The Overnight Student Trillionaire

Chapter 10

“Please bring out your card, sir,” the waitress said, stepping forward with a growing frown.

Lorenzo’s hand moved to his breast pocket, expecting his fingers to brush against the weightless, smooth edge of the black silk card. Nothing.

A sudden spike of panic flared in his chest. That wasn't possible. He had checked before leaving the estate; he knew he had brought it.

He dipped his fingers again, pressing deeper into the lining. Still nothing. He frantically searched his trousers, his jacket, digging into every single pocket.

Empty.

Ava and Evan watched his struggle with triumphant, malicious grins spreading across their faces.

“Mr., where is your card?” the waitress demanded, her voice hardening.

When Lorenzo had first walked in, she had treated him with a quiet, disciplined respect. But after Ava’s noisy speech and his sudden inability to find his payment, the doubt in her eyes was unmistakable.

“I… I…” Lorenzo muttered, swinging his backpack off his shoulder and setting it on the counter to zip it open.

“Please, Lorenzo, stop with the public display,” Ava mocked, her voice echoing loudly across the dining hall. “You and I both know you don't have a card that can pay for a glass of water here, let alone an executive meal.”

Lorenzo's fingers searched the bottom corners of his bag, brushing past notebook edges until they finally collided with the cold, heavy surface of the card. He exhaled a slow, quiet breath. He had thrown it into the front pouch of his bag after leaving the estate, completely forgetting he hadn’t put it back in his shirt pocket.

He pulled it out, keeping it loosely enclosed in his palm.

“What the heck is going on right now?” an authoritative voice demanded.

A middle-aged, balding man in a sharp suit walked into the center of the room. Judging by the rigid posture of the staff and his commanding tone, he was clearly the manager.

Ava, practically vibrating with excitement, stepped up immediately. “Everything is going wrong, Mr. Stone! This man is about to scam your restaurant. He ordered your most expensive meal with absolutely no intention to pay!”

Mr. Stone turned his gaze onto Lorenzo, observing his worn sneakers, his plain clothes, and his faded backpack. “Is that true, sir?” he asked politely. Despite Lorenzo's appearance, years of management had clearly taught him not to jump to conclusions too quickly.

“It is more than true, Mr. Stone!” Ava interjected, her tone dripping with venom. “Look at him! How can a man dressed so shabbily afford the most expensive item on your menu?”

Mr. Stone looked at Lorenzo again. “Sir, is it true you ordered without any intention of payment?”

“I have no such intention, sir,” Lorenzo answered simply, keeping his voice steady.

“If that is the case, then will you please extend your card so we may process the payment?”

Lorenzo stepped forward, opening his palm and extending the sleek black card toward him. “Here you go.”

Mr. Stone took it with a slight nod, but the moment his eyes landed on the card, his hand froze mid-air. His pupils dilated in sheer disbelief.

“No way...” he whispered, his voice trembling.

He recognized the crest immediately—the intricate, silver Byers Group logo emblazoned across the corner. This entire commercial strip, including this very establishment, was owned and funded under the Byers umbrella.

He looked up at Lorenzo, his eyes darting frantically between Lorenzo's plain t-shirt and the most powerful VIP card in existence. “Where… where did you get this card from?” he asked in a hushed, bewildered tone.

“Why? Is there a problem?” Lorenzo asked, furrowing his brows.

The crowd murmured, completely baffled by Mr. Stone’s sudden change in demeanor. Ava and Evan exchanged confused looks, expecting Mr. Stone to call security and throw Lorenzo onto the street, not whisper in awe.

Mr. Stone’s eyes lowered to the silver lettering at the bottom of the card: Lorenzo Byers.

“What is your name, sir?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

“Peasant!” Ava blurted out with a laugh.

Neither Mr. Stone nor Lorenzo paid her the slightest bit of attention.

“Lorenzo,” he replied flatly.

Mr. Stone’s knees visibly wobbled. The color drained completely from his face. There was no mistaking it. The card was genuine, the name matched, and the young man standing before him carried the bloodline of the empire’s sole founder.

Seeing the manager's lingering shock, Ava mistook it for hesitation. She smirked triumphantly, crossing her arms. “See, Mr. Stone? He’s stalling because he knows he’s a broke fraud! Just kick him out already!”

Evan snorted loudly, pulling out his designer leather wallet. “He’s wasting everyone’s time. If a pauper like him can actually pay for an executive meal with his own card, I’ll swallow my pride and pay for every single person’s breakfast in this restaurant today!”

The crowd gasped at Evan’s arrogant declaration. Dozens of phone screens immediately raised higher, recording every second of the confrontation.

Lorenzo looked at Evan calmly, a cold, faint smile touching his lips.

“You want to make a bet, Evan?” Lorenzo's voice was quiet, but in the tense silence, it carried effortlessly.

Evan scoffed. “Bet? With you? You don’t have two pennies to rub together, Lorenzo.”

“If I can’t pay for this meal,” Lorenzo said, stepping closer until his gaze was locked onto Evan's, “you can have the guards drag me out, post the video online, and do whatever you want. But if my card clears... what is your stake?”

Ava laughed mockingly. “Look at him acting big! Evan, tell him!”

