Marcus stood motionless, his broad shoulders tense beneath his black button-down shirt. A dark, jagged crimson stain marred the fabric over his chest, but his expression remained a mask of stoic professionalism—a mixture of deep embarrassment and suppressed resentment. He didn't flinch, nor did he offer a defensive stammer. He simply stared down at the ruined table, knowing all too well that arguing with Victoria Sterling—the daughter of the restaurant's primary corporate investor—was a battle no employee ever won.
Before Marcus could utter a formal apology, a soft rustle of fabric announced the arrival of Chloe, a young server who had been assisting with the table service. Dressed in her classic black uniform with her dark hair tied back in a neat ponytail, Chloe stepped forward, her eyes wide with a mix of alarm and protective instinct.
"Ma'am, please do not speak to him that way," Chloe intervened, her voice trembling slightly but carrying a firm, courageous note that startled everyone within earshot.
Victoria whipped her head around, her eyes widening in sheer disbelief. For a moment, she looked as though she had been struck. That a mere waitress—a cog in the grand machinery of Le Mirage—would dare to talk back to her was an affront of cosmic proportions.
"Stay out of this!" Victoria snapped, her voice escalating to a screech as she thrust a sharp, manicured finger inches from Chloe’s face. "He needs to be fired! This incompetence is unacceptable!"