Ava after cleaning her stained clothes, looked up to see Lorenzo standing in front of them. Both of them were shocked as soon as they saw Lorenzo they had least expected to run into Lorenzo especially in a place like this. Evan had taken Ava to the restaurant for a quick breakfast before they headed out to go do some luxurious items. However, they ahd never expected that a man like Lorenzo would come to dine here. Ava's brows immediately furrowed in anger and irritation as she saw Lorenzo. “What are you doing here Lorenzo?” She spat in anger. Lorenzo's heart was instantly filled with pain as she saw Ava's irritated expression. She looked at him with spite as if they had never even dated. “Didn't you hear me, Enzo? What the hell are you doing here?” she asked in anger as she stared at Lorenzo. Her loud voice caught people's attention as they stared to look at what was going on. “What do you mean what am I doing here? Are you the owner of this building? Must I report t

“Please bring out your card, sir,” the waitress said as she stepped forward.Lorenzo’s hand slowly moved to his pocket confidently, about to bring out his black card when he realized that it wasn't in his breast pocket.That wasn't possible; he had brought it along with him.He dipped his hand again into his breast pocket and still couldn't find it, then proceeded to dig his hand inside all his numerous pockets, yet still couldn't find it.What the heck was going on? he wondered in disbelief.Ava and Evan, who were experiencing a feast as they watched Lorenzo, had smiles on the corners of their lips.“Mr., where is your card?” the waitress demanded, frowning.When Lorenzo walked in, he had this principled and disciplined look on his face, like someone who isn't capable of scamming anyone, but after Ava's public speech and Lorenzo’s inability to find his card, she couldn't help but think otherwise about Lorenzo.“I… I…” Lorenzo said as he brought down his bag, ready to search for it.J

The tall woman’s perfectly shaped brows furrowed as she sized Lorenzo up from head to toe. Her gaze lingered on his faded T-shirt and worn sneakers, and the corner of her lips curled in disdain. She let out a sharp laugh. “And who exactly are you supposed to be?” she sneered. “Another charity case?” Lorenzo’s expression remained calm, almost indifferent. But his eyes were steady—cold and unwavering. “I believe she already apologized,” he said evenly. “There’s no need to humiliate her.” The woman scoffed loudly, flipping her long, glossy hair over her shoulder. “Humiliate her? Do you even know how much these heels cost?” She lifted the pair dramatically. “These are custom-made. Imported. You wouldn’t even understand the brand if I told you.” A murmur rippled through the growing crowd. Some recognized her; she is a frequent customer of Louis Vuitton, and she was clearly wealthy—dressed in designer clothes from head to toe, dripping in jewelry that screamed status. Others whispered