CHAPTER FOUR HUNDRED AND FORTY SEVEN – HARSH CRITICS

The next hour was excruciating. Castillo found fault with everything - the temperature of the wine, the seasoning of the food, the speed of service. With each criticism, Jasmine felt herself shrinking, acutely aware of the watching eyes of staff and customers alike. "This risotto," Castillo declared loudly, pushing away his barely-touched plate, "is an insult to Italian cuisine. It's underseasoned, overcooked, and frankly, Mrs. Cesaro, I expected better." Jasmine felt her cheeks burn. "I'm so sorry, General. Please, allow us to prepare something else for you." Castillo waved his hand dismissively. "Don't bother. I've seen enough for tonight." As he stood to leave, he leaned in close to Jasmine. "Meet me outside in five minutes," he murmured, his breath hot on her ear. Jasmine watched him go, her heart pounding. She turned to find Marco staring at her from across the room, his expression a mix of concern and frustration. Five minutes later, Jasmine stepped out into the cool night