Rebate System: From Poor Student To Billionaire Playboy

Chapter 18. The Candle Shop

Harry followed Clara inside, his gaze trailing lower than it should have. Even beneath her skirt, he could see the way her back curved in that perfect, natural arc that drew his eyes like a magnet. He caught himself staring and quickly looked away, shaking his head. What the hell was he doing?

It was hard to believe a woman like her, graceful, confident, built like sin itself, was married to someone like Brandon. The man was kind, sure, but he wasn’t exactly… remarkable. Harry almost felt bad for just thinking it, but compared to Clara’s energy and overall vibe, Brandon didn’t stand a chance.

As they stepped farther inside, Harry finally realized where she had dragged him. The shop was filled with rows of handcrafted candles in glass jars, each one labeled with poetic names like Whispered Desire and Velvet Nights. The air smelled thick with lavender and sandalwood, and everything gleamed under soft amber lights.

He frowned and thought to himself. “We came all the way out here… for candles?”

Apparently, yes. Custom-made candles. The kind that clearly couldn’t wait until tomorrow.

Or be delivered.

Harry sighed inwardly but kept quiet. He had agreed to tag along, so complaining now would make him look petty and immature.

While Clara chatted with the shopkeeper, a petite woman with bright red hair and way too much enthusiasm, Harry wandered. The place was small but stylish, with a strange undertone of sensuality. Curvy sketches hung on the walls, and one corner displayed massage oils, silk ribbons, and heart-shaped wax molds.

That’s when it hit him.

This wasn’t just a candle shop. It was that kind of shop.

Harry’s lips twitched. “Brandon, you horny dog,” he muttered under his breath.

“Hey, Harry! Come over here for a second,” Clara called out.

He turned and walked over, pretending he hadn’t just discovered the store’s secret theme. She stood beside a display of two candles, one red, one ivory, and looked genuinely torn between them.

“I need your opinion,” she said. “Which one do you think sets the mood better for a romantic night?”

Harry blinked. Of all the questions she could’ve asked, that one caught him off guard. He had zero experience with candles, unless lighting one during a power outage counted.

He scratched his head. “Honestly? I don’t think the candle makes the night romantic. It’s the person you spend it with.”

Clara tilted her head, surprised.

“I mean,” Harry went on, “you could pick either of these and the night could still turn into a disaster if the vibe’s off. It’s not about the setting, it’s about who you’re with.”

The shopkeeper started to speak—“Your friend here might be a lit—” but Clara silenced her with a finger, still watching Harry like she was seeing a completely different side of him.

“That’s actually… kind of deep,” she said quietly. “I didn’t expect that from you.”

Harry smirked. “Most people don’t.”

The red-haired lady looked mildly irritated, probably sensing her sale slipping away, so Harry quickly added, “Or you could just use both candles. Cover all bases, right?”

The woman perked up immediately. “That’s an excellent suggestion! You should definitely listen to your friend.”

Clara chuckled softly, but Harry could tell she was hesitating. She wasn’t sure if she should buy both, probably because of the price. He understood that kind of restraint. She and her husband had two kids to raise; little luxuries like this had to be planned carefully, months in advance.

“How much are they?” Harry asked, cutting through the tension.

“Three hundred and fifty dollars,” the shopkeeper said with a smile that looked just a little too eager.

Harry raised his eyebrows. For candles? He didn’t want to say it out loud, but that was insane. Still, before Clara could pull out her wallet, he spoke again.

“Do you take cards?”

The woman nodded.

Clara blinked. “Harry, you don’t have to—”

He waved her off. “Relax. You helped me out earlier. Let me return the favor.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he wasn’t listening anymore. He rubbed his chin, muttering, “$350, huh…” Then, out of nowhere, he looked up at the shopkeeper.

“How about I give you a down payment of $35,000? Let her pick whatever candles she wants.”

The silence that followed could’ve swallowed the entire shop.

“WHAT?!” both women shouted at once.

Harry shrugged like it was no big deal. “It’s fine.”

The shopkeeper practically jumped to the register, moving faster than Harry thought humanly possible. Thirty-five grand was more than she’d make in years. She wasn’t about to question divine luck.

Clara, on the other hand, was frozen in disbelief. She tried to stop him, but by the time she found her voice, he’d already handed over the card. The shopkeeper swiped it with trembling hands and beamed like she’d won the lottery.

Clara turned to him, wide-eyed. “Are you insane?!” she blurted before realizing how loud she’d been. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she gave a nervous laugh, cheeks flushing.

Harry just smiled. “Don’t worry about it.”

Then it happened again.

[Ding!]

[Spent $35,000. 10X Critical Hit. Earned $350,000! The money has been transferred to account XXX-XXX-XXX!]

[Spent at least $35,000 on a beautiful lady!]

Harry felt the familiar thrill pulse through him. Every time the system rewarded him, the numbers hit harder. But this time, it wasn’t just the money that made his pulse quicken, it was the stunned look on Clara’s face.

She didn’t speak as they left the store. The only sound was the faint clink of the shopping bag swinging in her hand.

She looked out the window during the drive back, lost in thought. Harry could tell she was processing, trying to make sense of what just happened.

Finally, halfway home, she broke the silence.

“I… don’t even know what to say,” she murmured. “I mean, thank you, Harry. For everything today. And I’m sorry for snapping earlier. I just can’t believe you spent that much on me.”

Her voice trailed off, soft but uncertain.

Harry glanced over at her briefly. Her tone had shifted, gentler, lower. Something unspoken hung between them, something that hadn’t been there before.

The look in her eyes had changed.