Trevor's fake smile was starting to twitch.
The waiters came in like a parade—dish after dish after dish. Plates shimmered with elegance: bowls of saffron risotto, grilled Alaskan king crab legs . Steaming octopus, black truffle mash, caviar towers, and bottles of wine that whispered secrets from a thousand-dollar shelf.
Ethan was already devouring the steak like a condemned man enjoying his last meal.
"Mmm. This is divine." He carved through another chunk, then looked up and gestured at Nate and Sasha. "You guys should eat too. Don't hold back."
"I'm okay," Sasha said hesitantly, her appetite dulled by the earlier tension.
Ethan smiled. "Come on, Sasha. Don't embarrass Trevor. You say the word, and he'll book the entire restaurant."
Trevor, already checking his phone under the table, nearly dropped it. He was frantically messaging someone:
"Bro. Urgent. I need 40k NOW. Please. I'll pay double tomorrow."
He wiped his forehead as another wine bottle arrived.
The others, sensing Ethan's cue, finally dug in too—grabbing forks and going for everything like it was a food festival and they hadn't eaten in a year.
"Try this octopus!" one guy laughed, shoving some in his mouth.
A girl clapped her hands. "Trevor, babe, you always go all out~"
Trevor, barely breathing, laughed with them. "Heh… y-yeah… eat up, everyone."
Inside, he was dying.
His card limit was 30k. Total.
As Riley passed him another crab leg, he whispered to himself: "What the hell is caviar even made of… gold-dipped fish eggs?!"
The entire table turned into a frenzy. Food flew off plates. Mouths full. Laughter rising again—this time not at Ethan, but in delight at the expensive feast.
Trevor looked around. Each bite felt like a blade going into his wallet. Every glass clink was a funeral bell tolling for his bank account.
He tried again:
"PLEASE ANSWER. I'm in deep sh*t."
No reply.
Finally, the feast ended. Plates were empty. Glasses were dry.
And then… the waiter returned.
With a single sheet of paper.
"Sir, your bill."
He handed it to Trevor with both hands, bowing politely.
Trevor unrolled the paper and nearly spat the water he was sipping.
$122,893.25
Everyone at the table went silent.
Trevor's girls blinked. One of them slowly moved her hand off his lap.
"Damn, that's… a lot," one of the other guys muttered.
He coughed violently, nearly choking. "Wha—?! T-This… This is wrong! You guys made a mistake, right?!"
The waiter blinked. "No, sir."
Trevor laughed nervously and pulled out his first card.
Declined.
Second card.
Declined.
Third card.
Declined again.
Everyone stared at him.
"I'm terribly sorry, sir… but your card was declined."
Trevor blinked.
"What?"
The waiter held the card up. "We attempted to run it three times. Declined each time."
A few gasps rose from the table.
"Uh… must be a system error," Trevor muttered, wiping sweat off his upper lip. "Lemme just call my bank—"
"No need," Ethan said, standing.
He took his own card from his pocket and handed it to the waiter. "Put it on me."
The waiter bowed and walked away.
Trevor's jaw hung open. "Y-You…?"
As he left, Ethan stood slowly.
He adjusted his collar, brushed invisible dust off his shoulder, and turned to Trevor with a gentle smile.
"Don't worry about it, Trev. These things happen. Sometimes life just… declines you."
Everyone. Went. Silent.
Trevor stared at him like a stunned toad. The girls beside him were now actively scooting away.
Ethan stepped closer.
"And hey," he added cheerfully, "thanks for the food. I had a great time."
"That bloated belly of yours was doing most of the talking, but I hope your brain heard a bit too."
He turned to the others at the table.
Then, with one final toast—glass raised high—he said:
"To those who thought I was beneath them. Enjoy the view now."
Ethan turned to Nate and Sasha.
"Let's go."
He downed the rest of his wine, set the glass down neatly, and walked toward the exit.
Not a word was said. They all lowered their heads.
Outside, Sasha finally broke the silence. "Ethan… how did you—?"
He smiled. "I got lucky. Made a good investment. Fortune found me."
Nate pulled him into a hug. "Man, we're so glad you're doing well."
Ethan nodded. "You two want to open a café, right?"
Both of them blinked.
"Yes," Nate said. "But—"
"Come with me tomorrow. I'll help you find a good location. I'll be your investor."
Sasha gasped. "Ethan… that's too much. We can't let you—"
He cut her off gently. "Don't worry about the money. That's my problem. Just make it great."
The two looked at him, speechless. Then Sasha hugged him tight.
"Thank you."
"That's what friends are for," Ethan said softly.
"We'll talk to our parents," Nate added. "We'll need a week, maybe, to get things in order."
"No problem," Ethan said. "Take your time."
They said their goodbyes with smiles, warmth… and hope.
But far from their sight, on a shadowed rooftop nearby…
A man lowered his phone from his ear.
"He's here," he said.
The voice on the other end replied coldly:
"Give my sister the best gift."
The man smiled faintly. "Don't worry, sir. The person I sent only takes one shot."
He looked at the woman in the distance.
"She doesn't leave loose ends. It'll be clean."
The woman caught his gaze and gave a slow nod… then vanished into the shadows.