My sister’s restaurant. I was just about to leave when the manager called out, “Sir, you haven’t paid your bill yet.” I looked at the unfamiliar face, thinking he must be new and didn’t recognize me. So, I politely explained, “Just put it on your boss’s tab. She knows about it.” The male manager gave me a dismissive glance. “Sir, this is a three-Michelin-star restaurant. We never allow tabs.” He finished speaking, then handed me a printed bill. I glanced down at it. A single meal, half a million dollars. Glow-up cutlery maintenance fee: $30,000. Exclusive air purification fee: $50,000. VIP emotional appeasement service fee: $100,000. And a bunch of other ridiculous charges. I had no idea my sister ran such a rip-off joint. I let out a sarcastic laugh. “I’m Adrian Hayes, Ms. Hayes’s brother. If there’s an issue, she can come home and talk to me.” But he wouldn’t back down. “If you can’t afford it, just say so. Don’t try to piggyback on Ms. Hayes’s name. I’ve seen plenty of pretty boys trying to sponge off women.” I texted my assistant: *Tell my sister: either fire this guy, or I’m pulling all my investments.*
“Sir, stop wasting everyone’s time. Just pay.” His tone was smug and cutting, as if he’d already labeled me a scoundrel trying to climb the ladder on a woman’s coattails. Several curious glances were already turning my way. I frowned, not wanting to waste time on such a ridiculous matter. I pulled out my phone and dialed my sister’s number directly. But all I got was a cold busy signal. I tried again, same result. It’s a weekday, what’s that girl up to? I put down my phone and looked straight at the aggressive man, repeating each word clearly: “I’ll say it again. My name is Adrian Hayes, and I am the biological brother of your boss, Serena Hayes.” “Her phone isn’t answering right now. You can check her card; my photo and information are linked to it.” I thought this was the most direct and effective way to solve the problem. But when the male manager heard my name, instead of verifying it, he burst into a loud, exaggerated, and grating laugh. He laughed so hard he almost doubled over, drawing even more attention. Then, he suddenly leaned in close, lowering his voice to a whisper only we could hear: “Still pretending? I’ve seen your face in Serena’s photo album a thousand times!” “You’re that persistent creep who always tries to interfere with our lives!” “And now you have the nerve to show up at her restaurant and put your tab on her? Who do you think you are?” I froze for a second, then glanced at his name tag – Brendon Miller. An overwhelming sense of exasperation washed over me. Serena’s boyfriend, the one she’d been so secretive about, the one she wouldn’t even let me see a single photo of… it turned out to be this foolish, venomous man right in front of me. How could her taste be this bad? It dawned on me then: today’s half-million-dollar “exorbitant bill” wasn’t a misunderstanding at all. It was a premeditated humiliation. Before I could even speak, he’d completely lost his patience. “If this gentleman insists on dining and dashing, we’ll have to restrain him until the police arrive!” He waved his hand, and two burly security guards, who had been standing nearby, immediately stepped forward. They were two well-trained strongmen. Two fists against four hands, my resistance was quickly subdued, and my arms were twisted tightly behind my back. I struggled violently but couldn’t break free from their professional hold. They ignored my furious gaze and the frightened looks of the other guests, roughly dragging me towards the back kitchen. Then, I was violently shoved into the storeroom in the back, reeking of disinfectant and stale, greasy slop. The door slammed shut, cutting off all light and sound from outside.
In the dark, the male manager said nothing. He simply raised his leather-clad foot and kicked me hard in the stomach. The excruciating pain made me grunt instantly, my stomach churning. “That’s for spending my woman’s money!” “That’s for meddling in her business!” He yelled, his voice twisted by jealousy and rage. He looked down at me, then ordered the two burly men: “Beat him! Teach him a lesson!” The two security guards were clearly his cronies; they didn’t hesitate, a relentless flurry of punches and kicks raining down on me. I gritted my teeth, swallowing every cry of pain. My bones felt like they were being crushed inch by inch, my internal organs dislodged. His taunts continued: “Who do you think you are, huh? Just a good-for-nothing leeching off his sister!” “I told you I’m her brother! If you don’t believe me, ask Serena! Call her now, I’ll talk to her!” I struggled to explain, but the man in front of me just ignored it. It wasn’t until I started feeling dizzy that he raised a hand, signaling them to stop. He nudged my shoulder with the tip of his leather shoe, looking at me triumphantly: “You’d better settle the bill today and cough up another half-million.” “That’s the consequence of you interfering in my relationship with Serena and spending her money.” “I’m not afraid of trouble. Serena will handle any fallout for me.” I was curled in a ball of pain, weakly trying to argue, “That’s *my* own money! I told you, if you don’t believe me, go ask her.” His face changed. He kicked me, and the two security guards immediately understood, their punches and kicks raining down on me again. I knew he wouldn’t listen to anything I said. If this continued, I could be seriously hurt. After I coughed up a mouthful of blood, I used my last ounce of strength to grope for my phone on the floor. “Stop… I’ll… I’ll pay.” He seemed satisfied with my submission, signaling the two security guards to stop. He squatted down and patted my swollen cheek. “See? Wouldn’t it have been easier to just do that from the start? You chose the hard way.” “Two million. Not a cent less.” I lay sprawled on the cold floor, gasping for breath, my lungs burning. I ignored him and dialed my friend Leo Rodriguez’s number. The phone was answered quickly. “Leo, bring two million to my sister’s restaurant. I need it now.” Leo on the other end paused, then sensed something was wrong. “Adrian? What’s wrong, man? Your voice sounds…” “Don’t ask. Just hurry.” I cut him off and hung up. Brendon’s eyes instantly lit up at the mention of “two million.” A greedy glint flashed in them. He probably thought I was beaten into submission, offering more money to beg for mercy. The triumph on his face was now impossible to hide. “Smart move.”
