Revenge Of The Billionaire Heir

Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Declan stepped out of the taxi first, the twins following behind, still staring at the gold framed entrance like it was a portal into another world.

“It’s okay,” Declan said quietly. “We can eat here.”

Asher blinked. “Ehh?”

Ashton whispered, “Bro… do you know how expensive this place is?”

Declan swallowed, of cause he knew how expensive it was, this was a place only the elites came to eat at, he always passed by on his way to school, but never had he thought he’d be able to afford a meal here.

Now that he had the money, he just wanted to eat good food and celebrate with his friends.

“I’ve never really eaten anything nice before. I want to try it… with my friends.” He whispered back, silently pleading for them not to give him a hard time too.

The twins exchanged a look and nodded slowly, deciding not to pry again. They weren’t about to crush him not after the week he’d had.

A valet in a black tuxedo walked toward them. His eyes scanned their cheap clothes, dusty shoes, and simple backpacks.

His nose wrinkled like he smelled something rotten.

“Good afternoon,” he said stiffly. “Do you have a reservation?”

“No. But it looks like there’s space inside. We just want to eat.” Declan shook his head, slowly peeping through the glass door.

The valet blinked, then let out a low, mocking laugh.

“You want to eat here?” he repeated loudly, drawing attention.

“Sir… if you want leftovers, you should come in the evening. We give scraps to the less fortunate before closing. It will save you embarrassment.”

Ashton’s face fell.

Asher clenched his fists.

Declan felt heat climb his neck.

“I didn’t ask for leftovers,” Declan said quietly. “I asked if there was space inside.”

The valet raised a brow, amused.

“Yes. There is space. But…”

He leaned closer, voice dripping with insult.

“A simple caviar meal here 35,000 thousand dollars. Can you spend that?”

The twins’ mouths dropped open.

“We… we can go,” Ashton whispered, tugging Declan’s sleeve.

“Yeah you should really listen to your friends and go to get cheap roadside food befitting if you. You can not afford a decent outfit” the valet said with disgust after sizing them up and down.

But Declan didn’t move.

“You shouldn’t judge people by how they look. Whether someone is poor or rich, it costs nothing to treat them with respect.” His voice was steady.

The valet sighed like he was tired of this conversation.

“Sir, please leave before you embarrass yourself. Or security will escort you.”

Declan stood still hurt, but silent.

Just then…

Engines roared from behind.

A line of luxury sports cars rolled into the driveway. Bright red, metallic blue, and sleek blackFerraris, Lamborghinis, McLarens looking like beasts on wheels.

The valet’s face lit up.

Stefan and his friends climbed out, laughing, wearing designer clothes like they owned the world.

“Welcome back, Mr. Sinclair,” the valet said, bowing deeply.

“They’re expecting you. Please, go right in.” He said, sounding too cautious and polite unlike the way he spoke to Declan.

Xavier tossed his keys to another valet without even looking.

Marcus removed his sunglasses, smiling at the entrance like paparazzi were waiting.

But Stefan’s eyes found Declan standing there in his cheap shirt and worn shoes.

A cruel smile stretched across his lips.

“Well, well… look who came to beg for leftovers,” Stefan said.

“You again, dog?” He intentionally raised his voice so that others could hear him.

Asher whispered, “Ignore him.”

But Stefan wasn’t done.

He faced the valet.

“Make sure security searches this one. He might steal plates or roll the silverware into his pockets.” He smudged his friends and they laughed.

“This stray dog belongs in jail,” Stefan continued loudly.

“I’m shocked he’s outside. I wonder how he even managed to pay the 10,000 dollar bail. Maybe he stole it?” He added, deliberately painting him as a thief in front of everybody.

“Yes, sir.” The valet nodded quickly, eager to please the president’s son.

Stefan stepped closer, eyes narrowed, as if thinking about something deep, “You know what… actually security!”

Two guards appeared from the side entrance, tall and expressionless.

