Chapter 2Back at My Brother's Birthday From Hell

When the manager hurried over, Samuel jabbed a finger at the waiter, puffed up with arrogance. He barked, "Your waiter ruined my new shoes. I want an explanation, and I want it right now!"

My mother folded her arms across her chest and snorted coldly. "My precious son was having such a nice birthday celebration, and now your waiter has ruined it. You and your restaurant had better make this right, or we're not letting this go!"

The manager's face went pale. He hastily bowed and scraped as he apologized, then spun around and glared furiously at the waiter. "Rowan, what the hell is wrong with you? How useless can you be? Hurry up and apologize to Mr. Samuel!"

The young man, Rowan, went as white as a sheet. His voice shook as he explained, "I've already apologized, Mr. Wade. I swear I didn't do it on purpose. Mr. Samuel suddenly bumped into my tray, and that's when—"

Before he could finish speaking, Samuel punched him squarely in the face. "What, are you trying to pin this on me now?"

Rowan clutched his cheek, his eyes burning red.

My father shot the manager, Mr. Wade, a cold, threatening look. "Look at how even a lowly waiter dares to talk back to a customer. Is this what passes for customer service in your restaurant, Mr. Wade? It looks like we'll have to move all of Stone Group's business dinners somewhere else in the future."

All color instantly drained from Mr. Wade's face. He whipped around to bark at Rowan, "Apologize to Mr. Samuel right now, Rowan!"

Under the weight of every pair of eyes in the room, Rowan bowed stiffly. "Mr. Samuel, I'm sorry."

Samuel stared at Rowan's naturally handsome face, and a flash of jealousy flickered in his eyes. "If saying sorry fixed everything, why would we need the police? You think a half-assed apology cuts it?"

Rowan pressed his lips together. "Then what do you want me to do, sir?"

Samuel's lips curved in a cruel smile, and his voice turned icy. "Get on your knees and lick my shoes clean."

Rowan's head snapped up, humiliation filling his eyes. "I'm sorry, Mr. Samuel, but I can't do that. Please pick something else."

Rage flared in Samuel's eyes. He grabbed a glass of red wine from the table and flung it straight into Rowan's face. Scarlet liquid streamed down Rowan's hair, soaking into his collar and shirt.

Samuel looked at him imperiously, his lips twisted in open contempt. "Who do you think you are, some kind of saint? You're a nobody who carries plates for a living, and you think you're in any position to negotiate with me? Trash like you isn't even worthy of worshiping at my feet."

Rowan stood there, soaked and humiliated, his hands balling into tight fists.

Mr. Wade's expression turned dark as he warned, "Rowan, if you don't do exactly as Mr. Samuel says, you can get the hell out of this restaurant right now. And don't even think about seeing a paycheck this month!"

He paused, then dropped his voice low. "I heard your grandmother's still waiting on money for her treatment. You sure you want to gamble her life for a little bit of pride?"

Rowan jolted. What little color he had drained from his face. With his jaw clenched, he slowly loosened his fists, and his knees began to bend.

Samuel laughed in triumph, lifting his foot to hook the toe of his shoe under Rowan's chin. "Hurry up. Lick it clean for me."

The filthy shoe pressed against Rowan's cheek. He shut his eyes, shame swallowing him whole.

I couldn't take it anymore. I shot to my feet and wedged myself between them, blocking Rowan from Samuel's view. "That's enough. He already apologized, so let it go."

Samuel arched a brow and glared at me. "What's this? Have you suddenly grown a conscience and decided that you want to stand up for him after all?"