I pushed through the back door of the Maragold room ten minutes late with my right shoe broken, my coat damp from the cold,

The judge opened the black case and laid the silver verification pen beside Jack’s hand. Enzo had already signed his section.

I couldn't scream. I couldn't run to Rocco without Victor stopping me. If I accused Marco out loud, his men would shoot me before I finished the sentence. I had only one weapon: they thought I was a clumsy, irrelevant waitress.

I stepped up to the head of the table with the heavy silver coffee pot.

Jack reached for the silver pen. Marco stepped back toward the east corridor, his hand resting casually inside his jacket. Victor reached for the emergency alarm panel behind the wine station.

I didn't hesitate.

I bumped my taped shoe against the leg of Jack's heavy oak chair, leaned forward, and tilted the hot coffee pot directly over the open black case.

Dark, scalding liquid poured across the pristine white contract, filling the velvet lining of the case and submerging the silver verification pen entirely.

"Ah!" Victor shrieked.

The room erupted. Rocco drew his weapon instantly, stepping between Jack and the table. Enzo’s guards reached into their coats.

"You stupid, clumsy bitch!" Victor roared, lunging forward and grabbing my shoulder, shoving me backward against the sideboard. The coffee pot shattered on the floor.

I hit the wood hard, pain flaring through my bruised hip, but I kept my eyes fixed on the pen soaking in liquid.

"Get her out of here!" Marco barked, his calm mask slipping into sharp anger. "Clean this up! Bring another contract!"

"No," Jack’s voice cut through the chaos like a whip.

Everyone froze.

Jack didn't look angry. He looked intently at the table. He stood up slowly, stepping around the broken glass, and stared at the ruined contract. Then he looked down at me as I crouched on the floor, my hand instinctively pressing against my apron.

"You ruined the verification pen," Marco said quickly, stepping next to Jack. "The internal electronic core is drowned in boiling liquid. The signing record is corrupted. We have to clear the room and reschedule."

Jack picked up the dripping silver pen. He turned it over in his hand, then looked at me.

"She didn't slip," Jack said quietly.

Victor stammered, "Mr. Moretti, she’s a incompetent temp! I’ll fire her immediately, I'll—"

"Victor," Jack said without looking at him. "Shut your mouth."

Jack knelt beside me on the floor. The smell of roasted coffee and wet linen filled the space between us. He didn't touch me, but his dark eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made the rest of the room fade away.

"Why did you pour it directly into the case?" Jack asked softly.

I swallowed hard, keeping my voice low enough so only he could hear. "Because the little silver piece inside that pen wasn't going to save you in the east corridor."