2:30 AM. The bright stars shimmered like crystals, dancing in the black sky. The moon was strong and beautiful, illuminating the empty streets of Denver. The houses were dark and silent, devoid of any sign of life. The only sound echoing through the space was the fierce, cold wind outside.
Only one small house glowed brightly, contrasting sharply with the darkness outside. Christina stood alone on the lit porch, wrapped in her favorite blanket. Bitter tears continued to fall on her swollen, reddened face. A thick cigarette rested between her slender fingers, its smoke intertwining with her caramel hair—she couldn't even remember how long she had been smoking. Nothing could soothe the fire burning within her soul—the memories had returned like a boomerang in her mind, unwilling to leave.
The divorce from Richard was an event that shook her life to its core. It was as if her entire world crumbled when she discovered his affair with a younger woman. That betrayal was painful in itself, but the realization that he had withdrawn all their savings left her completely ungrounded. She was utterly broken, falling into despair, teetering on the edge of giving in to the pain and hopelessness.
The only thing that kept her afloat was her love for her son, Antoine. He was her greatest support during those difficult moments, constantly reminding her that even in the darkest tunnel, there is light, but to reach it, you must keep moving forward, no matter how impossible it seems. Antoine never allowed his mother to give up, and his deep hatred for his father motivated him to seek justice. The boy carried within him a spirit of justice and resolve, which would not let him rest until he saw his mother happy again, free from the pain caused by his father's betrayal.

Alexander stepped into the kitchen to grab a leftover slice of pizza when he noticed that the porch was beautifully lit. The cigarette smoke, drifting through the air slowly but gracefully, didn't escape his notice. He sighed bitterly and decided to go outside.

Seeing Christina crying, broken and filled with worry, made his stomach tighten into a knot. The boy felt a pang of pain and couldn't bear to leave her alone in such a moment of weakness—everyone needed support.

"Hey," the blond softly muttered as he made himself comfortable on the stool next to her. Terry, who was lying under the small glass table, wagged his tail happily at the sight of him. Alexander simply reached out to gently stroke the dog's snout.

"Why are you crying?"

Christina swallowed hard, trying to dissolve the large lump in her throat that made it difficult to breathe. Wiping her bitter tears with her trembling hand, she began to speak:

"I never wanted my child to hate his own father."

The blond sighed bitterly, ready to listen to her every word. Gazing directly into her beautiful green eyes, full of hot tears, he silently began to listen.

"I know how much pain I caused him with the divorce, how much of a trauma it was for him... but what could I have done?"

A painful sigh escaped Alexander's lips, and he timidly replied:

"You did the right thing. Never blame yourself for the terrible actions of other people."

Christina turned her gaze toward him, while her tears continued to flow down her face like waterfalls. Alexander's gentle hand lightly wiped them away—he didn't want to see her like this, defeated and shattered by her memories.

"I hoped so much that one day he would forgive him. Not for me, but more for himself. Was I asking too much?"

"How do you forgive something like that, Chris?"

She choked as she inhaled a large cloud of tar—the cigarette tasted of bitter pain. The warm smoke danced uncertainly around the porch. Alexander lit a cigarette as well, showing his support—even though he wasn't fond of them, he swallowed the tar, allowing it to course through his body.

"Antoine is right—his place really isn't there. I have no right to force my child to do something he doesn't want to do."

"Then put your foot down and stand your ground. How can you let him tie your hands like this and—"

"Antoine is right about something else too."

Christina watched Alexander with quiet nostalgia. She remembered the day she first saw him—a sad, confused thirteen-year-old boy who barely understood what loss meant. His mother had passed away, and his world had fallen apart. Christina couldn't change that terrible event, but she had sworn to herself and to Alexei that she would be there for him, to support him and love him as if he were her own child.

"He said that someone else deserves it more than he does."

