The Morning Rush and the Cursed Commute

The morning in Milan came with a smooth, golden glow, though in the apartment on Via Mozart, it felt more like a furious countdown. The air becomes thick with the scent of freshly brewed espresso, burnt toast, and a dizzying blend of three different perfumes.

Rose had just stumbled through the front door, face pale and eyes heavy after a grueling twelve-hour night shift at the sanatorium. Her scrubs have been wrinkled, and all she wanted was to disappear into bed for a century. However, she knew that her roommates were facing a massive day, and sleep might have to wait.

In the hallway, the sound of rhythmic clicking filled the air. Erica was in full "Sales Manager" mode, darting in and out of her bedroom. One moment she was wearing a silk cream blouse, the next she was swapping it for a sharp pinstriped shirt. She was a whirlwind of professional energy, huffing as she struggled to pick the perfect pair of heels to match her power suit.

Meanwhile, Selena stood in the center of her room, a silent statue amidst the storm. She was already dressed in the decided outfit the charcoal blazer fitting her shoulders like a second skin. Her hands, however, wouldn't stop moving. She was obsessively rechecking her documents for the tenth time.

CV? Check. Cover letter? Check. Portfolio? Check. "Breakfast is on the table! Move it or you're both going to be late!" Rose's voice echoed from the kitchen, sounding surprisingly authoritative for someone who looked like a zombie.

Erica and Selena scrambled toward the small dining table at the same time, nearly colliding in the narrow hallway. They slumped into their chairs, the atmosphere vibrating with nervous energy. Selena's plate of eggs sat untouched; her stomach felt like it was being squeezed by a giant fist.

"Eat, Sel," Rose said, leaning against the counter as she sipped a coffee that looked strong enough to wake the dead. "You can't ace an interview if your brain is starving. Everything is going to be fine. You look like a million euros."

"I look like I'm about to throw up a million euros," Selena muttered, her voice trembling.

Erica reached over, playfully flicking a piece of toast toward Selena. "Oh, stop it. With that blazer on, you look like you're going to buy the company, not apply for a job. Just remember, if the CEO is as mean as they say, just imagine him in his underwear. Works every time for my difficult clients."

Rose let out a tired laugh. "Erica, don't give her advice that will make her burst out laughing in the middle of a board room! Just be yourself, Sel. You're smart, you're capable, and you're the hardest worker I know."

Selena offered a small, grateful smile, but her hand immediately went back to her phone. "I need to book a cab. The metro will take too long with these heels."

She opened the app, her thumb hovering over the 'Book Now' button. A red warning flashed at the top of the screen: Signal weak. Searching for GPS... 

Selena moaned and waved her phone in the air like she was trying to catch a butterfly. "Are you kidding me?" she asked. "This building's signals are really old! It's not verifying. It simply displays 'Finding Driver' and remains there. Erica took a big bite out of her croissant and added, "Don't panic. Just finish your coffee and leave it on 'search'. Like cats, Milanese drivers only show up when they feel like it. Watching the small automobile icon spin in circles, Selena placed the phone face-up on the table. She attempted to bite onto a piece of bread, but her gaze remained fixed on the screen.Waiting for a confirmation that would determine whether she arrived at Valenti Tower as a professional or as a hot, panting mess, she was caught in a digital limbo.

With each second that went by, the wall clock seemed to be ticking away more loudly. 8:15 a.m. Selena's phone screen still had the small automobile icon spinning in a derisive circle. Looking for drivers... "That's all. Selena quickly sprang up and exclaimed, "I can't wait anymore." The floor was violently scraped by the chair. "At this point, the software is worthless. I'll simply stroll to the major thoroughfare and request a cab there. They won't even let me past the security desk, and I'll miss the 9:00 AM window if I stay here for five more minutes."

Rose looked up, her brow furrowed with concern. "Sel, are you sure? You know how this neighborhood is. It's all private villas and quiet lanes. Taxis don't just cruise around Via Mozart looking for passengers. You might have to walk quite a bit before you find one.

"I don't have a choice, Rose!" Selena's voice rose a pitch higher with panic. She grabbed her file and checked her reflection one last time her hair was perfect, but her eyes looked wide and startled.

Erica stood up, jingling her car keys. "Look, I'll drop you. I can't leave you wandering the streets like a lost kitten."

