Bjorn’s caustic commentary left Millie momentarily winded. She fixed him with a piercing gaze, her eyes aglow with indignant fury. The audacity of this tattooed oaf to liken her intellect to that of a pig?

“What are you staring at? Don’t dawdle; serve my coffee, you malodorous wench,”

Bjorn chided impatiently.

“This lout is overstepping his bounds. It’s time we taught him some manners.”

Derek leaned towards Marcus with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

Observing the escalating tension, Marcus, however, furrowed his brows, his gaze softening as it fell on Millie, who was struggling to contain her anger.

how the

assault. “Are you hard of hearing? Bring

Millie to the brink of her tolerance. Such humiliation was unmerited, she ruminated. As a mere waitress, what could she have possibly done to

coffee before Bjorn and swiveled on her heel, ready to vacate the brewing

dear friend Grace at this establishment were

village fool, she decided his provocations were unworthy

taken her first step of retreat, the shrill sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her. Bjomn’s cup lay fragmented

time at an

eyes, a touch of incredulity lighting them. Was this man off

I’ll prepare another,” Millie conceded with

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