But he also imagined returning home without a paycheck.
He slowly bent down.
Chapter 2: The Line Adrian Refused to Cross
Adrian knelt beside the table.
His face burned.
He could hear the low murmur of the guests, the clink of glass, and the faint music coming from the speakers.
Vincent watched him with satisfaction.
"That's better."
Adrian reached toward the shoe.
Then he stopped.
He remembered his father.
Daniel Cole had been a quiet man who worked long hours and never spoke about himself as though he were better than anyone else. When Adrian was a child, Daniel had taken him to a small diner after work.
A waitress had accidentally spilled coffee on Daniel's coat.
She had apologized repeatedly.
Daniel had smiled and told her not to worry.
When Adrian asked why he had not complained, his father had said something he never forgot.
"People make mistakes, son. The way you treat them afterward tells everyone who you really are."
Adrian looked at Vincent's shoe.
Then he looked up.
"Sir, I made a mistake with the drink. I apologized. I'll replace it."
Vincent's smile faded.
"But I won't clean your shoe with my hands."
The room went completely silent.
Vincent stared at him.
"What did you say?"
Adrian rose slowly.
"I said I'm sorry for the mistake. But I won't do that."
Vincent stepped closer.
"You think you can refuse me?"
Adrian's hands trembled.
"I think I should be treated with respect."
A man at the next table lowered his glass.
Thomas began moving toward them.
"Mr. Moretti, perhaps we could—"
Vincent raised a hand.
"Stay where you are."
Thomas stopped.
Vincent grabbed Adrian by the front of his jacket.
"You have no idea who you're speaking to."
Adrian tried to pull away.
"Please let go."
Vincent shoved him backward.
Adrian stumbled into a chair. The chair scraped loudly across the floor.
Several guests stood.
Vincent turned toward them.
"Sit down."
They obeyed.
He looked back at Adrian.
"You're finished here."
Adrian straightened his jacket.
"Then I'll collect my things."
Vincent laughed.
"You don't leave until I say you can."
He reached for Adrian's collar again.
And then a voice came from the far end of the room.
"Let him go."
It was not loud.
It did not need to be.
Every person in the lounge recognized the voice.
Chapter 3: The Man at the Top of the Stairs
The doors opened.
Don Salvatore Moretti entered the lounge.
He wore a black suit and a white shirt. A red flower rested in his lapel. His silver hair was neatly combed, and a polished cane rested in his right hand.
Four bodyguards followed him.
The guests rose from their seats.
Vincent released Adrian.
"Father."
Salvatore did not answer.
He looked at Adrian first.
Then he looked at Vincent.
"Did you hear me?"
Vincent stepped back.
"Yes."
"Then let him stand."
Adrian moved away from the table.
Salvatore descended the short staircase into the lounge. His bodyguards remained behind, positioned near the balcony.
He stopped in front of Vincent.
"What happened?"
Vincent adjusted his jacket.
"The waiter made a mistake."
Salvatore glanced at the whiskey.
"Then why were you holding him?"
"He was disrespectful."
Salvatore turned toward Adrian.
"Is that true?"
Adrian swallowed.
"I poured the drink he requested, sir. Mr. Moretti said it was wrong. I apologized and offered to replace it. Then he asked me to clean his shoe."
Salvatore looked down at Vincent's shoe.
"With what?"
Adrian hesitated.
"With my hands."
A quiet murmur passed through the room.
Salvatore's face remained calm.
He turned toward his son.
"You asked a man to kneel because you were unhappy with a drink?"
Vincent lowered his voice.
"Father, this is a private matter."
Salvatore's expression hardened.
"Then you should have handled it privately."
He turned toward the guests.
"Everyone may sit."
No one moved.
Salvatore looked around.
"I said everyone may sit."
The guests slowly returned to their chairs.
Salvatore faced Vincent again.
"Do you believe that the people who work here are beneath you?"
Vincent shook his head.
"Of course not."
"Then why did you treat him that way?"
Vincent opened his mouth.
No answer came.
Salvatore turned to Adrian.
"What is your name?"
"Adrian Cole."
"How long have you worked here?"
"Three weeks."
"Do you have family?"
"My mother."
Salvatore nodded.
"Does she know what happened tonight?"
"No, sir."
"Good. She should not have to worry because someone with too much pride forgot how to behave."
Vincent's face tightened.
"You're making me look foolish."
Salvatore looked at him.
"No, Vincent. You did that yourself."
Chapter 4: A Name from the Past
Salvatore gestured toward the manager.
"Thomas. Bring me the employment records."
Thomas hurried away.
Vincent shook his head.
"Father, this is ridiculous."
Salvatore ignored him.
When Thomas returned with the folder, Salvatore opened it and scanned the pages.
Then he stopped.
"Adrian Cole."
"Yes, sir?"
"Your father's name was Daniel Cole?"
Adrian's eyes widened.
"Yes. You knew him?"
Salvatore closed the folder.
"I knew him very well."
Adrian stared at him.
"My father never told me he knew you."
Salvatore looked toward the windows.
"Your father was a good man."
Vincent frowned.
"What are you talking about?"
Salvatore continued.
"Daniel worked for our family many years ago. He was a driver. He was reliable, honest, and brave."
Adrian's throat tightened.
"My father died when I was sixteen."
"I know."
Salvatore's voice softened.
"I sent flowers to his funeral. But I should have done more."
Adrian looked down.
For years, he had believed that his father had lived an ordinary life. He knew Daniel had worked hard, but he had never heard anyone speak of him with such respect.