He believes Mackenzie, but...

Nico sighed, running a hand through his hair. His gaze, far from showing commiseration, swept over Mackenzie's naked, trembling body with a cold, calculating curiosity.

"Mackenzie, is it? I've heard both of you. And, after weighing it up..." He paused dramatically, looking at Janet, who held her breath, and then back at the naked redhead. "...the situation is clearer than you think."

Mackenzie felt a flash of hope. "So you believe me? Mr. Fortunato, please, she—"

"I believe," Nico interrupted him, raising a hand, "that business tonight was exceptional. Unusually good. Full tables, constant orders, an atmosphere... electric." His eyes settled on Mackenzie's breasts, making her instinctively flinch. "Janet had mentioned an 'experiment with uniforms' to me. But seeing the final result... is much more persuasive."

"W-what?" Mackenzie murmured, confused.

"I'm not going to fire you, Mackenzie," Nico declared, and a strange smile spread across his lips. "In fact, you've just demonstrated the value of a new service concept. A concept that, apparently, customers love."

Janet, immediately grasping the direction of the conversation, allowed a wide, sinister smile to spread across her face. "That's exactly what I tried to explain to you, Nico. Mackenzie here... is a pioneer."

"What are you talking about?" Mackenzie asked, panic raising the tone of her voice. A chill worse than the air conditioning began to run down her spine.

"It's simple," Nico said, as if explaining the most obvious thing in the world. "Your nakedness tonight wasn't an accident, or a punishment. It was a prototype. And it was a resounding success." He took a step closer, his presence becoming oppressive. "Therefore, starting from your next shift, this... natural presentation... will be your new official uniform."

The words echoed in the small office like a gunshot. Mackenzie heard them, but her brain refused to process them. Official uniform. The phrase repeated, becoming more obscene each time. It wasn't the end of her nightmare, it was the sentence that it would become permanent. She would become the naked waitress. An attraction. A thing.

She saw her future unfold in a ghastly loop: the same stares, the same hands, the same humiliation, night after night. Always exposed, always the property of the customers' gazes and Janet's perverse tyranny. The resignation that had begun to take hold of her snapped, replaced by a pure, visceral instinct for survival.

"NO!" she screamed, and her voice no longer trembled, it burned with a clear, final fury. She crossed her arms determinedly over her chest, facing Nico with a wild light in her eyes. "I refuse! Absolutely not! I QUIT!"

The scream was an act of liberation, a final wall she raised between herself and the abyss they were proposing. She preferred to face any uncertainty, any immediate shame, than to sign that monstrous pact. The word, "I QUIT," hung heavily in the air, vibrating with the sound of her dignity, fractured but still whole, shattering any illusion Nico or Janet had that she would accept her fate.