XANDER VITTORIO LOVE STORY

Alexander Vittorio POV

(Twenty years old...)

The aroma hangs heavy in the air, the delicious bread smells luring me to the kitchen where I find Mama and Tanya admiring the pineapple honey cake they just baked.

It's my favorite smell in the world – Mama baking in the kitchen. It's home.

The moment Mama spots me, she gives me a stern scowl. "Don't you dare try to steal a slice young man, it's for after dinner."

It's Marc Vincent's birthday today. My brother is three years older than me. We haven't seen much of him over the past years as he's been training in Palawan Island to take his place in the Filipino Mafia called Demonyo Gang. With my father being a boss, it's only natural that we follow in his footsteps.

I take a seat at the table, eyeing the cake like it's my last meal.

"Do you want coffee?" Tanya asks me.

"Please." I smile at the girl who's like a little sister to me.

My parents adopted Maryo and Tanya Peters, and even though things were rocky at first, Maryo is now my best friend.

I watch as Tanya makes the coffee the way I like it, creamy and sweet, and smile again when she places the beverage in front of me.

"Thanks, T." After I savor my first sip of caffeine for the day, I ask, "Did you bake only one cake?"

It's normal for Mama to be up at the crack of dawn when it's one of our birthdays. And she always bakes enough for a small village not only baking but cooking more recipes for the occasion.

Mama shakes her head while trying to hide the smile tugging at her mouth. She cuts a huge slice out of the freshly baked cake. "You'll live on pastries and desserts if I give you half a chance." Still, she plates the slice and pushes it closer to me. "Only one slice."

I lean closer and take a deep breath, my mouth watering from the aroma. "I can't promise anything," I chuckle. "This is why you bake extra." I give Mama a thankful smile. "You love me too much to let me suffer until dinner time."

"Hmm." Her eyes are fixed on me as I take the first bite.

When the taste of cream, pineapple and cinnamon explode over my tongue, I let out a satisfied groan. My eyes close as I savor the goodness of my mother's baking. "Perfect."

Excitedly, Tanya claps her hands. "Really? You like it?"

My eyebrows fly up, and I swallow before asking, "Did you bake this one all by yourself?"

She nods, pride dancing in her exciting eyes.

"Well, little sister," I nod my approval, "it's exactly how I like it."

Tanya lets out a little shriek before falling onto the chair next to me. "Tell me how it tastes. Is there enough cream? Did I make the dulce de leche right? Not too much cinnamon?"

I lift a hand and