"Read it again," Julian Thorne snapped, his hands gripping the edge of the stainless-steel prep counter so hard his knuckles were white.

Paul, his newly promoted executive sous-chef, swallowed hard. The young man looked terrified, holding an iPad like it was a live grenade. "Chef, I rea

The atmosphere inside *L’Étoile* had shifted from frantic panic to a suffocating, funereal gloom.

It was 11:30 PM. The last disgruntled customer had left an hour ago, demanding a refund on their way out the door. The kitchen staff had cleaned their stations in absolute, terrified silenc

Julian dropped his phone. It hit the tile floor with a sharp crack, the screen splintering, but Anton Aris’s voice continued to play, raving about the flawless sear on a line-caught sea bass.

"Julian!" Serena cried out, reaching for his arm. "What are you doing?"

Julian shoved past he