Selena shook her head firmly. "No, Erica. Your office is in the completely opposite direction. If you drive me to the Valenti Tower first, you'll be stuck in the morning rush hour traffic and you'll be late for your own meeting. I'm not letting you get in trouble because of my bad luck."

"I can manage, Sel" Erica started, but Selena was already heading for the door.

"No! You've already done enough by lending me this lucky blazer. I'll manage. I'll run if I have to."

The three of them moved toward the apartment door. Erica, already fully dressed in her sharp sales-manager attire, slung her laptop bag over her shoulder. Rose, despite her exhaustion, walked them to the hallway, leaning against the doorframe to give them a proper send-off.

"Good luck, Sel," Rose said, her voice smooth and encouraging. "Remember, you're not just an applicant anymore. You're the individual they've been looking forward to. Take a deep breath."

"And keep that in mind!" Erica added with a wink as they stepped into the elevator. "Imagine him in his underwear if he gets too bold!"

Selena laughed nervously as the elevator doors began to close. She saw Rose wave one last time before the metal doors closed, leaving her and Erica in the mirrored container. When they reached the floor, they stepped out into the crisp, quiet morning on Via Mozart.

The air grew dark, however, and the street was eminently empty a stark comparison to the storm brewing inside Selena's chest.

"Okay, that's it," Erica said, giving Selena's shoulder a supportive squeeze. "I'm going to the parking garage. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," Selena sounded, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Go. Win your deals. I'm going to move and get a job."

They separated. Erica headed toward the car, and Selena turned toward the long, rocky lane that led toward the main road. As she began her walk, her heels clicking rhythmically against the historic stones, she had no idea that her "lucky" day would collide quite literally with a middle of the night black Bentley.

Selena began her journey down the winding streets of Via Mozart. Every step in her excessive heels felt like a calculated chance on the uneven rocks. My eyes darted left and right, trying to find the familiar yellow glow of a taxi sign, but the street remained stubbornly empty. The silence of elite society that didn't normally feel violent now felt like a ticking time bomb.

"Please, just one taxi," she whispered, checking her watch. 8:32 AM.

A few blocks away, the silence was broken by the sputtering cough of a high-performance engine. A midnight-black Bentley Flying Spur slowed to a humiliating crawl before finally shuddering to a halt right in the middle of the narrow road.

Inside the car, the air was cold and smelled of expensive sandalwood. Sam Valenti sat in the back, his jaw tight as he looked at the digital clock on the dashboard. He didn't look like a man who dealt well with delays.

"Status, Marco?" Sam's voice was a low, dangerous rumble.

The driver, Marco, sighed and tried to ignite the engine one more time. Only a pathetic clicking sound responded. Marco wasn't just a driver; he and Sam had grown up in the same rough neighborhood before Sam had built his empire. They were brothers in everything but blood, which was the only reason Marco was still alive after the car died on the most important morning of the year.

"She's dead, Boss," Marco said, leaning back and rubbing his face. He turned around to look at Sam, dropping the professional act. "Look, Sam, the radiator is blown. If you stay here, you're going to miss the opening of the board meeting and those vultures will start circling."

Sam closed his eyes for a second, his fingers tapping a rhythmic, impatient beat on his leather briefcase. "I don't do 'late', Marco. You know that."

"Then get out and start walking," Marco suggested, pointing toward the main road. "Go find a taxi. I'll stay here, call the tow truck, and get this beauty fixed. If you move now, you can still make it to the Tower by nine."

Sam let out a frustrated breath, reaching for his silver-rimmed aviator sunglasses. He stepped out of the car, his charcoal suit shimmering under the morning sun. Standing there, he looked less like a stranded passenger and more like a king whose chariot had failed him.

"You owe me a drink for this, Marco," Sam muttered, straightening his tie.

"I owe you a whole bottle of Scotch if you actually manage to hail a cab looking that grumpy," Marco joked with a grin.

Sam didn't find it funny. He slammed the heavy door shut and began to walk. The CEO of The Valenti Group, a man who controlled billions, was now just another pedestrian on the hunt for a ride. He turned the corner with long, hurried strides, his grey eyes scanning the horizon with predatory intensity completely unaware that a girl in a 'lucky' blazer was about to cross his path.