Alexander raised his left eyebrow in confusion, as if not understanding what Christina was trying to say. A faint smile appeared on her face, despite the bitter tears. She took a deep breath and spoke:

"Alex, you know, you're the only one in our family who truly understands and shares my love for cooking and the restaurant business." She hesitantly began her thought. "You've always shown interest in my restaurants, their development, and you've stayed up late with me, listening."

The blond nodded in approval—this way, he touched his dream and her world. It was incredibly important to him—he had worked in various restaurants, in different positions, learning new dishes. His mind absorbed all that knowledge with great love and enthusiasm.

"Every time you're in the kitchen, you cook with love and passion. You've changed so many places where they tricked you, both with money and treatment. So many culinary competitions, so much drive hidden inside you."

"This is my dream, Mom. I was born for this."

The confidence with which he said those words touched Christina's heart even more. Her hands found their way to his gentle face, cold from the night wind. Behind the walls of his blue eyes lay so much love and ambition, so much potential waiting to be unleashed. Her lips stretched into a warm smile, and she softly said:

"You deserve a chance."

For a brief moment, Alexander was taken aback by her words—when such an opportunity falls in front of you, it's shocking. But upon deeper reflection, he thought—why not?

Deep down, he was confident—sure that he could handle this and make Christina proud. That's where his heart belonged—no matter what challenges awaited him, he knew he would overcome them.

He took a breath before speaking:

"Are you sure about this? If you're doing it out of fear, don't."

"You deserve it. Why wouldn't I be sure?"

"If you believe in me... I promise you, I won't disappoint you, Mom."

Christina laughed softly, her laughter ringing like a bell as she placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. Her eyes were filled with happiness, anticipation... though somewhere deep inside, the worry Richard had instilled in her still lingered. With his persistence and carefully chosen words, he still knew how to manipulate her and get what he wanted. She didn't want to give in to him—not this time.

"As long as Richard doesn't cause any trouble, I'm sure everything will work out," she said.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of that too," Alexander muttered irritably. "I'll shut him up for good."

Christina smiled, but it was somehow hollow. Her relationship with her ex-husband extended only to work-related matters, but sometimes it dragged her back—to the painful past, to the terrible betrayal. Her heart longed for him to stop creating problems and stirring up drama as he loved to do, just to maintain his power and wealth. She fervently hoped he would swallow his ego and fake pride.

Her eyes began to droop—the fatigue was catching up with her. Standing up slowly from the table, she said, 

"You have no idea how proud I am of you both."

A smile danced on his pale face before she gently kissed his forehead again and walked toward the house, ready to lie down and, for a moment, forget all her worries. She couldn't wait to snuggle into Alexei's warm embrace, to close her eyes and escape the tense reality, as if it were just a bad dream or a story with an unhappy ending.

Alexander remained alone on the porch, wrapped in the cold night wind. Everything that had happened felt incredibly unexpected to him, like a thunderstorm in the heat of June. He was stunned and anxious—new doors were opening before him, revealing new opportunities. His stomach churned with both worry and determination.

He was ready to prove that his soul lived for this.

Then, a sudden thought pierced his mind like a bolt of lightning, making his skin tingle and his heart race.

"Only good things await you..."

That promise, whispered with a mysterious smile, echoed again in his mind. The memory of the woman—enigmatic, with a mischievous spark in her eyes and a bold smile playing on her lips—flashed through his thoughts like an arrow. She had been both challenging and captivating, leaving behind not just an impression, but something more. Her phone number, hastily scrawled on a small piece of paper, rested in his pocket—a small but significant secret, waiting to be revealed.

Alexander hesitated for just a moment before taking a deep breath. His hands trembled slightly as he carefully entered Penelope's number into his phone. The curiosity that had been gnawing at him for a long time finally overcame his doubts. It felt as though this moment carried the promise of something new, something exciting, though undefined. His fingers moved swiftly across the screen, and the message was short but clear:

"A: You were right."

He deliberately didn't introduce himself. Instead, he smiled quietly, almost mischievously, hiding behind the cold screen of his phone. He knew it was late and that she probably wouldn't reply immediately, but despite that, he remained on the porch – alone, but not entirely. The silence of the night and the warmth of the house surrounded him, but they couldn't drown out the strange excitement he felt – a mix of anticipation and nervousness, brought on by the conversation with Kristina.

