Chapter 109: Get Out Of My Sight

When his voice boomed across the peaceful pavilion, Patricia instinctively flinched, shrinking back into her seat like a caught schoolchild. Years of psychological manipulation and unfair authority had conditioned her to feel small under his glare, and for a split second, she looked like she wanted to just disappear.

I reached across the table and placed my hand firmly over hers. My grip was warm and steady. She looked at me, her eyes wide with panic, but I gave her a slow, reassuring nod, letting her know she wasn’t alone anymore.

Her boss noticed the movement, his eyes darting down to our hands before snapping up to my face with pure disdain. "And who the hell are you?" he sneered, stepping closer with a drink sloshing in his hand.

I didn’t bother standing up. I just leaned back, my hand still over Patricia’s, and looked him dead in the eye with complete coldness. "I’m someone who actually respects real talent," I said, my voice quiet, calm, and dangerous. "Something you clearly know nothing about."

The man let out a loud, obnoxious laugh that echoed off the sliding screens, shaking his head in mock pity.

"Oh, please!" he laughed, pointing a dismissive finger at us. "I saw you two at the front counter during check-in! You’re that pathetic waiter of mine and her little boyfriend riding the coattails of some lucky promotional voucher!"

He leaned in, his face red with arrogance as he tried to broke-shame us in front of the high-end guests. "You think winning a free ticket into a place like this suddenly makes you somebody? You’re both completely out of your depth. In a week, the luxury ends, and you’ll be right back in my kitchen wiping down tables for minimum wage, Patricia."

He raised his hand, pointing right at my chest to emphasize his point—but he never finished the motion.

Patricia snapped.

The hesitation and fear vanished from her eyes in a heartbeat. Seeing him try to demean and attack the person who had just saved her from her misery ignited a rage inside her he had never seen before.

She stood up so fast her chair scraped loudly against the floorboards, stepping directly between him and me, her face flushed with pure, unadulterated fury.

"Don’t you dare touch him!" she yelled, her voice cutting through the restaurant like a blade.

Patricia let loose. Months of built-up frustration, endless shifts, and unfair treatment poured out of her in a furious torrent. She called him out on his exploitation, his greed, and how he used a predatory contract to keep talented people locked in a miserable kitchen just to line his own pockets.

I stayed completely still, my hand resting calmly on the table, letting her have her moment. She needed this. Getting all that poisonous resentment out of her system was part of the healing process.

Her boss stood there, his face darkening as the surrounding guests turned to look. Realizing he had zero defense against her words, his expression twisted into pure malice. He decided to play dirty, aiming straight for the deepest, most agonizing wounds she had.

"Are you done throwing your little tantrum?" he sneered, his voice dripping with acid as he leaned in close. "You really think you’re hot stuff now, Patricia? Look at you. Your parents are dead, your own uncle couldn’t stand the sight of you and kicked you out onto the street... Everyone who gets close to you suffers. You’re nothing but bad luck, and deep down, you know it."

Patricia went dead silent. The anger in her face instantly drained out, replaced by a look of sheer, gut-wrenching pain. Her hands began to tremble.

A white-hot wave of rage hit me so fast I didn’t even process it.

Before I even realized what I was doing, I swung to my feet. My chair crashed backward onto the floor, and in one continuous, fluid motion, my right fist connected square with his jaw.

CRACK.

The sound echoed sharply across the quiet pavilion. The force of the impact snapped his head sideways, sending his drink flying as he stumbled backward, crashing heavily over a low wooden table and hit the floor in a heap.

The restaurant erupted into hushed gasps, but I didn’t care.

I stepped over the shattered table, looming directly over him as he clutched his swelling jaw, groaning in absolute shock and terror. I stared down at him with eyes cold enough to freeze blood.

"If you ever speak to her like that again," I growled, my voice low and lethal, "or even breathe in her direction... I won’t just ruin your restaurant. I’ll make sure you don’t have a life left to go back to. Get out of my sight. Now."

The man scrambled backward like a total coward, shielding his swollen face with one arm as he tried to pull himself up against the wall.

"I’m going to sue you!" he spat, his voice slurred from his aching jaw as he backed away toward the exit. "Assault! Assault! And as for you, Patricia—you’re done! You violated your contract! I’ll take every single cent you have left! You’re going to rot in debt!"

I didn’t even bother chasing him down. I just shrugged my shoulders with total indifference and watched him practically trip over his own loafers as he fled the pavilion. Let him try to sue. Chloe would rip his legal team to absolute shreds before his lawyer could even file the paperwork.

I turned back to Patricia. She was standing there completely speechless, her wide eyes darting between the empty hallway where her boss had just vanished and me. My hit had been so fast and sudden she clearly hadn’t seen it coming.

"Yeah..." I said, running a hand through my hair with a faint, sheepish grin. "Sorry about that. Lost my cool a little too fast there."

Patricia blinked, taking a deep breath before a soft, genuinely touched expression washed over her face. "It’s... it’s okay, Ethan," she murmured gently. "Honestly... thank you. Nobody has ever stood up for me like that before."

We sat back down, pulling our chairs up to the table, and calmly resumed our multi-course meal as if the interruption had been nothing more than a passing breeze.

A few minutes later, the head manager stepped over to our table. He looked visibly relieved that the situation hadn’t escalated further, bowing deeply and keeping his tone extremely polite and careful, knowing who he was dealing with.

"Mr. Ethan, Miss Patricia," he said softly, keeping his hands folded respectfully. "I am deeply sorry for the disturbance caused by another guest. However, I must gently remind you that our estate maintains a strict zero-tolerance policy regarding physical altercations. Please, we kindly ask that we avoid any further incidents during your stay."

"I completely understand," I replied smoothly, giving him a respectful nod. "My bad. We’ll handle things with full maturity from here on out."

"Thank you for your understanding, sir," the manager said, bowing once more before quietly backing away.

I waited until he was out of earshot, then slowly leaned forward across the wooden table. A dark, mischievous grin spread across my face as I looked directly at Patricia.

"So..." I purred, my voice low and full of scheming intent. "Since we’re being mature now... Patricia, what do you think about us fully putting your ex-boss where he actually belongs?"