Just then, a young man in a limited-edition bespoke suit stepped into the restaurant. He radiated an overwhelmingly powerful air and had two assistants trailing behind him.

The moment Colette saw him, the expression on her face flipped like a switch. She could no longer be bothered to humiliate me and jogged over to welcome him.

"Oh my goodness, Mr. Julian Fairchild! What a surprise! You should've called ahead so I could save the best window seat for you!"

Julian took off his sunglasses and casually scanned the room. "I'm just here with some friends. Same table as usual."

Colette nodded vigorously and bowed her head so low that it nearly touched the floor. "Absolutely! It's available right now. This way, Mr. Fairchild. Watch your step."

She fawningly ushered him along, and as she passed my table, she bumped into my chair on purpose.

Once she had him settled, she poured every ounce of her energy into serving his table, pouring coffee, and constantly checking in. She looked like she was even ready to spoon-feed him.

In contrast, my table was completely forgotten. The rest of my dishes never showed up, and even Claire, the trainee from earlier, was too terrified to come near me.

I didn't mind either. Instead, I pulled out my phone, logged into the company's internal management system, and pulled up the procurement and inventory records for this restaurant over the last three months.

It was just as I had expected. There were zero purchases for Pearlysian scallops and an unusually high volume of frozen, domestic ones.

But it wasn't just the scallops. Black truffles, caviar, prime reserve Angus… None of the procurement records for the premium ingredients matched the accounting logs.

Instead, they were systematically substituted with subpar products or cheap imitation goods.

When I tapped on the financial statements and saw that the costs and expenses remained sky-high, that told me everything.

This was a classic case of internal collusion, with people inflating procurement prices, taking kickbacks, and pocketing the difference.

As the floor captain, the fact that Colette brazenly mistreated guests while defending these substandard dishes meant that she was more than just a waitress in this profit chain.

While I was going through the financial statements, Julian at the next table seemed dissatisfied with today's dishes too.

"What's going on with this steak? I ordered medium rare, but it was served well done. How am I supposed to eat this?"

Colette paled in fright and quickly apologized. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Fairchild. The new chef must have misread the ticket. I'll have them redo it and bring you a fresh plate right away!"

As she turned around, still wearing her sycophantic smile, she caught me holding up my phone in her direction.

I was taking a photo of the untouched scallops on my plate as evidence, but to her, it looked like I was secretly snapping photos of Julian or recording her embarrassing blunder.

She stormed over and snatched my phone. "What do you think you're doing? Who gave you permission to take photos of guests? Don't you have any manners? Believe it or not, I'll call the police and have you arrested for violating other people's privacy!"

Having my phone snatched away was the last straw, and my blood boiled.

"Give me my phone back."

I stood up and looked straight at her.

"First, I was taking a photo of my table. Second, you're a waitress, not a police officer, so you don't have the right to seize my personal belongings.

"And third, if you don't put that phone down right now, the consequences will be more than you can bear."

Colette waved my phone and wore a smug, taunting expression.

"Oh! You're threatening me now, aren't you? I'd love to see what kind of consequences you think you can make me face."

"Poor losers like you are probably hiding shady stuff in your phones," Colette said.

As she said that, she even tried to unlock my phone. "What's the password? I'll have our tech guy crack it if you won't tell me."

This had gone far beyond a service dispute. It was outright theft, a violation of privacy, and a crime.

"This is my final warning, Colette. Put the phone down right now and apologize, and you might have a chance to leave this industry with dignity. Otherwise, you'll pay a heavy price for what you've done today."

My words made her freeze, and maybe the sharpness in my gaze triggered her instinctive fear.

But when she glanced over at Julian, who was enjoying the show, her ego flared back up.

"Drop the act! Who do you think you are, talking about making me leave the industry? Are you the president of the Restaurant Association, or some almighty deity?"

She raised my phone, threatening to smash it onto the floor.

"You want your phone back, don't you? Get on your knees and beg. If you do it until I'm satisfied, maybe I'll give it back."

A few low chuckles came from the nearby tables.

Julian swirled his wine glass and watched the scene, clearly entertained.

"Who is she, Ms. Gill?" he drawled. "She clearly doesn't know her place."

Colette immediately switched to a wounded expression and scurried over to complain.

"She's just a freeloader on a promotional set, Julian. She complained about the food and started sneaking photos of you, and I think she's trying to scam something out of this. People like her are the worst. They never learn if we don't teach them a lesson."

Julian smirked. "Well, in that case, don't hold back. I'm in a bit of a foul mood today, and she'll make for good entertainment."

Emboldened by the "VIP's" approval, Colette walked up to me, still holding my phone.

"You heard him, didn't you? Julian wants you to get on your knees. If you don't do it, forget about getting your phone back, and I'll charge you the original menu price for everything you've eaten.

"The Evian and scallops aren't much, really. It'll be about three thousand dollars. If you can't pay up, we'll settle this at the police station."

I looked at her face, twisted with greed and malice, and nodded. "Fine. If you want to go this far, I'm happy to oblige."

Instead of trying to grab my phone back, I reached into my bag and pulled out a second device, which was my backup phone used exclusively for company emergencies.

Colette seemed surprised that I had another phone. She stepped forward to snatch it away, but I had hit the dial button.

"Stephanie, where are you?"

"I just arrived downstairs, Ms. Roe," she said. "The elevators were taking too long, so I'm taking the stairs. What's going on? Is something wrong?"

I stared at Colette's bewildered face and said into the receiver, "You have one minute. Bring security and the entire legal team, and seal all the exits on this floor. Not even a fly leaves this place today."

After hanging up, I leaned back into my chair and looked at Colette, finally smiling for the first time since I walked in.

"Earlier, you said that I had no right to be dining in such a fine establishment, didn't you? You said I had to pay the full three-thousand-dollar original price and demanded that I get on my knees and apologize."

Colette was stunned for a few seconds, visibly shaken by the sudden shift in my demeanor. But soon, her habitual arrogance pushed the panic aside.

To her, someone wearing a basic T-shirt and ordering a promotional meal set couldn't possibly be a big shot who could mobilize a legal team on command. She believed I was putting on a show just to save face.

"Go on. Keep acting," she said, crossing her arms and tossing my phone onto the table.

"Seal the floor, huh? You think you're acting in some movie, aren't you? Who's Stephanie? Some extra you hired for your little act?

"You mentioned one minute, so fine. I'll give you one minute, and if no one shows up, you're crawling out of here!"

She turned around and waved over the watching waiters. "What are you all standing there for? Call security! We have a troublemaker here, and I don't want her slipping away."

Soon, two burly security guards appeared and stood behind Colette, staring me down. The air was thick with tension.

From the next table, Julian shook his head, seeming to have lost his patience with the spectacle. "Enough. All this squabbling is giving me a headache. Just toss her out so she won't ruin my meal."

At his command, Colette pointed at me and announced, "Heard that? Julian just gave me the green light. Now, get her!"