“Oh, so this is the once-proud star chef, now just a servant,” said a junior member I’d once scolded for cheating at the culinary association.

When she tried my coffee, she spit it all over my shirt. The others laughed while I screamed.

“What are you doing? Clean my shirt!” I shouted furiously.

“Clean it? Who do you think you are?” She laughed. “The coffee’s bitter. It’s awful, what did you put in it? Make another one!”

I almost slapped each of them. But I quickly calmed myself down, telling myself that this would all be over soon.

That evening, Livia assigned me to handle a lot of things. She trusted me so much because I’d done all my work exceptionally well. I’d been playing the role of the repentant, obedient one.

But in reality, I was orchestrating everything.

One by one. Without a single flaw.

First.

I made sure the big screen in the hall, which was supposed to welcome Livia, turned into something that exploded.

Second.

I’ve sprinkled a generous amount of dark red powder into the main sauce. Sudan I. An industrial dye. Not for food. Used in fuel, oil, and plastic. And… strictly banned throughout the European Union because it’s carcinogenic.

If it’s detected even once—it’s not just the dish that gets pulled. The entire restaurant will be immediately sealed off. Their license revoked. Their reputation ruined.

Third.

I sprinkled fine powder from dried lily flowers onto Livia’s dress. I remember she almost fainted from the itching caused by those flowers.

As the morning sun rose, I slipped out alone.

A car was waiting for me right in front of the gate.

Zidane.

He glanced at me briefly through the open window. “Do we need to burn this place down?”

I got in and stared straight ahead. “No need. I already have a plan.”

And we drove off.

A few minutes later, my phone rang. Bryan and Livia’s names flooded the screen. But I didn’t answer.

Until a message came in from Bryan.

[Don’t let our first course be a letdown. If that happens, I promise I won’t forgive you.]

I laughed hollowly at his threat, which seemed silly now.

Ten minutes later, another message popped up.

[The guests have arrived. Where are you? If you mess up, your father in that prison could be in trouble at any moment!]

I chuckled softly.

Ah… they don’t know.

Tomorrow morning, my father will be released.

Free.

And all their threats… mean nothing anymore.