Chapter 3 - The Untied Apron
Owen swallowed hard. He looked at Daniel, a man who had worked 80-hour weeks for the past two months without a single complaint. But Owen was a coward. He cared more about the wealthy elite than the people scrubbing his floors.
"Daniel," Owen whispered, refusing to make eye contact with the waiter. "Go to the back. Hand in your uniform. You're done here."
A collective, uncomfortable murmur rippled through the wealthy guests, but no one stepped forward to defend the waiter.
Daniel stood completely still. He looked at Owen, the manager who was throwing him to the wolves, and then he looked back at Victoria, who was sneering at him with absolute, victorious dismissal.
Daniel didn't beg for his job. He didn't burst into tears. His eyes, heavy with exhaustion, maintained a calm, unbroken dignity.
Slowly, deliberately, Daniel reached behind his back. He untied the strings of his crisp white apron. The movement was so smooth, so entirely composed, that Victoria’s arrogant sneer faltered for a fraction of a second. She had expected him to grovel. She wanted him to cry.
May you like
Daniel folded the white apron neatly over his arm. He didn't look like a broken man.
👉 What is Daniel hiding behind his exhausted, composed facade?
