THE ORPHAN WHO INHERITED BILLIONS

Chapter 4

 

Alexander stared at his phone screen, reading the group chat message for the third time. The invitation to dinner at The Golden Terrace glowed mockingly at him – an expensive restaurant he'd only heard about in whispered conversations among wealthy students.

Joseph Blake looked over from his desk. "You should go, man. It's been weeks since you've done anything social."

"I can't afford The Golden Terrace," Alexander said quietly. "Do you know how much their cheapest meal costs?"

"Come on," his other roommate, David Park, chimed in. "It's a group dinner. Maybe everyone's splitting the bill or something. You've been working your ass off – you deserve one nice evening."

Alexander hesitated, his finger hovering over the reply button. After yesterday's humiliation with the math problem redemption, maybe things were changing. Maybe his classmates were finally seeing him as more than just the poor kid.

"Fine," he said, typing a quick acceptance message. "But if I can't afford it, I'm ordering water and breadsticks."

The Golden Terrace lived up to its reputation. Crystal chandeliers cast warm light over tables draped in white linen, and the air hummed with quiet conversations and the soft clinking of expensive silverware. Alexander felt completely out of place in his cleanest jeans and a button-down shirt he'd borrowed from Joseph.

"Alexander!" A warm voice called out as he approached the large reserved table. Sophia Martinez waved him over, her smile genuine and welcoming. Even in this upscale setting, she stood out – long dark hair cascading over her shoulders, wearing an elegant black dress that somehow managed to be both sophisticated and approachable.

"I'm so glad you came," Sophia said as Alexander took the empty seat beside her. "How are you feeling after yesterday's class? That math problem was incredible."

Alexander felt heat rise in his cheeks. "It was nothing special."

"Nothing special?" Sophia laughed. "You solved graduate-level calculus in two minutes. Professor Foster is still talking about it."

Before Alexander could respond, Frank Collins's voice cut across the table. "Well, well, look who decided to grace us with his presence."

Frank, a business major whose father owned several car dealerships, smirked as he gestured toward Alexander. "Alexander, buddy, since you're here, mind grabbing my jacket from the coat check? And maybe see if they have any mints – this place has standards to maintain."

Several students snickered. Alexander felt his jaw clench. "Get it yourself, Frank."

"Whoa, touchy," Frank said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I was just asking for a favor. You know, like the favors you do for customers all day at your little jobs."

"Frank, stop being an ass," Sophia said firmly, but Frank waved her off.

"I'm just saying, he's used to serving people. It's what he does."

The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Vincent DiMarco, a senior from the computer science department who strutted in like he owned the place. His designer suit probably cost more than Alexander made in six months, and his perfectly styled hair gleamed under the chandelier light.

"Sorry I'm late, everyone," Vincent announced, taking the head of the table. "Traffic was murder coming from the country club."

As Vincent settled into his chair, his nose wrinkled visibly. He looked around the table suspiciously before his gaze landed on Alexander.

"Jesus Christ, what is that smell?" Vincent's voice was loud enough to draw attention from nearby tables. "It smells like grease and... is that fish?"

Alexander's stomach dropped. He'd come straight from his shift at the seafood restaurant, and despite changing shirts, the smell had obviously clung to him.

"I think it's coming from over there," Frank said, pointing directly at Alexander. "Dude, did you shower before coming here?"

"I worked a shift before this," Alexander said quietly, his face burning with embarrassment.

Vincent's expression shifted to pure disgust. "Are you serious right now? You came to The Golden Terrace smelling like a goddamn fish market?"

The entire table had gone silent. Other diners were beginning to stare. Alexander felt like he was shrinking into his chair.

"This is unbelievable," Vincent continued, his voice getting louder. "I spend two hundred dollars reserving this table at one of the nicest restaurants in the city, and you show up reeking like you've been gutting salmon all day?"

"Vincent, calm down," Sophia said, but her voice was drowned out by Vincent's tirade.

"No, I will not calm down!" Vincent stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "This is exactly why there should be dress codes and standards. What kind of low-class person thinks it's acceptable to come to a place like this smelling like garbage?"

Frank nodded vigorously. "Seriously, Alexander, that's just basic respect. You couldn't have gone home and showered first?"

"Yeah," Jessica Chen added from across the table. "This is really inconsiderate. The smell is actually making me nauseous."

Alexander felt every eye in the restaurant boring into him. The whispers from other tables were getting louder, and he caught fragments of their conversations.

"Disgusting... who let him in here... probably doesn't even belong..."

"Look, I'll leave," Alexander said, starting to stand.

"Yeah, you should," Vincent said coldly. "And next time, maybe think twice before accepting invitations to places that are clearly out of your league."

"Vincent!" Sophia snapped, but Frank was already piling on.

"This is so embarrassing," Frank said, shaking his head. "Alexander, man, I like you, but this is just... wow. You really thought it was okay to come here like this? In that cheap shirt, smelling like fish, probably can't even afford to split the bill?"

The humiliation was unbearable. Alexander felt his chest tightening, his breathing becoming shallow. Every face at the table looked disgusted, embarrassed, or worst of all – pitying.

"You know what?" Alexander said, his voice shaking with anger and shame. "You're all right. I don't belong here."

He pushed back from the table so hard his chair nearly toppled over. The sound echoed through the restaurant, and conversations at nearby tables stopped entirely.

"Alexander, wait—" Sophia called out, but Alexander was already walking quickly toward the exit, his face burning with humiliation.

Vincent's voice followed him across the restaurant. "Next time maybe stick to McDonald's, buddy!"

The laughter from his table felt like daggers in Alexander's back as he pushed through the restaurant's heavy doors and out into the cool evening air.

Alexander leaned against the brick wall outside, his hands shaking as he tried to catch his breath. The familiar weight of poverty and shame pressed down on him like a physical force. No matter how well he performed academically, no matter how hard he worked, he would always be seen as less than.

"Alexander?"

He looked up to see Sophia approaching, her heels clicking softly on the sidewalk. She'd grabbed her purse and followed him outside.

"I'm so sorry about what happened in there," she said, her eyes filled with genuine concern. "Vincent and Frank were way out of line."

"They were right though," Alexander said bitterly. "I don't belong in places like that. I was stupid to think I could fit in."

"That's bullshit and you know it." Sophia stepped closer, her voice fierce. "Your worth isn't determined by how much money you have or what you smell like after working an honest job."

Alexander laughed harshly. "Easy for you to say. You've never been publicly humiliated for being poor."

"You're right, I haven't," Sophia admitted. "But I have eyes, Alexander. I see how hard you work, how brilliant you are, how much you care about your education and your family. Those qualities matter so much more than Vincent's daddy's credit card."

She reached out and gently touched his arm. "Don't let their words define your worth. You're going to be something amazing someday, I can feel it. People like Vincent peak in college – people like you? You're just getting started."

For the first time in hours, Alexander felt like he could breathe properly. Sophia's kindness was like a lifeline in the storm of his humiliation.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "That... that means more than you know."

Sophia smiled, the warmth in her eyes genuine and unwavering. "Everyone deserves to have someone believe in them, Alexander. I believe in you."