Chapter 9
Author: I.khalid
last update2026-02-22 14:38:21

Joshua raised an eyebrow, a cold smile playing at his lips. "So you're here to meet Lorenzo Gatti."

"Not that it's any of your business," Natalie said icily. "But yes. Some of us actually aspire to success."

"Then let me save you some time." Joshua's voice was sharp. "Mr. Gatti won't cooperate with people who have no moral standards."

Natalie's eyes flashed with fury. "Moral standards? You dare talk to me about morals? Your mother is lying in a hospital bed, critically ill, and you're here spending her medical expenses at the most expensive restaurant in the city! You're disgusting!"

The words carried through the dining hall. Nearby diners turned to stare, their expressions shifting from curiosity to disgust as they looked at Joshua.

"Did you hear that?" a woman at the next table whispered loudly to her companion. "He's using his dying mother's medical money to eat here?"

"That's shameful," her companion agreed, shaking his head. "What kind of son does that?"

"Absolutely despicable," another diner murmured.

Natalie's lips curved into a satisfied smile as the whispers spread. She raised her voice, ensuring everyone could hear. "Since you clearly don't care whether your mother lives or dies, I've made a decision. I'm cutting off all medical payments for her treatment. Completely. Permanently."

She paused for effect, her eyes cold and triumphant. "That way, you can't keep stealing life-saving money to feed your pathetic vanity."

"How terrible," someone whispered.

"The poor woman," another voice added. "Imagine having a son like that."

Joshua's laugh was harsh and bitter, cutting through the judgmental murmurs. "Medical payments? When have you ever actually paid them, Natalie?"

Natalie's expression flickered with confusion. "What are you talking about? I've paid your mother's bills every single month for three years—"

"No, you haven't." Joshua's voice was ice. "Every month, I had to beg your assistant for the money. Every single month, I submitted applications, hospital bills, doctor's notes. And every single time, what did I get? The same excuse: 'The company's finances are tight. Request denied.'"

Mark's face went pale. A thin sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead.

"That's ridiculous," Natalie said, but her tone had lost some of its certainty. "Mark would have told me if—"

"Would he?" Joshua's gaze fixed on Mark with laser precision. "Tell her, Mark. Tell her about all those applications I submitted. Tell her how you denied every single one."

"I—I did submit them," Mark stammered, his voice higher than normal. "Mrs. Cavesh approved the payments herself. If they didn't reach the hospital, that's not my fault—"

"You submitted them?" Joshua's laugh was dark. "Then where did the money go?"

The question hung in the air. Mark's face flushed red, then went white again. His hands clenched on the table.

Natalie's eyes narrowed as she looked between Joshua and Mark. "Mark?"

"He's lying!" Mark said quickly, desperately. "He's trying to create conflict between us! You know how manipulative he is!"

"Then show her the records," Joshua said quietly. "Show her the approved payments. The bank transfers. Prove me wrong."

Mark's mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. The silence was damning.

Just as Natalie's expression began to shift from certainty to doubt, Mark's eyes suddenly lit up. He pulled out his phone, his fingers flying across the screen.

"Wait! I remember now!" Mark's voice was triumphant. "I saw the news earlier today. There was a story about some mysterious tycoon who donated one hundred million dollars to Mercy General Hospital. He established a fund to help poor patients!"

He held up his phone, showing a news article. "That's why Joshua isn't afraid of you cutting off payments! He must have applied for assistance from this mysterious benefactor. That's how his mother's getting treatment now!"

Natalie's expression transformed from doubt back to cold contempt. She leaned back in her chair, her voice dripping with disdain. "So that's it. That's why you've been so fearless. You found another sugar daddy—some bleeding-heart philanthropist who doesn't know what kind of person you really are."

"Must be nice," Mark added, his confidence returning now that he'd deflected attention away from his embezzlement. "Living off other people's generosity. First Mrs. Cavesh, now some random billionaire. You're like a professional leech."

"I bet he manipulated that poor man," a nearby diner said loudly. "Probably told him some sob story."

"People like that have no shame," another agreed.

Natalie stood up from her chair, her voice carrying throughout the entire dining hall. "Let me make something very clear, Joshua. I will never extend a helping hand to someone as morally corrupt as you. Never."

She turned, addressing the room as if making a public declaration. "And I sincerely hope that whatever kind soul donated that money realizes what kind of person he's supporting. Joshua Hart is a liar, a manipulator, and a disgrace. He doesn't deserve anyone's charity."

Mark stood beside her, nodding vigorously. "Absolutely right, Mrs. Cavesh. The philanthropist should know the truth about who he's funding."

"The man has no principles," Natalie continued, her voice like ice. "No work ethic. No ambition. He's content to live off others while contributing nothing to society. And now he's found a new victim to exploit."

"Someone should tell that billionaire," a woman at a nearby table said. "He deserves to know his money is going to someone like this."

"What a waste of a hundred million dollars," her companion agreed. "Helping scum like him."

Joshua stood perfectly still, his face expressionless as the insults washed over him. Every word Natalie spoke, every judgment from the strangers around him—it all bounced off the armor he'd built over three years of humiliation.

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