Chapter 15: [15] Red Hair, Red Line
The restaurant stilled into a vacuum of shock. Every patron froze, eyes darting between Pierre and Alyssa Hardy like spectators at an execution. Mika stood paralyzed, small hands clutching her apron so tightly her knuckles whitened.
Pierre set his fork down slowly.
"What did you call her?" His voice was deceptively soft.
Alyssa smirked, mistaking his tone for submission. "Oh, I’m sorry. Is ’whore’ too refined a term? Should I use something more... provincial?"
Pierre stood. The chair scraped against the wooden floor. He towered over her, his height casting her in shadow.
"You know what I find interesting about people like you?" He stepped around the table, hands loose at his sides. "You think a uniform and a famous daddy make you untouchable."
Alyssa’s hand tightened on her riding crop. "Sit down before I—"
"Before you what?" Pierre’s mouth curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "Call your father?"
He took another step closer. The restaurant had become so silent that the sound of waves outside seemed thunderous.
"Go ahead. You can do whatever you want to me." He shrugged. "Insult me. Mock me. Do whatever. Most days, I’d laugh it off and forget about you before the sun sets."
Pierre leaned down, bringing his face level with hers. "But when you insult someone I care about? That’s when I stop laughing."
Alyssa’s eyes widened. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed.