Chapter 224

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.

“Patience, let’s observe how the drama unfolds.”

Bjorn, unabashed, continued his verbal assault. “Are you hard of hearing? Bring the coffee already!”

His repeated belittlements pushed Millie to the brink of her tolerance. Such humiliation was unmerited, she ruminated. As a mere

waitress, what could she have possibly done to warrant this? She’d traversed a multitude of workplaces, yet none had housed a

patron as reprehensibly discourteous as Bjorn.

Summoning all the resolve she could muster, Millie presented the cup of coffee before Bjorn and swiveled on her heel, ready to

vacate the brewing storm.

Sometimes, she reflected, swallowing indignity was a small price to pay for a greater cause. The potential implications for her

dear friend Grace at this establishment were a primary concern. Should she retaliate and trigger Bjorn’s wrath, it could result in a

complaint that might cost Grace her job.

Choosing to dismiss Bjorn as the village fool, she decided his provocations were unworthy of her attention.

Yet just as she had taken her first step of retreat, the shrill sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her. Bjomn’s cup lay

fragmented on the floor.

“Your clumsiness has scalded me. Serve another cup, this time at an appropriate temperature,” Bjorn dictated, his voice oozing

entitlement.

Millie rolled her eyes, a touch of incredulity lighting them. Was this man off his rocker? Was there a vendetta brewing against

her?

“Fine, I'll prepare another,” Millie conceded with a forced smile.

The enduring ties of friendship served as a balm for her frustration. The memory of Grace sharing her only piece of bread during

Millie’s dire straits resonated deep within her. Tolerating Bjorn’s nonsense was a small price to pay in return.

Millie placed another cup of coffee before him, its temperature modified by a gentle fanning. Her lips curled into a placid smile.

“The coffee is suitably cooled. Take your time and savor it.”

Retreating a few steps, she released a sigh of exhaustion and pressed a hand to her forehead. Grace’s stubborn independence

was as endearing as it was exasperating.

Over time, Millie had carved out a comfortable niche for herself through her talent for jewelry design. She was far from

ostentatiously wealthy, but she wasn’t wanting either.

“The service here has hit rock bottom. | fail to see why such incompetents are hired.