The Big Boss won't swallow

Holman’s hands shook as he clasped them behind his back, watching nervously from the shadows.

It had been over an hour since the first chef’s dish was presented, and the clock continued to tick as each of the Saint House’s top chefs submitted their finest creations to the Big Boss.

One by one, the Big Boss sampled the dishes—an artful seafood risotto, a delicate truffle-infused soufflé, a perfectly seared duck breast glazed in rare citrus reductions.

With each bite, he’d lift his fork, place the morsel on his tongue, and chew slowly, his face revealing absolutely nothing.

After only one taste, he would set his fork down, his expression as blank and impenetrable as it had been from the start.

He didn’t swallow.

This was the first time something like this had happened at the Saint's Plate.

No one had ever not swallowed a dish. It was the greatest insult dealt to the Saint House.

Holman wanted the earth to swallow him.

The tension in the room grew thicker with each dish.

The hea
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