Gemotions

He stared at the menu, the words blurring before his eyes. "The Duchess's Delightful Dumplings" – a name that, in his head, screamed blatant plagiarism. The recipe was his, a family heirloom, carefully refined over decades. He'd never shared it.

A coldness settled in his gut. His hands were clasched tightly as if they were holding onto something. He needed to get up and leave, to do something, anything. His eyes darted around the restaurant, analyzing the people, their reactions.

He had to protect what was his.