2026-08-11 18:11:56Natalie's eyes moved from the Patek Philippe on Ethan's wrist to the four bottles of Romanee Conti lined up on the table like soldiers. Her mind was spinning faster than the wine could slow it down, and every calculation led to the same conclusion.
"Ethan, can I ask you something personal?" Natalie shifted in the booth, crossing her legs the other direction and angling her body toward him.
"You've been asking personal things all night, Natalie. Why stop now." Ethan poured himself another glass, his movements unhurried and steady.
"How long have you been this wealthy?" Natalie's voice dropped to something soft and intimate, her chin resting on her hand like she was settling in for the most important conversation of her life.
"Define wealthy." Ethan took a sip without looking at her.
"Ethan, you just ordered four bottles of wine that cost more than most people's houses. You're wearing a suit that probably costs more than my car. And that watch on your wrist, I dated a guy who collected watches and I know a Grandmaster Chime when I see one. That's a $700,000 piece." Natalie counted each item on her fingers, her eyes getting wider with every point.
"You have good eyes." Ethan set his glass down and finally met her gaze.
"So why does Claire think you're broke? Why does she tell everyone you're some penny pinching workaholic who won't even buy her a decent handbag?" Natalie leaned forward, her voice sharp with genuine confusion now, the performance temporarily abandoned.
Ethan let the question hang in the air for a moment. He knew exactly why Claire told people those things. Because it served her. A rich husband attracted attention, competition, questions. A poor husband attracted pity, sympathy, and most importantly, freedom. Claire could do whatever she wanted as long as the world believed Ethan was nothing special.
"Maybe she has her reasons." Ethan swirled his glass slowly.
"Her reasons? Ethan, she's been lying to everyone. To me, to our whole friend group, to her own family. She made us all believe you were this sad little man she settled for. And the whole time you were sitting on a fortune?" Natalie's cheeks flushed pink, and it wasn't just the wine.
"Does that bother you?" Ethan watched her face with clinical precision.
"It makes me feel stupid. I spent years feeling sorry for Claire. Telling her she deserved better. Telling her she was a saint for sticking with you. And now I find out she was hiding the truth the whole time to keep every woman within a ten mile radius from looking twice at you." Natalie's voice cracked with something between anger and admiration.
There it is, Ethan thought. She finally sees the game. Claire wasn't insulting me out of disappointment. She was building a fence around a garden she didn't want anyone else to notice.
The night continued. The jazz music shifted to something slower, deeper. The bar thinned out as the late crowd replaced the early one. Natalie drank glass after glass, her words getting looser and her laughter getting louder. She told him stories about Claire's brunches, about the things the women said behind each other's backs, about the time Claire bragged about convincing Ethan to cancel his gym membership so she could use the money for a facial treatment.
Ethan listened to everything. Filed it. Stored it. His upgraded body burned through the alcohol like it was water, keeping his mind sharp while his glass emptied at the same pace as Natalie's.
By midnight, her mascara had smudged just below her left eye and her words were starting to blend together at the edges.
"You know what your problem is, Ethan? You're too nice. Men like you finish last because you let women like Claire walk all over you. But look at you now. New body, new suit, new everything. You're like a whole different species." Natalie poked his chest with one finger and left it there a second too long.
"I think you've had enough wine, Natalie. Let me get you a car home." Ethan pulled out his phone.
"Home is boring. And far." Natalie turned her head and looked out the window toward the hotel across the street, its lobby glowing warm and golden through the glass doors. She looked back at him and raised one eyebrow.
Ethan followed her gaze. The hotel sign read THE ADDINGTON in polished brass letters.
He should have said no. He knew that. The smart play was to put her in a cab and drive home. But something cold and strategic had taken root inside him over the past twenty four hours, and it saw Natalie Walsh not as a temptation but as a tool.
Claire's best friend. The woman who knows all her secrets. The one she trusts most.
The one whose betrayal would hurt the deepest.