Evan’s ego flared under the glare of the rolling cameras. “Fine! If that card actually works, I’ll not only cover every bill in this room today, “Ava and I will get on our knees and apologize to you right here in front of everyone!”

Lorenzo raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”

“Of course!” Evan replied confidently.

Lorenzo shook his head and pulled out his card before handing it to Mr. Stone.

“Go ahead.”

Ava glanced at the card and laughed. “Seriously? You think that little card is going to save you? Evan already gave you a chance to apologize, and you're still showing off?”

Lorenzo ignored her and looked at Mr. Stone. “What are you waiting for? Run it!”

Mr. Stone took the card, but just as he was about to swipe it, Ava stopped him.

“Wait!” She pulled out her phone and looked around at the other customers. “Everyone, get your phones out and start recording! I want you all to capture this moment. Let's see how this pathetic man humiliates himself!”

A few customers immediately took out their phones, while others began recording from where they sat.

Ava folded her arms, waiting for Lorenzo to make a fool of himself as everyone watched Mr. Stone nervously swipe the card

​The machine didn't just beep—it produced a deep, resonant chime reserved strictly for top-tier VIP accounts. The display screen flashed a gold light:

​[TRANSACTION APPROVED — UNLIMITED BYERS EXECUTIVE CREDIT]

​The silence in the restaurant was absolute.

​Mr. Stone’s hands began to shake violently. He immedjately bowed his head until it nearly touched the marble counter. “M-Mr. Byers... My deepest apologies! The entire establishment is honored by your presence!”

​Ava’s smirk froze. The color drained from her face until she looked like a ghost. “W-What? Mr. Stone, the machine must be broken!”

​“Silence!” Mr. Stone snapped, his voice thunderous as he turned to face Evan and Ava. “You are standing in the presence of the primary owner of this entire commercial district!”

​The crowd erupted into chaotic whispers. Flashes went off repeatedly as everyone recorded Evan’s face turning from arrogant red to a sickly, pale white.

​Lorenzo slipped his hands into his pockets, looking down at Evan with cold indifference.

​“Your card cleared... the bill for the whole restaurant is on your tab, Evan,” Lorenzo said calmly. “Now... honor your stake.”

​Evan’s jaw trembled. His face turned an unsightly shade of pale, his eyes darting frantically between the golden light of the POS terminal, Mr. Stone’s bowed head, and the dozens of phone screens recording his every breath.

​“I… I…” Evan stammered, taking a step backward, his previous arrogance entirely gone. “This is a mistake! He’s playing a trick on you, Stone! He’s just a student!”

​“There is no mistake, Mr. Enzo,” Mr. Stone declared coldly, standing tall and motioning to the security guards at the door. “And if you refuse to fulfill the condition you publicly set yourself, I will personally see to it that your family’s business account with the Byers Commercial Group is terminated by noon.”

​Evan gasped as if he had been slapped across the mouth. His father would skin him alive if he lost their commercial partnership over a restaurant brawl.

​Ava’s eyes were wide with terror. She clutched Evan’s arm, her voice trembling. “Evan… do something! We can’t kneel in front of everyone! Look at all these people filming!”

​“Shut up, Ava!” Evan hissed through gritted teeth, shoving her hand off him.

​Lorenzo didn’t say a word. He just stood there, hands tucked loosely inside his pockets, his posture relaxed. For months, he had been the one looking up from the dirt while they walked over him. Now, the quiet air between them felt heavy, suffocating.

​Slowly, under the blinding flashes of phone cameras and the hushed whispers of the crowd, Evan’s legs began to shake. He looked at Lorenzo’s face—so calm, so unbothered—and realized he had no choice.

​With a heavy, humiliated breath, Evan dropped to his knees right there on the polished marble floor.

​The entire restaurant gasped.

​“Evan!” Ava shrieked in disbelief.

​“Get down, Ava!” Evan barked out in shame, his head hanging low, eyes glued to the floor. “Get down before we lose everything!”

​Ava’s lip trembled. Tears of anger and embarrassment well  in her eyes, she slowly dropped to her knees beside him. The girl who had dumped Lorenzo for being poor, who had ridiculed him just minutes ago, was now kneeling at his feet in front of the entire campus dining hall.

​“We’re… we’re sorry,” Evan muttered, the words burning like acid in his throat.

​Lorenzo looked down at them. There was a time he thought seeing this would bring him overwhelming joy, but looking at them now, kneeling in their expensive clothes, he only felt a profound, cold distance. They were small. So ridiculously small.

​“Your apology is accepted,” Lorenzo said softly, his voice cutting through the silence. He turned to Mr. Stone. “Charge the entire room’s breakfast to Mr. Evan’s card as promised. And pack my executive breakfast.”

​“Right away, Mr. Byers!” Mr. Stone bowed deeply again, rushing behind the counter himself.

​A few moments later, Mr. Stone handed Lorenzo a neatly packaged, high-end meal box. Lorenzo took it calmly, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and walked past the kneeling couple without giving them a second glance.

​The crowd parted instantly, making a wide path for him in deep respect, phone cameras following his every step until he pushed open the glass doors and stepped into the crisp air.