Brian appeared clearly on the screen standing right in front of the forge, parked right next to a sleek black town car.
“Get that ugly oversized truck out of my driveway!” Brian shouted arrogant orders.
An older gentleman wearing a tailored charcoal suit stepped out of the back seat of the vehicle.
It was Chef Harrison himself.
“Young man, that town car happens to belong to me,” he stated calmly.
Brian did not even recognize his famous face.
“Then move it right now. I came here to talk to the blacksmith.”
Beatrice stepped out from behind the car with her arms crossed.
“This entire family nightmare is happening because of Samantha. Ever since she signed those divorce papers, she acts like she is somebody
important.”
Harrison looked closely at Brian with a frowning expression.
“Is Thomas Reyes your father-in-law?”
“Former father-in-law, luckily for me. His daughter was only good for basic cooking and house cleaning, nothing more.”
My father opened the wooden door and stood at the entrance.
“Brian, please leave my property,” my father asked quietly.
“Or what? Are you going to threaten me? Without my high-end restaurant, nobody in this city would even know your dusty workshop exists!”
Brian then angrily kicked a wooden storage box resting near the doorway.
The wooden lid popped open and three hand-forged knives tumbled out onto the stone floor.
One of those pieces was the custom knife my father had painstakingly crafted for Harrison.
At that exact moment, another luxury sedan pulled up alongside the curb. Arthur Pendelton, the senior executive of the corporate dining group holding major supply contracts with Brian’s establishment, stepped out.
Brian
instantly turned pale as paper.
“Mr. Pendelton…”
Pendelton looked down at the scratched custom knife lying on the dusty driveway floor.
“Tell me you did not just kick that hand-forged blade.”
“It was just a stupid minor accident. It’s only a piece of metal.”
“Only a piece of metal?”
Nervously, Brian shoved the wooden box further aside with his shoe.
“My ex-father-in-law crafts these cheap tools. They are not worth a fraction of what he charges people.”
A fresh text message from Samuel popped up on my phone screen:
“He just insulted your father right to the face of Chef Harrison and Mr. Pendelton. He still has no idea who you truly are to those powerful men.”
The elevator doors chimed and slid open on the top floor.