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Chapter 75 Part 3
Meanwhile, Margaret had not changed. The promise she made to Claire had a shelf life shorter than the recycled beer she had tried to serve.Over the next few days, she cleaned. She mopped. She wiped tables and emptied trash cans. But her eyes never stopped scanning.She pocketed half smoked cigarettes left behind in ashtrays and tucked them into a plastic bag she kept hidden in her apron for Derek. She collected leftover alcohol from private rooms, pouring dregs of whiskey, vodka, and rum into a plastic water bottle she kept stashed behind the cleaning supplies in the utility closet. When the bottle was full, she planned to transfer it to the kitchen freezer, where nobody ever checked the back shelf.She was careful now. Quiet. Methodical. The supermarket incident had taught her one lesson, but not the one Claire had hoped for. Margaret hadn't learned to stop stealing. She had learned to stop getting caught.One afternoon, she finished sweeping a recently vacated private room and was
Chapter 75 Part 2
Margaret's knees buckled. She dropped to the floor like someone had pulled a trapdoor under her feet. Her palms slapped against her thighs with a sound that echoed off the walls."My own daughter!" she wailed, her voice shooting to a pitch that could shatter crystal. "My own flesh and blood is throwing me away like garbage! After everything I sacrificed for you! After all the years I spent raising you with my bare hands!"She slapped her thighs again, harder."I carried you for nine months!" she sobbed. "Nine months! And this is how you repay me? By kicking me into the street like a stray dog?"Tears poured down her cheeks. Her body rocked back and forth on the floor. Her sequined sneakers scraped against the tile with every dramatic sway.Claire stood over her, watching, her face a battlefield between fury and exhaustion.She knew this routine. She had been defeated by this routine her entire life. The tears, the guilt, the invisible chains that wrapped around her chest every time Ma
Chapter 75 Part 1
Claire burst through the private room door and found Margaret standing by the table with her arms crossed and the man in gold rimmed glasses holding his phone screen toward the doorway like a weapon."Is this your establishment?" the man asked, his voice tight with barely controlled disgust.Claire didn't answer him. She looked at the phone screen. The video was paused on a frame of Margaret pouring beer from one bottle into another, her face clearly visible, the row of empty bottles lined up on the table behind her like evidence at a trial.The blood left Claire's face so fast she had to grab the door frame."Sir," she said, and her voice came out thin and cracked. She swallowed and tried again. "Sir, I am so sorry. I am deeply, deeply sorry for what you witnessed.""Sorry doesn't undo what I saw," the man said, adjusting his glasses. "That woman just told me to my face that she recycles leftover drinks and serves them to new customers. In a licensed bar. With a straight face.""I un
Chapter 74 Part 3
She picked up the recycled bottle and slammed it down on the table hard enough to make the empty bottles rattle."You think you can walk in here and tell me how to run my own family's business?" she continued, stepping toward him. "I've been running households and kitchens since before you could tie your own shoes. Don't you dare stand in my bar and lecture me about hygiene.""This is not your bar," the man said, his phone still recording, his voice calm but his jaw tight. "This is a licensed establishment that serves the public. And what I just watched you do is grounds for immediate shutdown by the health department.""Go ahead and call them!" Margaret shouted, her face flushing crimson. "Call whoever you want! I'll tell them exactly what I told you. I was saving money. I was being smart. Something you clearly know nothing about.""You were pouring strangers' saliva into a bottle and planning to serve it to paying customers," the man said, each word landing like a gavel. "That's not
Chapter 74 Part 2
Bottle by bottle, she tilted the leftover beer into the empty one. The liquids mixed together, pale gold blending with amber, flat dregs combining with still carbonated remnants. A small foam head formed at the top as the recycled beer settled.She held the bottle up and squinted. It looked almost full. Almost perfect."Good as new," she said softly, reaching for the cap that had been tossed onto the table.She was pressing the cap back onto the bottle with her thumb when the door opened behind her.A man stepped in. Mid fifties, silver hair combed neatly to one side, thin gold rimmed glasses sitting on a narrow nose. He wore a charcoal suit and carried himself with the quiet authority of someone who signed checks that other people cashed.He stopped two steps inside the door, his eyes moving from Margaret to the bottle in her hand to the row of empty bottles on the table."Excuse me," he said, his voice polite but sharp. "What exactly are you doing?"Margaret didn't flinch. She didn't
Chapter 74 Part 1
Kevin stood frozen, holding the plate of floor fruit like it was a ticking bomb."Mrs. Chen, I really don't think we should...""You think too much," Margaret said, cutting him off with a wave of her hand. "That's your problem. Too much thinking, not enough doing."She reached over, plucked a chunk of watermelon from the plate, and popped it into her mouth.She chewed slowly, deliberately, like a food critic sampling a five star dessert. Her jaw worked left and right. She swallowed, licked her lips, and nodded."Delicious," she said, tapping the edge of the plate. "See? Perfectly fine. Better than fine. The floor water added a little mineral flavor. It's practically spa fruit now."Kevin's stomach turned."Take it," Margaret said, pushing the plate firmly into his hands. "Booth A08 has been waiting for fifteen minutes. If they complain, it's your tip that disappears, not mine."Kevin looked down at the plate. The grape with the hair on it was still there, nestled between two slices of
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