The quiet sound of a notification reached him, making him glance down at his phone.

"P: About what?"

"A: That only good things are ahead for me."

A joyful laugh escaped Penelope's lips as she celebrated with her friends. The music was loud, and the atmosphere in the club was vibrant. A large glass of expensive whiskey, with ice purely for decoration, was in her hand. The alcohol coursed through her veins, making her feel light, cheerful, and free. The club was alive, and men glanced her way, eyeing her from head to toe, trying to capture the image of her beauty like a picture. Penelope was a magnet for attention, compliments, and flirtation – the confidence shining from her venomous green eyes was impossible to miss. She loved being the center of attention, but now something else caught her interest.

"P: I was mostly talking about myself."

She smiled slyly, taking a large sip of whiskey.

"P: Judging by your good mood..."
"P: Would it be too bold to ask what happened?"

The blond boy couldn't help but laugh out loud, the sound ringing like a sweet melody in the night. His cheeks took on a light pink shade, and a bright smile stretched across his lips. His heart raced, pounding furiously in his chest. He continued their conversation for a while longer, keeping the spark of flirtation and intrigue between them alive.

He rose from his chair, waking Terry, who had been sleeping loyally at his feet. The dog's eyes were red and sleepy, but despite his tiredness, he got up and obediently followed Alexander. When they reached his bed, the dog curled up beside him, and the young man pulled a white plush blanket over himself, wrapping his body in its warm embrace. His ocean-blue eyes slowly closed as a whirlwind of thoughts filled his mind – in the best way possible, of course. His heart slowly began to calm down, its rhythm steadying as he drifted off to sleep. Wrapped in the soft embrace of the night, he let go, surrounded by warmth and peace.

A few days had passed since the conversation between Chistina and Alexander.

Christina had managed to stand her ground against Richard, who once again tried to go against her, to break her down, and defeat her. Unfortunately for him, her determination struck where it hurt – once he felt the burning persistence within her, he begrudgingly agreed to give the unknown Alexander a chance.

At that moment, the blond was preparing breakfast for his family, enjoying the pleasant company of Alexey and Kristina. The man was reading the newspaper, accompanied by a cup of hot, aromatic coffee, while she was sipping her favorite mint tea. Her whole body was warmed by the drink and the presence of her loved ones. She felt strong and at peace, her head resting on her beloved's shoulder.

Loud footsteps echoed through the house, making everyone turn their heads – Antoine was rushing off to training again. Having left everything until the last minute, his mind was consumed by tension – oversleeping always brought him bad luck and a lot of trouble. Kristina laughed cheerfully and said:

"Tony, if I ever see you not rushing off to training, I'll change my gender."

"Better get used to being a woman then!" his loud voice rang through the house, making everyone burst into laughter. "Damn it, I need to get one of those annoying alarm clocks."

"You really do."

Antoine turned and stuck his tongue out at his mother, teasing her. The young boy had an extremely close relationship with the woman who gave him life, and he often joked with her, knowing how much it made her happy. Then he bent down to tie his shoes but was pleasantly surprised by Terry, who started showering him with affectionate kisses on his face. A warm smile spread across his lips as he pulled the innocent little animal into a tight hug, which seemed to warm his very heart.

"Bro, aren't you going to have breakfast?" Alexander called out loudly, his voice ringing like a bell through the kitchen. "I know you overslept, but at least have a bite."

"I can't, I'll be too late."

"I'll pack it for later. Give me a minute." Alexander dove back into his culinary task, frantically searching through the organized kitchen cabinets. Determination was written across his face as he rummaged through the cupboards, looking for the perfect plastic container to pack his older brother's meal. He knew how important that cheddar and feta omelette was for him, especially after a tough training session. He could already picture how the warm, aromatic food would not only give his brother energy but also provide some much-needed comfort after a busy day.

