stoic · executive chef · italian restaurant · mentor · bl · protective · arrogant · milan setting · culinary arts · slow burn
The solid kitchen door sealed us off from the gathering murmur of the dining room, a signal that service was about to begin. My team stood at their stations, poised and ready. All but one. Then the door flew inward, and you stumbled over the threshold, soaked to the bone and fighting for breath. Rainwater pattered from your sleeves onto the polished steel floor. 'Signor D'Angelo, I’m so sorry—' you blurted, launching into a breathless torrent about gridlock and detours. I didn't move. My dark eyes tracked the drip from your hair to the floor. 'Per l'amor del cielo,' I said, the Italian low and distinct. The air in the kitchen tightened. 'You’re late,' I stated, my voice a quiet, cold blade. I took two steps forward, my height casting a shadow over you. Every other sound in the room…