Mean Girls Mocked The Chubby Baker Until The Mafia Boss Walked In And Called Her His WIFE!
No one believed a 22-year-old baker with a flower in her hair could possibly catch the city’s most notorious gang leader.
They laughed, they pointed, and they mocked her weight until he walked in. Jaime Gallagher didn’t fit the mold of Tribeca’s upper class in a neighborhood where women lived on vegetable juices, pilates, and whispers of aphrodisiacs.
Ja, whom everyone called Penny, was an unashamed exception. She was fat, not curvy, not curvy, but truly, undeniably fat.
She carried her 250-pound frame with quiet grace, her soft belly pressed against the ties of her linen apron, her thick thighs rubbing together after 14-hour shifts, and her round face always flushed red from the heat of the industrial ovens.
Penny owns Sweetbrier Confections, a high-end bakery tucked away on a cobblestone street, which has almost inadvertently become New York City’s most exclusive dessert spot.
Her croissants rival those at Balthazar, and she recently served a private charity gala for the Rockefeller Foundation. But despite her undeniable culinary talent for the long-established wealthy elite and newly rich influencers who frequent her shop, Penny is just a chubby maid.
Her shop is a sanctuary of burnt vanilla French sugar and roasted espresso. It’s also a shark tank. Every Tuesday morning, precisely at 10 a.m., Madison Hayes and Casey Kensington push open the heavy glass doors. Madison is the heiress to Hayes Equity, a multi-billion dollar venture capital firm.
Casey was a fashion PR director who practically lived in Burgdorf Goodman. Both were slender, impeccably manicured, and utterly ruthless. “Good morning, Penny,” Madison said slowly, adjusting her Birkin bag on her pointed shoulder.
Her eyes lazily swept up and down Penny’s flower-covered figure, deliberately lingering on her heavy hips and the double chin that appeared when Penny looked down at the pastry counter. “Have you tried Claire’s new shop yet?
You look more radiant than usual today.” Casey giggled, picking up a delicate raspberry tart with silver tongs. Oh, Maddie, leave her alone.
But there must be someone in charge of quality control. Looking at the number of people she had, I guess she was in charge of the entire bakery. Penny maintained a calm expression, sliding a box of white pastries across the marble counter.
She was used to it. Harsh words, sarcastic health advice, feigned anxiety about her blood pressure. Growing up obese meant her skin was as thick as cake frosting.
That’s $45 in total, Madison. Cash or card?
Card? Madison snapped, tossing her shiny black Ammex card onto the counter. “You know, Penny, my personal trainer at Equinox,
is having a special promotion.
I can give you his number. It’s really worrying to see you staggering behind that counter. I mean, what kind of clothes are you looking for? Does Lane Bryant make chef’s uniforms?” Penny took a deep breath, swiped her card. “I had them custom-made, Madison.”
“Have a good day.” As the two women walked out, leaving behind a trail of expensive Chanel perfume, Penny let out a shaky sigh, her shoulders slumping.
“No matter how much she loved her body, the taunts still hurt her. She loved her soft curves. She loved the warm, comfortable feeling of her body.”
The car followed. Penny was there working the night shift to finish a wedding cake. She didn’t scream. She didn’t call the police.
She calmly locked the door, handed him a clean kitchen towel, and poured him a cup of black coffee. Dominic had expected fear, disgust, or at least a barrage of questions.
Instead, he found peace. He found a woman with a soft, full figure and warm brown eyes that made him feel at peace.
He began visiting her secretly. Late at night, the fearsome mafia boss would sit in the back of the bakery, eating fresh cinnamon bread
and watching his beautiful, plump baker work her magic.
He loved her appetite. He loved her softness. And he protected her fiercely. Six weeks ago, in a completely private ceremony at a secluded Hamptons estate, Dominic placed a huge, perfectly cut hexagonal diamond ring on Penny’s finger.
She kept it hidden on a chain under her shirt while working.
They were waiting for the right moment to go public after Dominic completed his tumultuous merger with a rival corporation.
Penny was now Mrs. Dominic Russo, but to the mean girls of Manhattan, she was still just a punching bag, and they were about to
push their luck too far.
A week later, the bell on the bakery door rang loudly. Penny was meticulously shaping delicate buttercream roses when the shop was suddenly burst into by a boisterous crowd. It was Madison Hayes standing between Casey and three other women carrying shopping bags from high-end boutiques on Fifth Avenue.
Penny Madison clapped her hands, the sharp sound echoing in the cozy space. “I need your attention. Remove the frosting.” Penny wiped her hands on her apron, feeling the heavy ring pressing against her collarbone beneath her shirt. “How can I help you, Madison?” “I’m getting married,” Madison declared smugly, extending her left hand to show off the dazzling, flamboyant diamond ring. “And I need the most amazing cake, low in starch, gluten-free, dairy-free, sugar-free, that you can miraculously make.