Sam's long strides took him past a small, quaint Italian deli. Just outside, a yellow taxi was idling by the curb a sight more beautiful to him at that moment than a vintage Ferrari. He approached the driver, who was leaning against the door.

"Is this taxi available?" Sam asked, his voice commanding even in a moment of desperation.

The driver nodded, wiping his hands on a rag. "Yes, Signor. Just give me a minute, I need to grab a bottle of water from the shop. You can get in, I'll be right back."

"Make it quick," Sam replied, already reaching for the rear door handle. He was looking toward the shop, checking the time on his platinum watch, his face still turned away from the street as he pulled the door open for himself.

On the other side of the road, Selena saw the door swing open. From her angle, it looked like the driver was being incredibly polite and opening the door for her. "Finally! A miracle!" she gasped, breaking into a desperate run.

Before Sam could even step a foot inside, a blur of charcoal grey and the scent of jasmine swept past him. Selena dived into the backseat, her file clutched to her chest.

"Thank you so much! You can close the door, I've got it! Just start the engine and go, I'm in a massive hurry!" she rushed out, not even looking at the person standing by the door.

Sam froze, his hand still on the door handle. He slowly turned his head to look at the woman who had just hijacked his ride. He looked at her with a mix of disbelief and cold amusement.

"Excuse me, Miss," Sam's deep voice vibrated through the small space of the car. "I think you've misunderstood the situation. This is my taxi."

Selena finally looked up, her breath hitching as her eyes met his. The man standing there was intimidatingly handsome, with sharp eyes and an aura of power that made the tiny taxi feel even smaller. It was a surprise, but her panic was still stronger than her intimidation.

"I know it's yours!" she shot back, her voice high with stress, assuming he was arguing about the fare. "I never said it was mine! Look, whatever the fare is, I'll double it. Just go! I'm running incredibly late!"

Sam leaned down, resting his arm on the top of the open door, looking at her with a calm but firm expression. He realized her mistake immediately. "Miss, I think you are the one misunderstanding here. I'm not the driver. This is my booked taxi. Now, kindly step out."

Selena's face flushed. "Oh... okay. Sorry." She scrambled out of the car, her heels clicking on the pavement. She stood there for a second, looking at the empty street and then back at the taxi. "Wait! Please... can't you just let me have it? I really, really need to get to an interview."

Sam adjusted his cufflinks, his expression unreadable. "I also have a very important place to be. However..." He paused, his piercing blue eyes scanning her distressed face. "If you're that desperate, we could share the ride. It's going in the same direction toward the city center anyway."

Selena stepped back, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Share? I don't even know you. My friends told me never to get into a car with a stranger."

Sam let out a short, dry puff of air that was almost a laugh. He looked at the shop where the driver was still waiting at the counter. "And the taxi driver? Do you know him personally?"

Selena's mouth fell open. The sarcasm hit her like a cold splash of water. Her face turned a deep shade of crimson, her grip tightening on her file. "That... that is not funny! You are incredibly rude!"

"I'm also the one with the taxi," Sam pointed out calmly.

"Fine! Keep your taxi! I'd rather walk ten miles in these heels than sit next to someone as arrogant as you!" Selena snapped. She turned on her heel and began to march away, her head held high even as her heart was sinking with every step.

Sam watched her go, a genuine, rare smirk spreading across his face. He found her outburst surprisingly entertaining. "Good luck with the walk, 'Not-Cinderella'," he muttered under his breath, a low chuckle escaping him as he finally climbed into the car.

Selena marched down the sidewalk, her face flushed with a mixture of rage and humiliation. Every step she took in her high heels felt like she was stomping on that arrogant man's face. She was muttering under her breath, mimicking his deep voice with a mocking twist.

Do you know the taxi driver personally?... Ugh! What an insufferable, arrogant jerk!" she hissed, gesturing wildly with her free hand. "I should have wiped that smug look right off his face. He ruined my entire mood! If I ever see him again, I swear I'll show him exactly who he's dealing with."

Meanwhile, inside the taxi, a sharp, energetic ringtone began to blare. The driver glanced into the rearview mirror. "Signor, I think your phone is ringing."

Sam checked his pockets and shook his head dismissively. "It's not mine."

