His Name is Law, I'm Self-Made

During the company dinner, everyone was allowed to order what they wanted.

But when it was my turn, Tyron, the new intern, suddenly snatched the menu out of my hands.

“That's enough. No more orders.”

I ignored him and turned to the waiter. “One vanilla bean panna cotta, please.”

Out of nowhere, Tyron slammed the menu right into my face, his eyes blazing.

“I said no more orders. What part of that didn’t you get? Who the hell do you think you are, huh?”

The edge of the menu scraped across my cheek, leaving a burning red line. My patience snapped clean in an instant.

I didn’t even think twice; I grabbed the menu and slapped it right back into his smug face. He instantly exploded, roaring like a lunatic.

“Son of a bitch! Do you even know who you’re messing with? My mother is Thelma Appleton—this company’s biggest client!

“Even the CEO shows me respect! You touch me again, and I’ll make sure your entire 500,000 bonus gets wiped out—and I’ll have every company in the industry blacklist your ass!”

I froze—completely thrown off.

Thelma Appleton? My aunt who’s been single for forty years and has never had a kid in her life?

Since when did she suddenly have a full-grown son?

——

Seeing me caught off guard, Tyron’s ego went through the roof.

“What? Cat got your tongue? A clown like you, winning contracts with your face—letting you sit at this table already lowers the air quality. And you still think you get to order?”

Winning deals with my looks?

I wake up before sunrise to write proposals, spend eight hours a day on construction sites, covered in dust and getting burned so dark my own mother has to squint to recognize me. And this idiot thinks I skate by on my face?

I slid my chair back, stood up, and locked eyes with him.

“Listen carefully. I earn everything I have by working my ass off. Everyone here knows that. You? You’re just an intern. You haven’t earned the right to talk.

“And let’s get this straight—this is a company dinner, not your party. If I’m not worthy to order, you’re even less so. No wonder this place stinks; turns out it’s just your mouth spewing nonsense.”

Around us, the entire room looked down, shoulders shaking from trying not to laugh.

They’d all had it with Tyron. One month in the company and he’d been acting like everyone was his personal staff.

Once, the new hire Lilla Gurt refused to fetch his coffee.

He dumped the entire cup over her head, burning her scalp so badly it blistered.

And he didn’t even apologize. He threatened her instead.

“Try to make me apologize, and I’ll make sure you get kicked out of this company!”

The company ended up covering her medical bills.

I wanted to step in back then, but my colleagues held me back.

I always wondered why everyone just swallowed their anger.

Turns out everyone was terrified of his “Thelma Appleton’s son” title.

Tyron’s face flushed bright red as he jabbed a finger at me.

“Boy, stop trying to act tough here! Without my mom, this company would already be bankrupt. I’m telling you right now—tonight’s dinner goes by my rules! If I say you don’t order, you don’t!

“You’re just a piece of shit! How dare you act cocky? You order one dish, just one, and I’ll make sure you’re fired tomorrow!”

The waiter looked at me nervously.

“S-Sir, should I still place your order?”

“Yes, please,” I answered without a hint of hesitation.

What the hell was this? I bring in projects worth tens of millions in this company, and I’m not allowed to order one damn dessert?

“What’s all this yelling?”

Our CEO, Rayner Fogarty, pushed open the door, his face dark as storm clouds.

“A company dinner isn’t where you come to fight. What’s going on?”

But Tyron cut him off, spinning the story as if he were the victim.

Before I could speak, Rayner’s sharp gaze landed on me.

“Conley, you’ve been here for a year. You should know by now that frugality is one of our core policies.

“Tyron was just thinking about the company’s finances. Was one dish really worth the trouble?”