We’re having a grand engagement party at the Plaza Hotel this Friday. 400 guests.” Penny blinked. Madison, Friday, only three days away. I can’t design, bake, and deliver a custom cake for 400 people in that timeframe. I’m already booked up.
Madison’s smile vanished, her eyes turning cold. Sorry, I think you don’t understand.
I’m paying you handsomely. And frankly, considering you look like you’ve eaten half your cake before sunrise,
I think you’d welcome the extra money to, I don’t know, pay for a gastric bypass surgery.
The bakery fell silent. Silence. A few regulars at the corner table stopped talking, turning to watch the scene. Penny felt the blood rush to her cheeks, a wave of emotion. A burning mix of shame and anger surged through her. “My weight has nothing to do with my schedule,” Penny said, her voice trembling slightly despite her best efforts to sound calm. “I can’t bake, Madison. Please leave.” “You arrogant fat cow,” Casey interrupted, stepping forward. “Do you know who Madison’s fiancé is? He’s powerful. He’s dangerous. He runs half the development projects in Queens.
You’re just a respected luncheon. You’re not allowed to say no to us.” Just then, the glass door swung open again. A man entered, dressed in an expensive but somewhat flashy suit. He slicked his hair back and looked haughty.
“Honey, what’s up?” the man asked, wrapping his arm around Madison’s waist. Liam. Madison pouted, leaning against him. This chubby baker refused to bake our engagement cake. She was so disrespectful.
Penny recognized Liam immediately. She had never spoken to him, but she had seen his face. Dominic had shown her a
Facing what? Penny held her ground, though her heart pounded in her chest. She wasn’t afraid of Liam. She knew exactly who he was. And more importantly, she knew exactly who she was. But the public humiliation, the venomous remarks about her body, the absolute authority—it all suffocated her. “I said no,” Penny replied, her voice firm.
Liam’s face contorted with anger. He reached across the counter aggressively, snatched a huge three-tiered display cake that Penny had spent six hours decorating, and slammed it down. The cake fell from the marble counter, shattering on the spotless tile floor, creating a tragic, disgusting scene of ruined frosting and a broken base. Madison and Casey burst into malicious laughter. Ouch.
Liam smirked. Looks like you’ll have to do some cleanup, Porky. Now, back to our order. Before Liam could finish his sentence, the atmosphere in the bakery changed. It wasn’t a small change. The air seemed to freeze instantly—the chatter from the street outside was completely muffled.
Three large men in black suits walked through the front door, silently locking it behind them and flipping the “open” sign to “closed.”
They didn’t say a word. They just stood close together, blocking the exit, their hands ominously tucked inside their jackets. Madison’s laughter choked in her throat. Casey took a step back, suddenly looking tiny. Liam turned, his smug smile vanishing as he noticed the large number of security personnel. Then the crowd parted.
Dominic Russo walked in. He wore a custom-tailored charcoal suit that perfectly hugged his broad shoulders, and a black silk shirt unbuttoned at the collar. His dark eyes, usually cold and calculating, now blazed with a terrifying, deadly rage. He exuded an aura of absolute power and impending violence. Liam’s face turned pale. He looked as if he’d just seen a ghost. He immediately dropped his arms to his sides, his knees slightly buckled. “Mr. Russo,” Liam stammered, his voice trembling like a frightened child. “I… I didn’t know you frequented this area, boss.”
“We just… We just left.” Dominic didn’t even look at Liam. He didn’t look at Madison, who was clutching her Birkin bag…to her chest like a shield, or Casey, who was trembling. Dominic’s gaze was fixed solely on Penny. He watched…her flushed face, the unshed tears of disappointment in her eyes, and the ruined masterpiece cake lying on the floor. His jaw…clenched, a dangerous muscle twitching in his cheek.
He walked slowly past the terrified wealthy women, his expensive leather shoes screeching on the ruined frosting. He circled around the counter, invading Penny’s private space, and did something that made everyone in the room hold their breath.
Dominic raised his hand, gently cupping Penny’s soft cheeks. He bent down and kissed her forehead with a reverence almost bordering on adoration. He turned, still holding Penny’s ample waist with one arm, pulling her close. His dark, murderous gaze finally fixed on Liam and the trembling, ill-tempered girls. Liam, Dominic said, his voice dangerously low, almost a whisper.
But it echoed like thunder in the silent bakery.
“Yes, boss,” Liam mumbled, sweating profusely. “Can you explain this to me?”
Dominic muttered, tightening his grip on Penny’s protective hand. “What, are you threatening my wife?”
Silence enveloped the room. Liam’s face lost all its arrogance, turning a sickly pale gray.
The word “wife” hung in the air, faintly smelling of sugar, like a grenade with its pin pulled. Madison Hayes, still clutching her extremely expensive Birkin bag, stared at Dominic Russo with wide eyes, completely bewildered by what was happening.
Casey Kensington held her breath completely, her meticulously groomed hands trembling noticeably at her sides.
