Whatever it was, it made Riccardo chuckle darkly, his eyes still on Alina.
He licked his lips again, slower this time, as if daring her to react.
But Alina didn't flinch.
Didn't turn.
Didn't give them the power they so clearly wanted.
Instead, she quietly wiped the counter, her heart heavy, her mind already retreating somewhere far away.
'Just a little longer,' she told herself.
'Just until I find something better.'
Alina walked into the back kitchen, pulling open the fridge door to grab the whipped cream. The cool air brushed her face, calming her for just a second.
She turned to head back toward the counter—
And froze.
She felt it before she saw it.
A presence too close.
Breath brushing the back of her neck.
Her whole body locked up.
"Hey, babe," Riccardo's voice purred behind her, low and smug.
Before she could move, he leaned in—pressing himself against her from behind, letting his hand brush her side like he had a right.
Alina's entire brain went blank.
In a split-second burst of panic and disgust, she turned sharply and shoved him away with both hands, her heart pounding so loud she could barely hear her own thoughts.
The worst feeling in the world churned in her chest—violation, rage, and helplessness all at once.
Riccardo stumbled back, laughing like it was a joke.
"Feisty," he muttered, licking his lips again like it was entertainment.
And just behind him, Celeste was standing near the shelf, arms crossed, smirking coldly.
She let out a sharp, mocking laugh.
"Relax, it's not like you're anyone special," she said loudly.
Riccardo chuckled beside her, like Alina's reaction was the funniest thing he'd seen all day.
Alina just stood there, her breath caught in her throat, her hands trembling at her sides.
But she didn't cry.
She didn't speak.
She simply turned back to the counter, blinking rapidly, forcing herself to breathe.
Because she couldn't afford to lose this job.
Not yet.
Not like this.
But deep inside her chest, something cracked—
And something else quietly lit on fire.
Celeste leaned against the wall, arms crossed, smirk sharp as glass.
"If you want to keep this job," she said sweetly, eyes full of venom,
"you'll let Riccardo do whatever he wants."
Her voice was soft, but every word burned like poison.
Riccardo stood beside her, smiling like he owned the world.
He was rich. Handsome in a careless way. And Celeste?
She didn't even flinch.
'He can cheat all he wants. His money is the only thing that makes me happy,' she thought, brushing invisible dust off her perfect nails.
Alina's eyes widened, her whole body freezing for a second.
She felt like the floor had slipped beneath her feet.
Was this what her education, her hard work, had led to?
Was this all she was worth to be someone's toy in exchange for a paycheck?
Riccardo took a step toward her, cocky and cruel.
"Come on, sweetheart. Don't act like you're not desperate."
But before he could touch her, Alina stepped back.
Her voice came out sharp, clear, and loud.
"No!"
Everyone in the café turned.
Her chest rose and fell with anger as her hands clenched at her sides.
"I don't want this job!" she snapped, her voice trembling but strong.
"You both are disgusting. You think you can buy respect with money? Threaten people just because you're weak inside?"
Riccardo's smile dropped. His face twisted with rage.
"You little bi**h! he spat.
"You think you're beautiful or something?! Your eyes look like shit! Your clothes are like a beggar's. You think any man actually wants you?! I only pitied you! I thought maybe I'd make your miserable life better!"
His words were like knives—but Alina didn't flinch.
Because he didn't matter anymore.
Nothing he said could touch her anymore.
She looked at him for one long, quiet second…
Then grabbed the whipped cream can from the counter—
And sprayed it right across his smug, yelling face.
Celeste screamed as foam splattered her perfect hair and dress.
Alina shouted, loud and clear:
"You're tiny!"
"Tiny brains, tiny hearts, tiny souls..absolutely nothing about you is worth even my silence!"
She tossed the empty can into the trash, ripped off her apron, and walked out the door with her head held high, leaving them speechless and dripping in cream.
She had nothing left to lose.
But something told her…
She was finally about to gain everything.
***
That night, Alina lay curled beneath her thin blanket, her body trembling in silence.
Tears soaked her pillow as she hugged it close, burying her face deep into the fabric as if it could hide her from the world.
Her chest ached with every breath.
Her throat burned from holding in sobs.
And the more she tried to forget, the clearer it all became.
The way his hand touched her without permission.
The way his body leaned in, like she was just… nothing.
"Ahhh—!"
A broken cry escaped her lips as she pulled the blanket over her head and screamed into the darkness. Her voice cracked mid-way, turning into hiccups.
She wiped her face with her sleeves, but the tears kept coming...hot, endless, and desperate.
Her nose had turned red from crying.
Her hazel eyes were swollen and puffy, stinging each time she blinked.
And her whole body felt small, powerless, like a crumpled paper left in the rain.
"Why…" she whispered, her voice raspy.
"Why do people like them always win… and people like me always get hurt?"
She wasn't angry anymore. She was exhausted.
Exhausted from being quiet. From being polite.
From giving chances to a world that never gave her one in return.
She turned her face to the wall, tears slipping silently into her pillow.
Her fingers curled into the fabric of her blanket like a child needing comfort.