He Threw Wine On Me, So I Revoked His Platinum Status And Made Him My Personal Assistant

Part 1: The Storm and the Snub

The storm raged outside, a furious symphony of wind and rain battering the windows of the lonely 24-hour diner. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of fried food and desperation. Neon lights cast a sickly glow on the wet linoleum, reflecting off the cracked vinyl booths. Vivian Beaumont, a vision of pampered privilege in her cream cashmere coat, seethed. Her flight had been diverted, marooning her in this godforsaken place. She’d ordered a glass of Cabernet, and then Liam, a junior flight attendant barely out of his teens, had approached her table. A clumsy bump, a spilled drink, and suddenly Vivian’s world imploded. With a shriek of pure, unadulterated fury, she snatched her glass and flung the expensive red wine directly into Liam’s face. The liquid arced through the air, a shocking crimson streak against the dingy diner backdrop, before splattering across his uniform and tarnished wings. “Know your place, you pathetic sky-waiter!” she spat, her voice dripping with malice. Liam stood frozen, the cold wine dripping from his eyelashes, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and humiliation. He remained silent, his jaw clenched, as Vivian crossed her arms, a smug, triumphant smirk playing on her lips. In the booth adjacent, a man named Marcus Vance watched the entire exchange, his piercing steel-blue eyes narrowing with a chilling disgust that was far more damning than any outburst.

“Ma’am, the ground stop was ordered by Federal Aviation for passenger safety.”

Liam finally managed to stammer, his voice trembling but his professional discipline holding firm. Vivian, however, was unyielding. She slammed her diamond-ringed hand onto the table, the sharp crack echoing through the sudden silence. “I’m VIP Platinum! I’ll have you fired and blacklisted before dawn!” she shrieked, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at his chest. Liam’s fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles white. Just as Vivian seemed poised to deliver another verbal blow, Marcus Vance rose from his seat. He was a man who commanded attention, his broad shoulders filling the space as he stepped between the two, a silent, imposing figure bathed in the flickering fluorescent light.