Chapter 4

The door to the private room swung open.

The man who entered was no ordinary waiter, but a middle-aged man in a suit and tie with a refined air. Behind him came two finance staff, carrying a card reader and a long bill.

At the sight of the middle-aged man, several of the business-minded classmates present sobered up halfway.

"This... isn't this General Manager Finch from the Hyatt Regency?" Someone recognized him.

Christopher Finch was a prominent figure in Seaford City's business world. Normally it was hard just to get a meeting with him, so why had he come to the private room in person to settle the bill tonight?

Luther was startled for a moment too, then felt enormously flattered. "Oh, Mr. Finch himself has come? Looks like I've got a lot of pull."

A professional smile on his face, Finch ignored Luther's boasting and walked straight to the head table, gently setting the long bill down on it.

"Good evening, everyone. This is tonight's bill. Please take a look."

Luther grinned as he picked it up. "How much is it? All this ceremony..."

His eyes landed on the last number on the bill, and his voice cut off.

In that instant, his eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, and the alcohol turned at once into cold sweat, pouring out of every pore.

"How... how much?!" Luther's voice cracked, sharp as a duck being throttled.

"Impossible! This is a rip-off joint!" Luther shot to his feet and flung the bill onto the table. "One meal costs over a million? Why don't you just rob us?!"

"Over a million?!"

The whole private room erupted. Judy nearly dropped the glass in her hand, and everyone crowded around in horror.

The bill was densely packed with all sorts of expensive dishes, but the most glaring item of all was the bottle of wine listed on the very first line.

"1945 Romanée-Conti, unit price: $1,680,000."

All those zeros were dizzying to look at.

"This... this wine is that expensive?!" Judy's face went white; she had just been downing glass after glass of it like water.

Finch kept his smile, his tone gentle but leaving no room for argument. "Sir, only 600 bottles of the 1945 Romanée-Conti were ever produced worldwide; this is an auction-grade vintage. Add the other top-tier ingredients and drinks, round down, and the total comes to 1.85 million. Will you be paying by card or check?"

"I... I..." Luther's legs gave out and he collapsed into his chair. He had some money, sure, but he only ran a small contracting firm; his entire net worth added up to just a few million in liquid cash. Blowing nearly two million on one meal was going to be the death of him!

"It's him!" Luther suddenly pointed at Adam, standing off to the side, as if grabbing a lifeline. "He ordered it! He brought it out! I didn't know the wine was this expensive! He's an employee of your hotel—he set me up on purpose!"

Judy caught on too and shrieked, "Right! It's Adam! He said it wasn't expensive! He did it on purpose! This is fraud! We're calling the police!"

Every accusing finger instantly turned on Adam.

"Adam, you broke loser, what are you up to?!"

"Are you trying to get us all killed?"

Facing the condemnation of the whole room, the meekness on Adam's face vanished. Unhurriedly, he unfastened his cufflinks, straightened his collar, and his expression turned cold and commanding.

"You're the ones who told them to bring the wine," Adam said flatly. "And you're the ones who said you wanted the best. What, now that you've finished eating, you want to skip out on the bill?"

"What right does a waiter like you have to talk to us!" Luther, beside himself with rage, lunged forward to grab Adam by the collar. "I'll kill you today!"

But before his hand could touch Adam, Finch beside him blocked it.

The gentle, refined Finch of a moment ago now wore a face cold as frost. He shoved Luther away with such force that Luther stumbled backward.

Then, before everyone's stunned eyes, Finch straightened his clothes, turned to face Adam, and bowed deeply, a full ninety degrees.

The posture was respectful in the extreme, as if paying homage to an emperor.

"Chairman."

Finch's voice was not loud, but in the deathly silent room it landed like a thunderclap.

"I'm sorry you were put through this. Shall this... still be charged directly to the group's entertainment account?"

The air froze.

Time seemed to stop in that moment.

Luther's mouth gaped open, his jaw hanging as if dislocated; Judy's exquisite face twisted into a ridiculous shape; the classmates who had just been sneering at Adam were all rooted in place, dumbstruck.

"Chair... Chairman?" Julius stammered, breaking the silence.

Adam paid no attention to their reactions and simply patted Finch on the shoulder. "No need to run it through the company accounts. Since Mr. Lambert and the beautiful Judy are so generous, how could we not give them the chance to pay for it themselves?"

He turned and looked down at Luther, slumped in his chair, and Judy, pale as a corpse.

"That tip earlier—you gave it too soon."

Adam took the thousand off the table and gently patted it against Luther's pale face, making a crisp little sound.

"Keep this money to cover the interest. If you can't clear this bill today, I'll have the legal department take its time working things out with you."

With that, Adam didn't spare them another glance and turned toward the door. As he reached Silas, he stopped and smiled warmly. "Silas, tomorrow bring your resume straight to HR and ask for Mr. Finch. Just say I sent you."

Amid the awe, regret, and fear in everyone's eyes, Adam pushed open the door and left, leaving behind only an unreachable figure and a room full of people sick with remorse.