While Alexander busied himself with this task, Antoine patiently waited off to the side. He had settled on the soft kitchen rug, where Terry, his loyal companion, was sprawled on the cool floor, basking in the attention he was receiving. Antoine gently stroked him, and Terry wriggled in delight, eagerly seeking more scratches, kisses, and cuddles. Antoine's smile was wide and bright, and in his forest-green eyes, there was genuine happiness and contentment with the moment. Everything seemed so calm and harmonious, filled with the warmth of a home created by the love shared between the people and their four-legged friend.

"Today is a big day, isn't it?" Christina said excitedly, taking a sip of her hot tea. The delicious drink made its way to her soul, warming and comforting her. A smile played on the blond boy's face, and he replied:

"Indeed. I'm so nervous." He took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions hanging over him. His hands trembled slightly. Alexey laughed heartily, setting aside his newspaper, and said:

"Success comes to those who fight for it tooth and nail. Go and prove yourself – you can do it. Do I need to say how much we believe in you?"

The melting, warm words filled his heart with so much love and calm that he couldn't help but smile. He felt the tension that had been tightening his face gradually dissipate. His father had never lost faith in him, even for a moment – memories of those distant days when he was a small child trying with his clumsy hands to mix dough for chocolate cookies while standing on a little stool next to Valeria flooded his soul with tender nostalgia. He felt the warmth of those moments, overflowing with coziness and innocence, like a slowly reviving light in his memory.

Antoine's lunch was neatly packed in a large container, along with a tomato and cucumber salad and a KitKat for dessert. Handing it to him, the blond sweetly wished:

"Have a good workout."

"Thank you. I wish you success too, and please – knock that bastard's nose in."

"Antoine!" Christina called out, annoyed, making everyone laugh, even Antoine himself, whose words were serious, not a joke. Terry was irritated by the laughter and began barking insistently, jumping around and wagging his large, furry tail.

"Alright, alright, I'm leaving!" the dark-haired boy laughed even more cheerfully and seemingly flew out the door, trotting to his car. Time was moving on, and he continued to dawdle. The gym awaited him eagerly – to hear his quick steps on the floor and the inflated ball thumping loudly in his sweaty hands, filled with passion and desire. Volleyball was etched into his soul as an integral part of his being, as if every hit of the ball resonated in his heart. It was not just a sport but the pulse that drove him forward, a passion woven into his very existence. Training, the thrill of each victory, and the lessons from every defeat were like threads deeply interwoven with his identity, leaving marks that would never fade.

Alexander returned to the kitchen, filled with love and the aroma of delicious breakfast, and began eating, not noticing how quickly he was chewing and swallowing. The breakfast was tasty and made with much love, but due to his intense emotions, the boy couldn't fully enjoy it. He was eager to step into this new world for him – his heart was pounding aggressively in his chest, as if ready to escape.

Christina and Alexey noticed this and occasionally exchanged sympathetic glances – looks full of excitement and, most of all, love.

The moment had arrived.

The blond Alexander carefully parked his car in the almost full parking lot – the "Golden" restaurant had opened its doors to its clients. It was a restaurant loved by nearly all of Denver, highly regarded for its delicious food and the incredible attitude of its staff. It was a place where long lines of customers formed.

Christina's soul was filled with pride and satisfaction – she had fulfilled her dream, despite all the criticism, completely on her own. The difficulties had passed and been forgotten, and now her empire grew with each passing day, bringing her only successes. A wide smile played on her beautiful face, celebrating the success and realized dreams.

Alexander stepped into this new world for him. His blue eyes scanned the surroundings, exploring every corner of the restaurant with curiosity and gentle attentiveness. The place was alive, as if the very air was vibrating with the energy of the people present. Conversations intertwined into a harmonious cacophony of voices, laughter, and the soft clinking of glasses, creating a sense of warmth and coziness. Every corner of the restaurant seemed vibrant, from the quiet nooks where couples whispered to each other, to the noisier tables where friends enjoyed each other's company.

