Gemotions

The steam from the pot of simmering tomato sauce clouded Marco's glasses, but it did little to obscure the rage that was building inside him. "Naples Nights," the sauce was called now. A sauce he’d painstakingly developed over years, using his family's passed-down techniques. Now, it was being mass-produced and sold in every grocery store in the country.

He slammed the wooden spoon against the countertop, the sound echoing in the small kitchen. His shoulders were tight, his back a rigid line. He felt a throbbing sensation behind his eyes.

He imagined the smug look on the face of the food magnate who had, as far as Marco knew, stolen his recipe. The thought alone was enough to make him want to throw something. He glared at the simmering pot, the delicious aroma now turning into a source of bitter resentment.