But the ringing continued, persistent and shrill. Sam's brows knit together in annoyance. He was already behind schedule, and this noise was grating on his last nerve. "Look, if you don't want to answer it, at least put it on silent! That ringtone is incredibly irritating," Sam said, his voice laced with cold authority.

The driver held up his own phone, showing a dark, silent screen. "But Signor, it's not my mobile. It must be yours."

"I told you, it's not mine!" Sam snapped. Just as he was about to lose his patience, he noticed a flash of light on the floor near his feet. A bright, slightly scratched smartphone was vibrating against the carpet.

Sam leaned down and picked it up. The screen lit up with the word 'Erica & Rose' flashing across it. In an instant, the realization hit him. A slow, knowing smirk spread across his lips.

"It seems our 'Wildcat' dropped her lifeline," he murmured to himself, a hint of dark amusement in his eyes. He looked out the window and then tapped the driver on the shoulder.

"Wait. Stay on this road and keep the speed low. She couldn't have gone far on those heels; she has to be on the sidewalk nearby."

The driver slowed the taxi to a crawl. Less than two minutes later, Sam spotted the charcoal-grey blazer. Selena was power-walking like a woman on a mission, occasionally tossing her hair back in frustration.

Sam had the driver pull over a safe distance behind her. He stepped out of the car, straightened his navy suit jacket, and began to jog toward her. Selena was still lost in her internal monologue, cursing him out in her head, when suddenly that familiar scent of expensive sandalwood and that rich, baritone voice cut through her thoughts.

"Miss! Listen to me for a second," he called out.

Selena whirled around, her eyes blazing with fury the moment she saw his face. Before Sam could even open his mouth to explain, she exploded. "You! Are you seriously following me now? You look like a decent, educated man, but your actions are pathetic!"

"Miss, please" Sam tried to intervene, but Selena was on a roll.

"I understand exactly what you're thinking, but I'm not that girl anymore!" She looked down and noticed a smartphone in his hand, her eyes widening with even more anger. "Oh, I see! So now you're going to get my fill? You rude, low-sized jerk! What did you think? That I was inspired to use this?"

She snatched the cell phone from his hand with a violent jerk. "You want my number so bad? Here!" Instead of giving him the phone number, she grew to become round and immediately threw the device into a nearby overflowing trash can with all her might.

Sam stood there, bowling over to break up, his eyebrows popping up. "What on earth did you simply do? "I threw your cell phone away! You get that for being a creep!" Selena gulped and crossed her palms defiantly.

However, a familiar, muted ringtone began to blast from inside the garbage can at that very moment. Brring! Brring!

In an instant, Sam's expression of disbelief turned into a slow, evil grin. Selena froze. The knowledge hit her like a ton of bricks, and her heart missed a beat. It was her ringtone.

Her hands trembling, she delved hurriedly into her bag, but the side pocket was empty. Her gaze flitted from Sam's arrogant face to the rubbish and back to her empty bag."Miss, I've been trying to tell you that for the past two minutes," Sam remarked, his voice brimming with laughter.You couldn't have said it outright? That it was my phone?" she stammered, her face flushing scarlet.

Sam laughed, a deep, dark laugh. "And when did you give me a chance to talk? You didn't pay attention to a single phrase because you were too busy labeling me a "low-class jerk."

He turned on his heel, strolled back toward his waiting taxi, and gave her one more look of pure amusement. When Selena realized she had to retrieve her own phone from a foul-smelling garbage can, she remained there, frozen with shame.

The window slipped down as the cab came up next her. With a mocking smile on his lips, Sam leaned out and put his silver-rimmed sunglasses back on."Have a pleasant day, Miss!" he shouted over the hum of the motor.

The taxi sped away, leaving Selena standing next to the dustbin, the smell of garbage hitting her nose as she prepared for the ultimate walk of shame.

Selena scrunched up her nose, reaching into the dustbin to fish out her phone with two fingers. "Yuck!" she shrieked, seeing a bit of grime stuck to the corner of her device. She frantically pulled a tissue from her bag and began scrubbing it, her entire body trembling with a mix of rage and lingering embarrassment.

Just then, her phone buzzed again it was a group call from Erica and Rose. Selena answered it immediately, her voice thick with frustration as she recounted the entire chaotic scene: the fight over the taxi, the "arrogant jerk," her dramatic phone-toss, and how he had laughed in her face before driving away.