The gentle jazz music that filled the air was like a soft, continuous stream, embracing every guest. The sounds of the saxophone and piano wove into a seductive dance, causing the heart to beat slower, filling the soul with a sense of calm and bliss. At that moment, it seemed that the music was not just heard but could be felt – like a warm breeze wrapping around the body and carrying thoughts far away from daily worries.

The soft light of the candles on the tables cast muted reflections on the faces of the guests, adding a touch of intimacy and mystery to the atmosphere. Shadows danced on the walls in rhythm with the music, creating a sense of a hidden world where time seemed to stand still. Even the smallest details – the elegantly arranged flowers on the tables, the refined aromas of exquisite dishes, the subdued sounds of cutlery, the gentle rustling of ladies' silk dresses – everything was part of a magic that made the day unforgettable.

In this restaurant, under the soft veil of the day, everything seemed possible. People forgot their worries and simply enjoyed the moment – shared smiles, fleeting glances that spoke more than words, and the music that continued to play as if it would never end. It was one of those rare moments when everything was exactly in its place, perfect in its simplicity and filled with life.

His stomach was filled with a quiet euphoria and his face flushed with delight. Everything was so wonderful – just as he remembered. Every detail was perfect, filling him with a sense of perfection and comfort.

At the entrance was the charming Amelia, the hostess who had been working here for several years. Young and well-groomed, incredibly beautiful and welcoming, she managed to capture the eye and serve the customers as needed.

A wide smile spread across her face when she saw Kristina and Alexander stepping through the large doors again. Clearing her throat, she cheerfully said:

"Good morning! Kris, hello. Oh my, those pants look wonderful on you."

"Thank you, dear." Kristina pulled her into a quick, gentle hug. "Is Richard here?"

"He was receiving stock with Tom and looked quite upset. He's not in a good mood."

Kristina rolled her eyes in irritation – his bad mood always brought trouble and unpleasant moments. Worry once again colored her thoughts, and she glanced at Alexander, who stood confident and steadfast beside her. His eyes sparkled with excitement, and his heart skipped beats.

"Damn it," she muttered softly.

"He said he'll be waiting for you in the first area."

Christina looked around and saw him – Richard was standing at a beautiful table, puffing on a thick cigar and sipping a large gulp of expensive whiskey. This was his trademark for important meetings or events. His face was painted with high self-esteem, mixed with hypocrisy and mockery.

Their eyes met for a moment – Richard raised his eyebrows self-assuredly, ready to display his false grandeur upon the unfamiliar and weaker Alexander. Kristina took a breath, knowing that her son would refute him.

"Are you ready?"

The blond held his breath, trying to quell the fire of euphoria in his chest. Confident, he said:

"I'm ready."

Christina smiled broadly, gently touched his face, and the two of them bravely walked toward Richard, who was watching Alexander with a scrutinizing gaze, as if he were just another worker or a mere toy. Poison seemed to boil in his black eyes – his gaze was malevolent and insistent, ready to scorch.

The amber liquid flowed down his throat, burning his vocal cords and his body, filled with false pride. Arrogance smoldered in his soul as he sized Alexander up from head to toe – seeing nothing special in him, which only made him prouder.

"Good afternoon!" Alexander began politely, extending his hand. "I'm Alexander, nice to—"

"Richard." The man cut him off sharply. "Sit down."

Alexander didn't let the brusque treatment unnerve him and comfortably took a seat across from Richard—his eyes continued to shine, as did his warm smile. Kristina sighed in frustration, affected by Richard's arrogance, but remained silent for Alexander's sake, who was slightly trembling with excitement.

Richard's fingers slowly slid over the documents while his eyes scanned the surroundings. He took a deep breath and spoke confidently:

"Well, what can I say? I'm not thrilled about dealing with this, but Kristina has decided that you're the 'right' person for the job." He sighed heavily. "I'm disappointed that my only son, Antoan, didn't want to... honestly, I think all this is a waste of—"

"Richard." Christina said quietly, looking at him sternly, tapping her long red nails on the massive wooden table. Alexander chuckled softly—he stood upright and serious, responding with calm:

"Antoin has his priorities, apparently he didn't want it. I'm here to take responsibility. What will be my duties as a manager?"

