On my boyfriend, Draco Leroyce's birthday, I take him to a newly-opened fancy restaurant of my own for his birthday meal.

Thinking that we'll be having a birthday cake for dessert later, Draco and I decide to order a set meal that includes a pizza and a plate of pasta.

With a smile, I hand the menu over to the waitress.

She plasters a fake smile on her face as she grabs the menu. But she secretly calls us "broke ass bastards" in Virellian.

I draw my brows into a deep frown instantly. "What did you just say?"

The waitress is momentarily stunned. Then, she shoots me another fake smile.

"I said I'll prepare your food right away."

I just sneer back at the waitress before responding to her in fluent Virellian, "You were calling us broke ass bastards."

The waitress's face went pale in an instant.

"Miss, I don't understand what you're talking about. There must be some misunderstanding."

"There's no misunderstanding, Der Penner," I repeated in Virellian.

It basically meant "pauper."

"I didn't expect a server at a high-end restaurant to have such a nasty attitude. Is this how you treat your customers? Apologize right now, or this isn't over."

It was the birthday of my boyfriend, Draco Leroyce, and I didn't want to make a scene. I would have let it go with a sincere apology, but I hadn't expected the waitress to be this shameless.

"I'm sorry, but I didn't insult you, so I have nothing to apologize for."

I let out a cold laugh. There was no point wasting time arguing with her. "Fine. Call your manager. I'll deal with them instead."

I remembered that the manager of this branch was a distant relative of my father. We had met once over dinner. He would definitely recognize me. At the mention of the manager, the waitress immediately straightened up, as if she had found her backing.

"I'm sorry, but not just anyone gets to see our manager," she said, looking me up and down with open contempt. "Head-to-toe knockoffs, and you still have the nerve to pretend you're rich."

Draco returned from the restroom just in time to hear her.

"Why don't you tell me exactly what kind of person my girlfriend is?" Draco said coldly. "You're just a server. What gives you the right to judge customers?"

The designer brands on him were all things I had picked out and paid for.

The waitress immediately switched to a completely different attitude.

"Sir, I'm sorry, it's all a misunderstanding. Our manager is busy and not in the restaurant at the moment. How about this? I'll serve your dishes first. Let's not make things difficult for each other, right?" she said sweetly, deliberately brushing against him once more.

That sight immediately set my temper on edge.

Before I could speak, Draco reacted ahead of me. He stepped back and gave her a sharp look. "Then get whoever's in charge out here. And if you've got fleas, go take a shower. Don't contaminate a place where people eat."

Her face flushed, then paled at his words. As she realized the nearby customers were watching with interest, she stomped her foot in frustration.

"Fine. I'll call the manager right now. Don't regret this," she said.

I smiled. Whether we would regret it or not remained to be seen.

A few minutes later, a man about my age walked over.

I was slightly surprised. It wasn't my father's relative. I didn't recognize this man at all.

I raised a brow. "You're the manager?"

The man lifted his chin arrogantly. "Who else would it be? You? I heard you've been giving my staff a hard time. Miss, I suggest you drop this act of throwing your weight around. If this gets blown out of proportion, you'll be the one embarrassed. I'll give you two choices. One, apologize to my employee, and enjoy your meal quietly. Two, I expose this online and turn you into public enemy number one. Your choice."

Draco and I exchanged a look, then laughed. It was the kind of laugh that came from pure disbelief. Honestly, it was our first time meeting someone this shameless. It was almost refreshing.

Since we didn't respond, the waitress assumed we were scared.

"I told you you'd regret it. I didn't even want to call the manager, but you insisted."

She then leaned against the man again. "Mr. Hayman, you're amazing."

Draco narrowed his eyes in disgust. As everything played out, I found it strangely entertaining.

"I choose option two. I told you, you'll regret this."

Draco and I turned and walked out without a backward glance, leaving them behind to rage and shout threats in our wake.

Layla and the manager acted fast. While Draco and I were at home eating birthday cake, the topic shot straight into the top ten of the trending list. They must have paid to boost it.

The hashtag #GoldDiggerCursingAWaitressInARestaurant left both my boyfriend and me stunned.

They really had a talent for distorting the truth.

In the video, Layla wore tear-effect makeup with smudged eyeliner and damp, streaked cheeks meant to make her look pitiful at first glance. Tears streamed down her face as she tearfully recounted my alleged behavior.

"I'm just a regular waitress. I just want to work peacefully and earn my money. I didn't expect her words to be so cruel. After she ordered, she called me a pauper, maybe because I don't wear designer clothes like her, so she looked down on me. Every penny I earn is honest money, not like hers…

"Luckily, our manager is a reasonable and kind person and stepped in for me. Otherwise, I can't even imagine whether she would have gone so far as to rip my clothes off."

Her speech came out uneven and broken by tears, but the full version of the events she was presenting was still easy to follow. In addition, she uploaded another video to persuade netizens.

Our family's restaurant equipped each staff member's uniform with a chest-mounted wearable camera. It was meant to protect employees from unreasonable customers and safeguard their legal rights, but now it had become an advantage for the staff instead.

She edited the footage from her body camera very cleverly, cutting it to include only the parts where I clearly and angrily said "Der Penner" to her. It made it look as if I had insulted her as a pauper, followed by scenes of me making things difficult for her.

