Zuria
I kept my eyes on Danny's face, my hands trembling slightly. He looked so calm, but I knew that calm—I'd seen it before. It was the kind of calm that came before a storm. His gaze moved slowly to Mr. Connor, and his brows furrowed.
"What do you mean you cut from her wages?" Danny asked, his voice dangerously low. "Because I don't think I'm understanding you."
"I said what I said," Mr. Connor replied coldly, not even attempting to hide the disdain in his expression. "I deducted from her pay to cover the damages caused by the people she brought in."
There was a beat of silence before Danny scoffed. He tilted his head slightly, lips curling with disbelief.
"Damages? Are you even hearing yourself right now?"
The few employees still lingering at the restaurant had begun to turn, their steps pausing as they tuned into the rising tension. I could feel the air growing thick, crackling with something volatile.
"They came in here and tried to assault her," Danny continued, voice growing louder. "And you—you just stood there. Like some lazy statue. You watched them insult her, degrade her, and did nothing. Not a damn thing."
"Danny, please—" I whispered, reaching out to tug gently on his sleeve, hoping he'd just stop before it got worse. But he didn't even glance at me.
"You could have kicked them out. Hell, even if you didn't care about her, you could've at least cared about the place you claim to manage." He took a step closer to Mr. Connor. "But you stood there and let it happen. And now she has to pay for it?"
Mr. Connor slammed his hand on the table and stood up, voice booming. "You will not speak to me that way, Danny!"
"Oh, I'll speak to you however I damn well please," Danny spat back. "Your 'restaurant policy' is a load of garbage and you know it."
"I acted according to protocol!" Mr. Connor snapped. "If you have a problem with it, file a complaint like everyone else!"
"Protocol?" Danny laughed, bitter and sharp. "You mean punishing Zuria for something I did? I was the one who moved those tables. I was the one who defended her. So why is she the one getting punished?"
Mr. Connor didn't answer. His eyes flicked away, jaw clenched.
And then Danny said it.
"Or is it because she refused to be your little side chick?"
The words rang out like a slap across the room. I froze. My fingers slipped from his sleeve.
"Danny," I gasped.
Mr. Connor's mouth dropped open, his face turning a deep shade of red as he stared at Danny, stunned speechless.
"Don't act surprised," Danny growled. "You've tried this before—Zuria isn't the first and we all know it. You prey on women who need jobs, who don't have the power to say no."
"Danny, stop it." My voice was low, urgent. I gripped his shirt tighter now, my fingers trembling.
"No, Zuria. Not this time." He looked at me briefly, eyes burning. "You always tell me to keep quiet, and I do. But I won't let him get away with this anymore. Someone has to speak, and if no one else will, I will."
He turned back to Mr. Connor, voice rising.
"You're disgusting. And I'm done pretending you're not. I'm going to report you to the owner. This time, you're not getting out of it. You're either getting fired or going to jail."
Mr. Connor's expression twisted, the shock slipping away and being replaced by something far more dangerous—a slow, smug smirk.
"That won't happen," he said, voice low. "Not if I fire you first."
He stepped forward, closer to us. Too close. I could feel Danny's body vibrating with rage beside me, so I gripped his arm tightly now, trying to keep him grounded.
"It's not my fault," Mr. Connor sneered, and then turned his gaze on me. "She came into this restaurant, wide-eyed and desperate, begging me for a job. What was I supposed to do? She seduced me. You should blame her."
My hand dropped.
I stared at him, unable to breathe.
How could someone even say that?
Something inside me broke. I'd tried to hold Danny back, tried to be the calm one, the silent one. But at that moment, I didn't want to be silent anymore.
But Danny was faster.
His fist flew forward, slamming into Mr. Connor's face. The man stumbled backward and crashed into the row of chairs behind him. Before I could blink, Danny was on top of him, punching him again and again, each hit fueled by rage that had been simmering for far too long.
"Danny!" I cried out, though my voice sounded far away, weak under the chaos.
The other employees rushed forward, trying to pull him off. But Danny fought them, his fists relentless. Blood started to spill across the tiled floor. Mr. Connor groaned beneath him, his arms flailing in a failed attempt to shield himself.
It wasn't until Danny had truly had enough that he stood, chest heaving, fists clenched. The other guys backed away, unsure what to do next.
Mr. Connor rolled on the floor, bleeding and gasping.
"You two—" he growled from the ground, pointing a trembling finger. "You're fired! I don't ever want to see your faces in this restaurant again! Get out!"
I wasn't surprised. Not really. I'd known the moment Danny punched him, this would be the outcome. But still, my heart sank.
Danny lost his job because of me.
I stared at the floor, guilt crawling all over me like ants. What if I really was cursed?
But then I heard Danny speak, and it jolted me.
"Gladly," he said, his voice cold and sharp. "Who the hell would want to work in this disgusting place anyway?" He slung his bag over his shoulder and turned to me. "Let's go, Zuria."
I followed him out, but I couldn't help but look back. Mr. Connor was still writhing on the ground, blood staining his face, moaning in frustration.
Danny paused at the door, turning to the other employees who stood frozen in place.
"If you have any sense left, you'll get out of here too. No one should have to work under a man like him."
And then we were gone.
We walked for a long time in silence. I kept my eyes on the pavement, lost in thought. Danny walked ahead, just a few steps in front, until suddenly, he stopped.
I bumped into his back, startled.
"Danny?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he turned, grabbed my hand, and began to run.
"What are you—" I started, but the words died on my tongue.
He laughed—a full, free laugh that I hadn't heard in ages—and pulled me along. The wind rushed past my ears, sweeping my hair around my face. I looked at him, at the way his eyes sparkled, and decided to stop thinking for once. I ran.
I let my legs carry me forward, matching his pace. I felt the breeze on my cheeks, the burn in my lungs, the pounding of my heart—and for the first time in so long, I felt light. Weightless.
I let go of Danny's hand and ran ahead of him, arms spread wide.
The streetlights blurred above me, the stars blinking like they were proud of me. The world spun, but it felt right.
It was the most free I had ever felt in my life.
In that moment, I wasn't fired. I wasn't weak. I wasn't sad. I was just… me.
But I knew it wouldn't last.
Eventually, I would stop running. Eventually, the wind would die down. And when it did, the weight would come crashing back—just like it always did.
But for now, I ran.
For now, I was free.