Chapter 8 - The Reversal of Fortune
Six months later.
The Copper Spoon had become the most exclusive culinary hotspot in New York. A glowing review in the New York Times—which Julian swore he had nothing to do with, though Nadia had her doubts—had solidified its reputation. The waitlist for a table was now three months long.
Nadia sat in her small office at the back of the restaurant, reviewing the monthly profits, when a soft knock sounded on the door.
Her mother, Beatrice, stepped inside. She looked older, her face lined with worry, carrying a cheap plastic shopping bag.
"Nadia, honey," Beatrice said softly, looking around the beautiful, expanded office. "Do you have a minute?"
"Of course, Mom. Sit down." Nadia offered her a chair.
Beatrice sat, her hands nervously twisting the handles of her bag. "I... I wanted to ask you a favor. It's about your Aunt Diane."
Nadia’s expression cooled instantly. "What about her?"
"They lost everything, Nadia. After Trevor was fired, the bank investigated his accounts and found some... discrepancies. He’s facing federal charges. Camille broke off the engagement, but the scandal ruined Diane's social standing. The co-op board forced her to sell her penthouse, and she’s broke. She’s living in a tiny one-bedroom apartment in Queens."
Beatrice looked at her daughter with pleading eyes. "She’s family, Nadia. I know she was cruel. I know I should have stood up for you more. I will regret that for the rest of my life. But Diane... she’s starving, Nadia. Literally. She can barely afford groceries. I was wondering... if you could find it in your heart to give her a job here? Even just washing dishes in the back?"
Nadia sat back in her chair, the memory of that fateful night at Ferrante’s rushing through her mind. Eat a little less, Nadia. Maybe then you'd finally find a husband.
The irony was beautiful, almost poetic. The woman who had tried to starve her self-worth was now begging for food from her kitchen.
Before Nadia could answer, the door opened, and Julian walked in. He was dressed in a pristine navy suit, his presence immediately filling the room with an undeniable authority. Beatrice gasped slightly, standing up out of instinct.
Julian walked straight to Nadia, bending down to press a tender kiss to her cheek, his hand resting possessively on her shoulder. He looked at Beatrice, his eyes calm but sharp.
"Mrs. Okafor," Julian said smoothly. "Your sister is welcome to come to the kitchen door tomorrow morning at 6:00 AM. Our head chef will provide her with a standard entry-level contract for prep work and dishwashing. She will be fed a full hot meal at the start and end of every shift."
Beatrice’s eyes filled with tears. "Thank you, Mr. Cho. Thank you so much."
"But," Julian added, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper that made Beatrice freeze. "If she utters a single word about my wife’s appearance, her weight, or her choices, she will be thrown out onto the street, and I will personally ensure she can't find a job cleaning subway tracks. Am I clear?"
Beatrice nodded frantically. "Yes, completely clear. Thank you." She quickly gathered her things and left the office, her shoulders slumping with relief.
Nadia looked up at Julian, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Wife, huh? We haven't even had the wedding yet."
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Julian pulled a small, velvet box from his pocket and set it on the desk. He opened it, revealing a flawless, massive emerald ring that perfectly matched the color of the dress she had worn the night they met.
"We are having it next Sunday," Julian said, his eyes filled with absolute certainty. "And no one will be allowed to tell you what to eat ever again."
