Gemotions

The review, a crumpled mass of paper, lay in the ashtray, smoke curling around its edges. Chef Zara watched it burn, a grim satisfaction twisting her lips. "Overpriced," the critic had written. "Lacking value." Zara scoffed, the sound sharp and dismissive.

She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, her eyes narrowed. She had worked tirelessly, sourcing the best ingredients, crafting dishes that were works of art. And for what? For some hack to dismiss it all?

She reached for the phone. "Get me the accounts," she ordered her accountant, her voice cold. "I want to see exactly how much profit we made last week." Then, she would decide how to respond.