With both the video and her testimony, netizens erupted in outrage, flooding the trending posts with insults aimed at me as they rushed to defend the working class.

"I hate these women who rely on their looks to make money. They corrupt social values. It's unfair to people like us who work ourselves to exhaustion for just a few thousand a month."

"This video makes my blood boil. What right does a gold digger have to act so superior? She really thinks sleeping with rich men makes her better than everyone else. It's ridiculous."

"She even tried to show off by speaking Virellian. She probably only knows a few sarcastic Virellian phrases her whole life. Acting like some high-achiever."

They even dug up my social media account.

My account contained posts showing gifts my boyfriend had given me, which only reinforced their belief that I was a gold digger.

My comment section and private messages had completely blown up, filled with insults and abuse.

Among the many private messages, Layla's stood out.

"How does it feel, gold digger? This is the price you pay for making things difficult for me at the restaurant. I imagine it doesn't feel very pleasant to be on the receiving end of online harassment, does it?"

"Here's the deal. Post a public apology now, and I'll forgive you and even speak up for you."

"The apology has to be sincere. For example, you should kneel in front of the camera and slap yourself. Only then will I calm down."

I typed a line with a blank expression.

"Who backed you up and made you this bold? Was it Renold Hayman, the store manager? Do you even understand that you've crossed into criminal conduct?"

I had already looked into it. Renold Hayman was the son of my father's distant cousin.

The reply came almost instantly.

"Our manager was personally appointed by headquarters. What makes you think a cheap gold digger like you can compete with us?"

Whether he was appointed by headquarters or secured the role through his father's requests to mine, I knew it very well.

To put it bluntly, he was like a dog barking in front of its owner.

I didn't reply to her any further. Instead, I quickly contacted my father, without explaining what had happened, and asked for access to the restaurant branch's surveillance system.

This was too small a matter to require my father, the CEO, to get involved. However, the moment he did, everyone below him would realize the situation was anything but simple.

Less than five minutes later, the branch's live cloud surveillance feed was sent to my phone.

After opening the surveillance feed, I saw customers flooding into the restaurant nonstop. Most of the customers were attracted by the trending topic and showed up to express their support online.

The restaurant's revenue had surged to an extreme level, reaching what the branch normally made in two months within less than six hours.

I had checked the cameras to collect evidence for a police report, but what I found was far more shocking.

Renold was in the staff lounge, holding Layla in his arms as he proudly boasted about his achievements to his father.

"Dad, revenue has increased dozens of times this time. I've skimmed over three million dollars from it. You and Mom can relax and enjoy your trip…"

After exchanging a few casual words, he hung up the call.

Layla immediately leaned in.

"Darling, this huge surge in revenue wouldn't have happened without my contribution, right? You should get me a few designer bags!"

Renold was in high spirits. "You really are my lucky star. That said, I'm planning to buy a small villa in Westville this month, priced at about four million dollars. With the current revenue, I'm still coming up short…"

Draco's professional instincts kicked in when he saw this, and he couldn't help but comment. "Abuse of authority for personal gain combined with large-scale embezzlement qualifies as a criminal offense. That carries a minimum sentence of three years. They've really got some nerve."

I gave a quiet hum in response. At this point, the matter was no longer just defamation. Since that was the case, everything would be settled together.

Layla pouted.

"If I can come up with the remaining 600 thousand dollars, you'll add my name to the villa ownership, won't you?"

A sly glint appeared in Renold's eyes.

"Of course."

With the promise secured, the two of them happily sank onto the sofa together. Half an hour later, I received a private message from Layla.

"I'll give you one more chance. Transfer 600 thousand to me immediately, and I'll publicly clarify to netizens that you're not a gold digger."

Draco couldn't help but comment, "Extortion layered on top of blackmail only makes it worse. It's rare to see someone so eager to commit a crime."

I smirked slightly and replied, "I'll give you the money, but I need to confirm you'll keep your promise. We'll meet at the restaurant tomorrow morning for the exchange."

At the same time, I reached out to Warren Hayman as the general manager of the Eastonia region.

"I've heard your branch's revenue has increased dozens of times. I'll conduct a personal inspection tomorrow. Come to the company to pick me up."

That night, Warren didn't dare delay for even a moment. He boarded a flight back and headed straight to the company upon landing.

As soon as he saw me, he hurried over and addressed me with respect.

I handed him a black case filled with cash. "This contains 600 thousand dollars in cash. It's meant to be distributed to your staff later."

Warren smiled broadly. "The store's performance has indeed been excellent, but there's no need to reward them with this much. Ms. Cole, you've really gone above and beyond."

I simply smiled and said nothing.

En route to the Rosenhall branch, Layla sent me another private message. "Senior management will be here for an inspection this morning. You can't show up. We'll deal with it in the afternoon."

Warren had likely already given Renold a heads-up. I ignored her message. Whether I showed up was not her decision to make.

All the staff were already lined up to greet us, but Renold was nowhere to be seen. I knew he was likely busy covering his tracks and deleting any evidence of his illicit gains.

At that moment, Layla turned and spotted me. Her eyes widened in shock.