Erica, on the other side of the screen, burst into fits of laughter. "Seriously, Sel? I mean, come on, he had a point! He was right do you actually know the taxi driver? He totally trapped you with your own logic!"

"Erica! Not helping!" Selena snapped, though her face was still burning bright red.

Rose's calm voice cut through Erica's giggling. "Erica, stop teasing her. Selena, honey, take a deep breath. Forget about that man and what happened on the street. Just focus on your interview now. You've worked too hard for this. Go inside, or you really will be late."

Rose's words acted like a soothing balm. Selena took a long, shaky breath, straightened her charcoal blazer, and tucked her hair behind her ears. She looked up, and there it was The Valenti Tower.

It was a gargantuan pillar of glass and steel that seemed to pierce the Milanese sky, reflecting the morning sun like a jagged diamond. It looked intimidating, powerful, and utterly unreachable.

"Okay, I'm going in. Pray for me!" Selena whispered. She ended the call, clutched her file tightly to her chest, and marched toward the grand glass entrance. She had finally made it to the location, oblivious to the fact that the "jerk" from the street was currently riding the private elevator to the very top floor.

Selena stepped into the towering lobby of Valenti Towers, her heels clicking on the polished marble floors that shone like a mirror. She approached the sleek, modern reception desk, trying to keep her hands from trembling.

"Good morning. I'm Selena, and I'm here for the job interview for the position of Executive Assistant to Mr. Sam Valenti," she said, her voice remarkably steady.

The receptionist looked up and offered a professional smile. "Ah, yes. Top floor, Miss. Mr. Valenti will be conducting the interview himself. Please, this way take the private elevator to the penthouse level."

Selena's heart skipped a beat. Sam Valenti? He's interviewing me himself? The name alone carried so much weight that she felt a wave of nausea. Whispering prayers under her breath, she stepped into the luxurious elevator.

As the lift reached the third floor, the doors slid open with a soft chime. Selena was busy straightening the edges of her file, but as she looked up, her breath hitched.

Standing there was the stranger from the street. The "Bentley Jerk."

The moment their eyes met, Selena's defensive walls went right back up. "You! Are you seriously following me now?" she snapped.

Sam Valenti stepped into the lift, his expression unreadable. "I was about to say the same to you, Miss. I think you're the one following me."

"I am here for a job interview!" Selena shot back, clutching her files. "And you? What are you doing here?"

Sam leaned back against the mirrored wall, his hands casually in his pockets. "I work here. This is my office."

Selena let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "The way you say it makes it sound like you're Sam Valenti himself. Please! You're probably just a peon or a low-level clerk here. But don't worry," she added with a smug toss of her hair, "Once I'm appointed as the Assistant Of Sam Valenti, I'll make sure you get a promotion. I'll look out for you."

A slow, dangerous smirk began to form on Sam's lips, but before he could respond, a violent jolt shook the elevator. The lights flickered and then died, replaced by a dim, red emergency glow. The lift ground to a terrifying halt.

"What... what's happening?" Selena gasped, her voice thinning with panic.

"It's nothing," Sam said calmly. "These things happen. It'll be fixed in a minute or two."

But Selena wasn't listening. Her files slipped from her fingers, scattering across the floor. Her breathing became shallow and jagged. The walls felt like they were closing in on her. "Open the door! Please, open it! I have claustrophobia... I can't... I can't breathe!"

Sam's expression shifted from amusement to concern. "Relax, Miss. I can help you, but you have to promise not to start screaming."

"Do anything! Just save me! I can't breathe!" she sobbed

Without a second word, Sam reached out, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her firmly toward him. Before she could protest, she was tucked against his chest, completely wrapped in his arms.

Selena froze. The world narrowed down to the rhythmic thud of his heart and the intoxicating fragrance of his expensive, sandalwood perfume. She felt completely lost in his presence. Sam began to run his fingers gently through her hair, his voice a low, soothing hum near her ear. "Relax... just breathe. It's going to be okay."

He leaned in slightly, his nose brushing against her hair. "Your shampoo... it smells nice," he murmured.

Startled, Selena pulled her head back just enough to look up at him. She was met with those piercing blue eyes, the sharp eyebrows, and a face so handsome it felt illegal. They were so close she could feel the heat radiating off his skin. She had never been this close to a man in her life.