"Don't rush, kid." Richard's smile was dripping with sarcasm, his response mocking Alexander's eagerness. "Let's see. Manager, you say? You'll need to oversee the entire staff. Motivate them, set their shifts, and, most amusingly, take responsibility when something goes wrong. But that's not all, don't worry. You'll also need to monitor the quality of service. Customers won't be as patient as Kristina, Alejandro."

"Alexander," he said resignedly but firmly. "I understand, I won't have a problem with that. I have an idea of how to manage people and achieve results."

"An idea?" Richard laughed loudly and disdainfully. "An idea, you say? Managing a restaurant isn't like one of those 'ideal' notions you have. This isn't a job you just 'learn' from books. You need to handle the stress of the real world. For instance—deliveries. Can you organize ones that won't fail at the last moment? You'll need to monitor suppliers, prices, quantities. Not to mention dealing with constant customer complaints, who will always find something to grumble about."

"I'll manage. I'm eager to learn, and I know I'll need to delve into the details. I'll give it my all." The young man nodded, making an effort to stay calm.

Richard flipped through a few more pages of the documents, sighed heavily again, and said:

"Oh, you'll definitely need to understand a lot. Financial reports, for example. You'll be doing monthly reports on turnover and expenses. And you need to handle this precisely—one mistake, one error, and the restaurant will be at a loss. Then we'll see how you handle it when the numbers aren't in your favor. Can you handle these challenges?"

"I will give my best. I know I can handle the financial side. I have no problem with numbers." His voice grew firmer and more resolute with each word.

"Numbers..." Richard chuckled briefly, but harshly. "Yes, something tells me you have quite an... academic approach to things. But this is different. Every day, you'll have staff looking to you for guidance. Do you think you'll be able to assert your authority? Because here, people won't listen to you just because you have the title 'manager.' Some of them have been working here for years. I don't think it will be easy for you to make them trust you, especially since you apparently got this position thanks to your mother."

"For God's sake, Richard." Christina covered her face with her hand, visibly embarrassed by his rudeness. Alexander, however, persistently did not respond, even more so—he skillfully ignored him, which infuriated Richard inwardly.

"Words are nice, but here, work speaks. I'll give you training—short and without any pleasantries. It will cover everything, from managing the staff, through stock inventories, to quality control and communication with customers. You need to learn how to handle critical moments, how to act in case of an emergency shortage of products, or when one of your key employees doesn't show up for work. This isn't something you can master overnight, Alexander. And I doubt it will suit your taste."

Alexander clenched his jaw, and the veins in his hands stood out, as if drawn, but despite the growing tension in his mind, he managed to maintain his composure and said:

"I understand there will be difficulties, but that doesn't scare me. Every beginning is tough. If I'm going to learn, I'll learn in the best way, from the best people, right?"

"Yes, yes, of course. 'Nothing scares you.' We'll see how long you keep up that enthusiasm. Just remember, no one will cover your back when you mess up. I won't be here to hold your hand. This is your battle."

"You're right."

"Either you'll manage, or you'll sink. And honestly, I don't care. In either case, I'll win. In either case, you'll be in my shadow."

"Then I'll prove to you that everyone will win."

Alexander's icy smile immediately turned into a fierce gaze, filled with confidence and determination—there's no braver person than one who has been pushed down. His patience was on the edge, but his self-control was intact.

"I hope Christina hasn't made another mistake," Richard looked at her critically. "What is a stranger doing in the seat meant for our son, Christina?"

"I told you a million times—he doesn't want it!"

Richard sighed in frustration and once again turned his venomous gaze on Alexander, who was continuously staring back at him—his effort to stay calm was starting to show. A sly smile appeared on the man's face, which filled the blond with quiet rage.

"Well, Alexander... will you leave us for a moment? Decisions need to be made!"

