Chapter 6 - Power Versus PermissionThe surrounding guests didn't even notice. To them, a young heir disciplining an insolent servant was nothing more than high-society background noise.
I didn't panic. I didn't pull away violently.
Instead, I looked straight into his drunken, glazed eyes, remembering the blood on my palm from the first day in the kitchen.
“Let go of my wrist, Joon-ho,” I said, my voice cutting through the ambient party chatter with cold, razor-sharp precision.
Joon-ho laughed loudly, leaning in close. “Or what? You’ll give me another stern lecture? You’re a servant in my family’s house. Know your—!”
Before he could finish the sentence, I shifted my weight, pivoted on my heel, and executed a sharp, textbook joint-lock compliance maneuver that instantly inverted his wrist.
Joon-ho let out a sharp, breathless shriek of pain as he stumbled forward, crashing hard against a decorative marble pillar.
The entire corridor went dead silent. Heads snapped around. Whispers erupted instantly.
“You—you bitch!” Joon-ho snarled, clutching his throbbing wrist as he stumbled back, his face crimson with humiliation. “Security! Drag this madwoman out of here—!”
“Keep your voice down, little boy,” I whispered, stepping right up to him, my eyes flashing with absolute authority. “You think you have power because your last name is Kang. But power is something you build. What you have is merely permission from a father who is about to take it all away.”
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Before Joon-ho could lunge at me, a sharp, commanding voice rang out across the mezzanine stairs.
“That is quite enough.”
