Uncrowned Princess

20

A week passed,

The hotel's main dining room was bustling with activity when a loud crash silenced the room. All eyes turned to table 17, where a red-faced man in an expensive suit stood, his plate of food scattered on the floor.

"This is unacceptable!" the man bellowed, pointing an accusing finger at Ethan. "I asked for my steak well-done, and this is practically mooing!"

Ethan approached calmly, his voice level. "I apologize, sir. I'll have the kitchen prepare a new steak for you immediately."

The man's face grew redder. "You think that solves it? I've been waiting for an hour already!"

"Sir, I assure you it's only been—" Ethan began, but the man cut him off.

"Don't you dare contradict me, boy!" He grabbed another plate from the table and hurled it at Ethan's feet. "I want to speak to your manager!"

As Ethan tried to calm the situation, Isabella, who had been watching from across the room, strode over quickly.

"Sir," Isabella interjected, her voice sharp, "perhaps if you spent less time yelling and more time using your cutlery, you'd have finished your meal by now."

The man turned his fury on her. "How dare you speak to me like that! Do you know who I am?"

Isabella's eyes flashed dangerously. "Oh, I know exactly who you are. You're the type of guest who thinks a platinum credit card buys you the right to treat people like dirt. Well, newsflash, it doesn't."

In one fluid motion, Isabella picked up a glass of red wine from a nearby table and dumped it over the man's head. As he sputtered in shock, she grabbed a handful of sauce from the floor and smeared it across his face.

The dining room fell into stunned silence.

Isabella leaned in close, her voice low and menacing. "Sir, I suggest you return to your room, clean up, and pack your bags. Your behavior is unacceptable, and you are no longer welcome in this hotel."

The man wiped sauce from his eyes, glaring at her. "You can't do this! Do you know who I am?"

"I don't care if you're the King of England," Isabella replied coolly. "In this hotel, we treat our staff and other guests with respect. Now, leave before I have security escort you out."

As Isabella continued her tirade, Ethan's eyes widened in alarm. He quickly grabbed her by the shoulder and steered her to a quiet corner.

"Isabella, that wasn't necessary," Ethan said in a low voice. "I could have handled it."

Isabella rolled her eyes. "Oh please, he needed to be taken down a peg or two. People like that—"

"Enough," Ethan cut her off, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. "Go back to work. I'll deal with this."

As Isabella turned to leave, she felt Ethan's gaze on her. She looked back, their eyes meeting for a moment. There was something in his look – a mix of exasperation, admiration, and something else she couldn't quite place.

"What?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ethan shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Nothing. Just... try not to start any more fires today, okay?"

Isabella smirked. "No promises," she said, then took a step closer, lowering her voice. "You know, I could always bribe you for a longer break. I'm sure we could find a mutually beneficial arrangement."

Ethan's eyes widened slightly, his breath catching. He leaned in, his voice a low whisper. "Tempting, but you'll have to wait until my break. I have some ideas about how we could spend that time."