"Let... let me go," she whispered, though her voice lacked conviction.

Sam gently pressed her head back against his chest. "I'll let you go when the lift starts moving. Now, just relax."

Selena didn't fight him this time. She leaned back into the warmth of his chest, feeling a strange sense of safety she couldn't explain.

A moment later, the lights flickered back to life and the lift began its smooth ascent. Immediately, Sam released her, stepping back as if nothing had happened. He straightened his blazer and adjusted his collar, looking perfectly composed.

The doors chimed as they reached the top floor. Sam stepped out without a backward glance, leaving Selena standing there in a daze. It took her several seconds to snap back to reality. She scrambled to pick up her fallen files, her heart still racing.

Selena stepped out, looking left and right, but the stranger was nowhere to be seen."Where did he go? Disappeared into thin air?" she muttered, adjusting her blazer. "Whatever. Forget that arrogant monkey. He probably thinks he owns the sky just because he works in a tall building."

She noticed that the entire floor was quiet, devoid of the usual office bustle. At the end of the long, plushly carpeted corridor stood a pair of massive, dark oak doors. Embossed in gold letters were the words: CEO  SAM VALENTI.

Downstairs, the receptionist made a quick call to the Junior Assistant. "The candidate for the Executive Assistant position has arrived." The message was relayed upward until it finally reached the man inside the sanctuary.

Selena stood before the massive doors, her heart hammering against her ribs so hard it felt painful. She took a deep breath, straightened her "lucky" blazer, and knocked softly.

"Come in."

The voice from inside was sharp, deep, and carried an undeniable edge of authority. It sent a shiver down Selena's spine. She pushed the doors open and stepped into an office that looked more like a glass palace. The far wall was a single, massive window overlooking the entire city of Milan.

In front of the window sat a large, high-backed leather chair. It was turned away from the door, facing the skyline. All Selena could see was the back of the chair and the faint trail of expensive cigar smoke drifting into the air.

The silence was deafening. Selena stood there, rooted to the spot, feeling smaller than she ever had before.

"Who are you, and why are you here?" The man didn't turn around. His voice was cold, professional, and completely devoid of emotion.

"I... I am Selena," she stammered, trying to regain her poise. "I am here for the job interview... for the position of your Executive Assistant."

"Alright."

Slowly, the massive chair began to creak as it rotated. As the figure came into view, Selena's eyes widened until they felt like they would pop out of her head. Her jaw dropped, and for a moment, she forgot how to breathe.

Sitting in the CEO's chair, looking perfectly at home, was the stranger from the street. The "Bentley Jerk." The man she had just hugged in the elevator.

"You?!" Selena gasped, pointing a shaking finger at him. "You... you monkey! What are you doing here? Do you even know whose chair you're sitting in? This is Sam Valenti's office! Get out of there before you get into serious trouble! Are you insane? If he walks in and sees you, he'll have you fired in a second!"

The man didn't flinch. He didn't move. He simply leaned back, interlacing his fingers over his chest, watching her with a terrifyingly calm expression.

"I am Sam Valenti, Miss Selena."

Selena let out a sharp, hysterical laugh. "Nice joke! Really, but I'm not laughing. Now stop playing around and get out of that chair before the real boss arrives."

Sam didn't respond. He didn't offer an explanation. He just sat there, his piercing blue eyes scanning her from head to toe, unblinking and icy. The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.

A cold realization began to wash over Selena. The way the receptionist had bowed, the way he carried himself, the expensive suit, the sheer power radiating from him... it wasn't a joke.

"Wait... if you... if you are actually Mr. Valenti..." Her voice trailed off into a whisper.

Sam didn't say a word. He simply offered a small, dark smirk the same one he'd used when she threw her phone in the trash.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. Selena felt her knees go weak. A million thoughts raced through her mind like a storm. I called him jerk. I called him a monkey. I told him he was a peon. I threw my phone at him. I literally screamed at the most powerful man in Milan.

She felt a total blackout coming on. Her mind was screaming: He's going to destroy me. He'll never give me the job. He's going to throw me out of this building himself! As she stood there, pale and trembling under his steady, predatory gaze, only one question remained: What was Sam Valenti going to do with the girl who had just insulted him to his face?