Stefan pointed at Declan.

“Search this thief. I remember my two thousand dollars went missing during today’s exams. So check him properly.” He said blankly.

Asher cursed under his breath, Stefan was going too far.

Ashton stepped forward angrily, ready to defend his friend.

Declan just stood there… silent.

But his hands curled into fists at his side.

The two security guards walked straight toward them, heavy boots echoing against the marble floor.

They didn’t even ask questions. They just reached for Declan, Asher, and Ashton like they were criminals.

“Hands where we can see them,” one guard ordered.

Asher jerked his arm away.

“Hey! We didn’t do anything!” He stormed.

“Back off. What the hell?!” Ashton stepped in front of Declan in protection.

But the guards didn’t care. They grabbed at their pockets and backpacks, patting them down roughly.

People nearby stopped eating and stared.

Some whispered.

Others took out their phones.

Declan just stood still, refusing to give Stefan the satisfaction of seeing him panic.

The guard reached into Declan’s back pocket and froze.

He slowly pulled out a small, sleek black card. matte, heavy, elegant.

Nothing like a normal bank card.

It gleamed under the chandelier light.

Everyone recognized that design.

It was a no limit executive card only granted to international elites, royalty, billionaires, and heads of state.

The valet’s face went pale.

The guard’s hands trembled slightly.

He stared between the card and Declan.

“This… sir…”

His voice became respectful.

“This card is… authentic.”

The valet swallowed loudly.

“Authentic? how can you be sure?”

“It has unique raised mark coding,” the guard replied firmly. “Only original cards have this security texture. It’s… real.”

A wave of whispers rippled across the lobby.

Stefan stiffened, his smirk slipping.

Then he scoffed loudly.

“Fake,” he barked. “It’s fake. He probably printed it online or stole it.”

The valet looked torn.

One guard shook his head.

“No… it’s real. I trained at the National Bank briefings. I know this card. It’s…”

“It’s mine!” Stefan suddenly shouted, pointing like a maniac.

“That’s MY card! He stole it!”

The twins gasped.

“You’re lying,” Asher snapped.

“You think everything belongs to you?” Ashton added.

Stefan ignored them, yelling louder.

“He stole MY card and came here to spend MY money! Search him properly check his shoes, his underwear, I don’t care! He’s a THIEF!”

Declan’s fists clenched so hard his knuckles turned white.

Humiliation burned his skin.

The valet didn’t know what to do.

He glanced at Stefan’s designer clothes…

then at Declan’s plain shirt and dusty shoes…

then back at the card in the guard’s hand.

His voice trembled.

“Sir… Mr. Sinclair… if the card is yours, then… do you know the cardholder’s full name?”

Stefan froze.

The guard looked at him, silent, waiting.

Stefan’s jaw twitched.

“I OF COURSE I KNOW IT!” he barked.

Then he hesitated, scrambling.

“It’s…”

He lifted his chin arrogantly, trying to bluff.

“It’s Stefan Sinclair,” he announced confidently.

The guard blinked once…

then shook his head.

“No,” he said flatly.

“That is not the name.”

Gasps shook the lobby.

Asher grinned.

“Uh oh…”

Ashton snorted.

“Liar spotted.”

Stefan’s face went red in seconds.

“Y-you’re mistaken!” Stefan shouted.

“He’s lying! He doesn’t know how to check it.YOU’RE ALL USELESS! That card is mine!”

People whispered around them:

“Why would HIS name not be on it then?”

“Maybe he just hates the poor guy…”

“He’s lying…”

Stefan turned wild.

“He must have forged the name too! Arrest him! Call the police! He shouldn’t be here, he's a stray dog, a useless beggar, a…”

The valet flinched, stepping away from Stefan’s spit and rage.

He looked at Declan now with shaken respect…

but also fear.

Because nothing made sense anymore.

And Stefan

looked like an insane one.