Chapter 4 - THE INTRUSION
Estela pushed open the glass door of the VIP room without knocking. The sound echoed sharply, breaking the quiet atmosphere Marcos and Lourdes had shared.
"Marcos! Mr. Albuquerque!" Estela gasped, forcing a brittle, high-pitched laugh as she stepped inside, desperate to inject herself into the scene. She plastered on a fake, dazzling smile, though her eyes were darting nervously between the owner and her employee. "I saw you from my table and I just had to come over. I had no idea you were entertaining... well, personal guests of honor."
Marcos slowly turned his head to look at her. The warmth he had shown Lourdes vanished instantly, replaced by an arctic chill that made the temperature in the room drop twenty degrees. He didn't stand up. He didn't invite her to sit. He simply looked at her the way a scientist might examine a particularly repulsive insect under a microscope.
"Can I help you, Madame?" Marcos asked, his voice dripping with polite venom.
Estela faltered for a second, feeling the crushing weight of his stare, but she pressed on, her desperation overriding her common sense. She cast a scathing look at Lourdes, who shrank back slightly in her plush velvet chair.
"Well, I was just concerned," Estela simpered, trying to spin a web of lies. "You see, this is my... domestic employee. She must have wandered in here by mistake. She gets a bit confused sometimes, poor thing. I gave her some money to wait outside, but she clearly doesn't understand the rules of a place like Casa D’Ouro. I'm so sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. Albuquerque. I’ll take her back outside immediately."
Lourdes swallowed hard, her eyes filling with shame as she looked down at her worn sandals. But before she could stand up, Marcos slammed his hand flat against the mahogany table.
The sharp crack made Estela jump.
"She didn't wander in here by mistake, Madame," Marcos said, his voice deadly quiet, carrying a resonance that made the glass walls seem to vibrate. "I invited her. In fact, if it wasn't for this woman sitting right here, I wouldn't own this restaurant, I wouldn't have a single real cent to my name, and you wouldn't be sitting out there pretending to be an aristocrat."
Estela blinked, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "I... I don't understand. She's just a maid. She works for me. She cleans my house!"
"She is my benefactor," Marcos corrected her, standing up slowly. He towered over Estela, his dark eyes flashing with suppressed fury. "And you... you forced her to sit outside in the scorching heat, humiliated her, threw a fifty-real bill at her like she was a stray dog, and told her she'd ruin your appetite."
The blood drained completely from Estela's face. The room spun. He heard. He had seen the whole thing from the entrance or heard about it from the valet.
"Mr. Albuquerque—Marcos, please," Estela stammered, her voice cracking as panic finally took hold. "It was just a misunderstanding! It's how things are done! You know how hired help is, they need boundaries, I didn't mean—"
"Security," Marcos said loudly, cutting her off completely.
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Two large, immaculately dressed security guards appeared at the glass door instantly, having anticipated the call.
"Escort this woman off the premises," Marcos ordered, pointing a steady finger toward the exit. "And make sure she understands that she, her husband, and any company associated with her are permanently banned from Casa D’Ouro, effective immediately."
