes.
Rose tilted her head slightly. "Meaning people drift into places like this thinking it's temporary."
Before Oscar could respond, the driver called out, "Rose, grab the manifest."
She stepped away without another word.
Vincent carried the crate toward the back corridor, Oscar quickly joining him with the second.
The moment they turned the corner and were out of sight, Oscar muttered, "She's fishing way too obvious."
"Yes," Vincent replied quietly.
"And that wasn't pastry weight."
"No."
They pushed through the third door into a narrower storage room.
Shelves lined the walls—flour sacks, sugar, glass jars of preserved fruit. But the far end of the room was different. Cooler. Metal shelving. Locked cabinet.
Vincent lowered the crate carefully, letting it hit the ground with a convincing heaviness.
Oscar crouched, pretending to adjust his grip while his fingers brushed the edge of the lid.
Solid oak.
Reinforced at the corners.
No bakery stamps.
"Imported what?" Oscar whispered.
Vincent's head tilted slightly with a pause following as he listened.
Footsteps more like two sets.
Not light like Clara or Élise.
The driver stepped into the doorway.
Rose stood just behind him.
"You can leave it there," Mr. Halden said easily. "We'll handle the rest."
Vincent straightened.
"Sure."
He stepped back, wiping his hands on a cloth.
Rose's eyes dropped briefly to the crate, then lifted to Vincent's face.
There was something different in her gaze now.
Less curiosity and more assessment.
The driver crouched and tapped twice against the side of the crate.
A hollow knock.
Then he reached into his coat pocket not for paperwork rather for a small metal key.
Oscar's pulse ticked up, "so the lock wasn't decorative". He thought.
Rose noticed Oscar watching and spoke up, " what are you still doing her" her voice this time was cold unlike her soft tone.
Oscar didn't answer and sile.
The driver paused before unlocking it and looked at Vincent.
"You boys planning to stay long?"
Vincent met his eyes steadily and gave a small laugh then walked away with Oscar.
The driver gave a noncommittal grunt.
Rose stepped closer to the crate but didn't touch it.
Her voice lowered, calm but edged with meaning.
Silence filled the storage room.
After they left, the lid lifted just an inch before the driver paused and closed it again.
"Later," he muttered. "Upstairs needs space cleared first."
He stood and pocketed the key.
"Boys! We need the counter restocked!" Elise voice could heard as they walked to the surface of the bakery.
The driver picked up one end of the crate effortlessly way too effortlessly for a civilian deliveryman and brought out a crate of meat and butter
Oscar noticed.
Clara smiled at the driver and said "your strength is still amazing as usual"
"Yeah, but you're lying about the work out. I've been working out but look am still skinny" one of the workers lamented.
" you're just not putty enough effort." Mr Halden laughed then pointed at Vincent " if you indeed work out you'd have same build as that newbie there"
"Yeah right." he scoffed
Halden laughed along with the rest of the workers while Vincent could only give an awkward smile.
"When Marielle comes tell her the factory workers have a lot of orders by the end of tomorrow."
"Yes." Elise answered them rubbed her temples already feeling stressed from having to work overtime for the day.
Oscar ran a hand through his hair. "We working till evening right?."
Clara laughed " I wish it was so but it seems you guys are out of luck as it's till midnight" she lamented then urged them to clean up the area while they prepared more baking cans for use.
"I was thinking this was just a local bakery," he murmured quietly.
" You know I can hear you ." Elise stared at him.
Just when they thought all had quite down the front of the bakery, laughter rose again as Halden happened to slip trying to enter his truck. The ovens hummed. The bell chimed as a customer entered.
Normal and warm
Upstairs, Maison Marielle waited like a polished stage set then brought out her flip phone to dial a number.