Alexander's sea-blue eyes turned to Christina—he saw worry and helplessness in her eyes again, but he chose to remain silent. She nodded approvingly, signaling him to step away, and he confidently stood up. His muscles were tense with stress, but the poor treatment did not extinguish the fire of excitement in his chest.

It was happening. His childhood dream was reaching new heights. Someone truly saw his potential and passion—genuine and strong.

"I'll wait for you in the car, Chris."

"Alright, Alex," Christina said timidly, and the blond walked toward the exit of the beautiful restaurant. His chest rose and fell slowly, with excitement and impatience, and his fingers trembled slightly. His eyes seemed to shine, and a smile adorned his flushed face.

"What's wrong with you?!" Christina raised her voice, hitting the table forcefully. "How could you act like this?"

"I refuse to accept that a stranger's son is sitting in the seat that should be for Antoine. The fact that he's the son of the guy you're sleeping with doesn't move me."

"Who I'm sleeping with is my business! Antoine doesn't want it, I've told you billions of times!"

"You're lying!" Richard slammed the beautiful glass angrily onto the table. "He must be the biggest fool to not agree. I have one son and—"

"What son of yours?! You haven't looked at him since the divorce! Was he your son when you were sleeping with younger lovers and didn't come home for days?! I seriously doubt it!"

"Everyone makes mistakes. I want to make up for my mistakes."

"There's no forgiveness, Richard." Christina shook her head in disappointment.

"The fool who sat across from me is not my son! No one—"

"He's my son!" Christina interrupted him, shouting. "I've been in his life since he was thirteen. A child who lost his mother to an incurable illness, left alone. Crying every night and having nightmares."

"Heartbreaking, yes," the man laughed mockingly, showing no empathy for Alexander's pain or Christina's powerful words.

"I've been in his life and raised him as my own child, and he's endlessly grateful to me, just as I am to him. I'm also grateful to his father for loving me the way you never wanted to!"

"Is that so?!" Richard raised his voice, starting to lose his temper.

"I can't stand this arrogance in you, Richard! You're not as great as you think you are! And your damned place is thanks to ME!"

Richard's voice seemed to falter in the face of Christina's resolve—she was truly enraged. Her eyes were filled with venom, and her lips barely held back the insulting words swirling in her mind like a powerful whirlwind.

"You're only strong in words and obsessed with greed. That's what you are—an avaricious wretch!"

Richard abruptly rose from his chair, ready to leave, but the furious Christina had not finished her thoughts. She forcefully shoved him back into his seat—his face filled with astonishment and slight concern. He felt her delicate hands trembling with rage and stared into her green eyes, which he had once loved so many years ago—times when he wasn't obsessed with money and power, but only with love.

"The weak Christina is no more."

"Kris, I—"

"This is my restaurant, my reason to fight," her voice grew low and resolute. "I've fought like an animal, with teeth and claws, to reach the top. ALONE! I gave you that title and I can easily take it away!"

The color drained from Richard's face—concern was now replaced by fear—fear of losing his power and no longer being respected. He would be an ordinary person, nothing more. How dreadful, right?

He had never seen Christina in this terrifying light, not even during their awful divorce. His lips trembled slightly, but a lump lodged in his throat left him unable to speak.

"When does Alexander's training begin?"

"Start...of th-the month," the man stuttered.

"I wish you a pleasant day!" Enraged Christina grabbed her black handbag and confidently walked toward the office—her black heels clicking with a sound of triumph, grace, and self-assurance. Her stride was that of a strong woman who knew her worth—she had just demonstrated it to the man who had tormented her for years.

Her heart pounded aggressively in her chest, ready to burst.

Richard sat stunned in his chair, staring at a fixed point—what the hell had happened to this woman? He was sweating with tension, and his lungs fought for a breath of air.

The man downed the remainder of his whiskey in one gulp and clasped his head with his fingers.

He had been defeated by the woman he had broken so many years ago.

He had been defeated by his own son, whom he had abandoned so many years ago.