Leo’s speed was astonishing. Soon, the storeroom door was violently shoved open from the outside. Leo, accompanied by two bodyguards, strode in quickly. He was shocked to see the blood on my mouth, my disheveled clothes, and my pathetic posture, propped up on the floor. He rushed over to help me up. I shook my head, subtly signaling him to stay silent, then took the bank card he handed me (with the PIN attached) and tossed it to the man. The man took the card and didn’t bother me further, waving his hand. “If that’s a fake card, I have countless ways to find you. Get lost.” Enduring the excruciating pain throughout my body, I limped out of that sickening place, leaning on Leo’s arm. When we reached the entrance, I thanked Leo: “Thanks, buddy. I’ll get this sorted and pay you back quickly.” He looked at me worriedly. “Don’t worry about the money, it’s nothing. But what happened to you?” I sneered. “My sister found herself a fine boyfriend. I guess I have a score to settle with her.” I pulled out my phone and found the number for the restaurant’s Assistant General Manager, Mr. Peterson. Mr. Peterson was the restaurant’s actual manager, someone I had personally recruited, and he was quite loyal to me. The call connected. I wasted no words, my voice devoid of emotion. “You have ten minutes to fire a manager named Brendon Miller.” “Otherwise, Hayes Enterprises will withdraw all investment from the restaurant, every last cent.” Mr. Peterson on the other end was scared shitless the moment he heard my voice. He must have heard the weakness and the unusual edge in my voice, as he agreed in quick, terrified succession, not even daring to ask why. I hung up the phone and, without a moment’s pause, told Leo to take me straight to the police station. With the clearest, calmest logic, I recounted everything that had just happened to the officer who assisted me. After giving a detailed statement at the police station, I went to the hospital for an injury assessment. I held that thin report in my hand, and the fury of betrayal, as if fueled by hot oil, burned hotter and fiercer within me. I needed an explanation. I needed Serena Hayes, to give me an explanation herself. My assistant found out Serena was at her villa. My driver and bodyguards arrived, and we headed straight for Serena’s place. That villa was also a gift from me. However, when I arrived, I was greeted by blaring heavy metal music. And the raucous sounds of men and women echoing through the doors and windows. She was throwing a party. No wonder she hadn’t answered my calls. The villa’s main door was ajar, and on a strange impulse, I didn’t push it open immediately. Soon, I heard a familiar male voice. It was Brendon Miller. He was pouring out his story to everyone, painting himself as a poor, helpless victim, bullied by an arrogant third party – me – who then had the audacity to turn the tables and accuse him. “…I just asked him to pay the bill, and he threw two million dollars in my face, then found people to get me fired…” “Serena, he’s gone too far. He doesn’t respect you at all!” “He just wants to humiliate me, he just wants us to break up!” Inside, Serena’s circle of ‘friends’ — mostly hangers-on and troublemakers — echoed his outrage. Serena, in turn, was loudly comforting Brendon in her arms, her voice full of tenderness and indulgence. “Brendon, don’t worry, I won’t let you suffer this injustice!” Then, as if to prove her resolve, she promised everyone confidently: “When I get my hands on my brother, I’ll make him beg for your forgiveness on his knees!” Inside, those spoiled brats were still backing Brendon, shouting about how they would make me pay. “Serena, just say the word, and we’ll go drag that bastard out right now!” “Yeah! Let him know who truly owns this place!” I couldn’t listen anymore. I raised a hand, and my bodyguard kicked open the villa’s front door. The booming music screeched to a halt, the noisy laughter instantly vanishing. Dozens of stunned eyes, all at once, turned towards the doorway. “No need to drag me out. I’m right here. Who wants to teach me a lesson?”
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