Amara met his eyes, unyielding. “Power doesn’t scare me, Mr. Whitmore. I’ve faced bigger challenges than you.”

The words hung in the air, and Charles’s bluster seemed to deflate in the face of her unwavering stance. A slow wave of admiration began to ripple through the diners. They had come for a meal, but they were witnessing something far more profound—a stand against entitled tyranny.

Finally, Charles threw his napkin onto the table in a fit of frustration. “This isn’t over,” he spat, before signaling for his driver.