I dropped my car off for maintenance at the service center. When it was finished, I told the staff to put it on the tab of my cousin, who ran the shop.

The staff member nodded and started to process it, but then the female manager stepped in.

"We don't do tabs here. You've got to pay up now," she said, slapping the bill down right in front of me.

Premium Diagnostic Scan: $80,000

Exhaust System Sound Enhancement: $100,000

Engine Harmony Calibration: $100,000

Total: $280,000.

I laughed at the absurdity. Since when did my cousin start running a rip-off operation?

The manager crossed her arms and gave me a snooty once-over. "Always trying to mooch off Chad. I've seen plenty of broke relatives like you. If you can't swing it, don't act like you can."

Unwilling to argue with her, I pulled out my phone and called my cousin. "You have ten minutes to fire the manager, or your shop is finished."

"Adriano, is there some kind of mix-up?" Chad Graham stammered, his voice laced with guilt and nerves.

"Mix-up?" I snorted. "You think I'm the type to make trouble out of nothing? This isn't a discussion. It's a directive. Handle your employee right now!"

My harsh words took him aback. He recovered quickly, trying to placate me. "Take it easy, man. Pass the phone to her. I'll figure out what happened."

I sneered, handing the phone to the manager, Beryl Merritt.

She rolled her eyes and grabbed it half-heartedly. "I already told you, Chad. Cut ties with these freeloading relatives. They just use your name to score perks. This one is the worst, thinking he can bail after the maintenance is done."

Chad tried to explain, but she steamrolled him. "You're just too nice, always hung up on family ties. If you can't make tough calls, that's fine. I'll be the bad person today."

She hung up, tossed the phone back, and jutted her chin out. "Heard that? Chad is not bothering with your drama. The total is $280,500, and I'll knock off the $500. Cash, card, or transfer? Pay up, or security is showing you the door!"

She stressed her tone at the end of her speech, making the threat crystal clear. Her sheer nerve and cluelessness made me laugh.

In fact, no one had dared to pull this crap with me in years.

Right then, the VIP room door swung open, and Chad hustled in, jogging over with a forced smile. "Adriano, hey. This is a total screw-up. Ms. Merritt is really just doing her job. Don't take it personally."

Before I could say a word, Beryl howled like a banshee, "Chad, come on! I'm looking out for you here. You want to let every sketchy type use your name to bleed the business dry? That'd make you happy?"

She grabbed his arm and shook it, all the while shooting me a provocative glare. I'd be a fool if I couldn't figure out what was going on.

That explained why a mid-level manager like her was so arrogant. She had an inside track.

Confirming my suspicion, Chad squeezed out a grin and went for the family angle. "Beryl is my girlfriend. We're getting engaged next month. We'll all be family, seeing each other around. Let me pick up the tab, okay?"

"No need," I refused flatly, dissatisfied with his attitude.

If not for our family ties and pitying his situation back then, he'd still be scraping by at job fairs.

The whole setup for this service center—the design, the decor, the business plan, the connections, and even the seed money—came straight from me. I'd kept it quiet to spare his ego, so he had no idea I was the real owner.

But now, for this narrow-minded, toxic woman, he was ready to burn bridges. If that was how he wanted it, I wasn't pulling punches anymore.

$280,000 was just chump change for me. I spent more than that on a single day's whims.

What got under my skin wasn't the cash; it was Chad's ingratitude.

"I'll pay," I said.

Beryl's face lit up with a victorious smirk, and Chad let out a visible sigh of relief.

"But," I added, my voice sharpening, "you need to break this down for me—every charge, every detail, crystal clear."

Beryl quickly pulled out the prepped invoice and recited it with a cocky vibe. "Alright. Let's start with the premium diagnostic scan. We're talking imported analyzers, run by experts with international certifications. It took a full three hours, charged at global rates. Then, your exhaust pipe was messing with the sound profile, so we upgraded it with an opera-inspired resonance chamber. Now it roars like Pavarotti, rich and commanding. Totally elevates the value."

I couldn't believe my ears. My three business partners who'd tagged along stifled smirks, and even Chad bowed his head in embarrassment.

Beryl kept going, getting more absurd by the second. "Last but not least, our technicians found an imbalance in your turbo boost. It was a serious issue that required Swiss-precision calibration in a vacuum environment, with HQ experts guiding remotely for that deep, almost spiritual sync between the turbo and the engine. This is a premium, one-of-a-kind service, you follow? Everything here is upfront and fair. You're just not used to this level, so it's blowing your mind."

That final jab was pure disdain, meant to humiliate me.

One of the partners, David Brooks, stepped in to end the farce. "Adriano, it's getting late. Let's head out. I'll cover the bill."

I held up a hand to stop him. By now, this wasn't about money anymore.

I'd come here to hook Chad up with these valuable partners while getting a quick tune-up, only for Beryl to turn it into a public humiliation. It was just crazy.

I pushed down my anger and turned to my partners apologetically. "Sorry you had to see this nonsense. It totally ruined the vibe. To make it up, I'll book the entire Summit Peak this Saturday and host a proper dinner for you guys."

Almost simultaneously, their phones started pinging with confirmations from Summit Peak. David, who'd just offered to pay, looked shocked and excited all at once.

They were all accomplished in their fields, but in the top-tier circles, they didn't quite rank. Summit Peak was known as a mythic private spot where real power players met.

It was invite-only; no amount of cash could buy entry without connections. Yet I'd locked it in with one simple message.

Any doubts they might've had about me evaporated right there. The way they looked at me shifted to straight-up respect.

I escorted them to the entrance, watching their cars disappear down the road. As soon as the taillights faded, my smile vanished, replaced by icy resolve.

I turned back to clean house, but Beryl blocked my path with two hulking security guards.

"Halt!" she shrieked, pointing accusingly at my face. "Think you can slip away like that? Pay up, or you're not going anywhere!"

The guards moved in, looking ready for trouble. I paused, taking in the absurdity without a word.

Getting blocked at the door of my property and shaken down for bogus fees? It was utterly absurd.

Beryl's piercing screech at the shop entrance pulled a crowd from the lobby.

The customers craned their necks to watch the scene. Their stares, full of judgment, landed on me like I was some lowlife trying to skip out on the check.

"Dine and dash at Seaview? That's insane."

"Dressed all sharp but pulling this crap?"

"Can't afford Seaview? Stay home. Don't embarrass yourself here."

My blood boiled at the public condemnation. Nearby, Chad looked ashen, sweat trickling down his face. "Beryl, maybe we should just drop it."

He tugged at her sleeve, hoping to defuse the tension, but her eyes bulged with rage. "Grow a spine! The money is right there. Why push it away? Milk him now or what?"

Flinching, Chad swallowed his further persuasions and quietly shrank back. His cowardice only fueled my rage and cemented my disappointment.

Keeping a straight face, I pulled out my phone and dialed my assistant. "Grab $500,000 cash from the car and bring it to the front."

It wasn't long before Ross rushed over with a heavy silver suitcase.

I nodded for him to pop it open. With a click, the lid flipped up, revealing neat stacks of hundreds. The sight was a total showstopper.

Gasps filled the air, and the whispers stopped dead.

Beryl's eyes went wide; she hadn't pegged me, whom she deemed a poor relative for someone who'd casually drop half a million in cash.

"Should've asked for a million," she groaned under her breath, glancing around like she'd lost a fortune.

Her gaze was fixed on the money. She swallowed hard, her breathing quickening.

She lunged to close the case. "Wise choice! $280,000 for the service; the rest covers the hit to our reputation from your stunt."

"Hold up!" I held the lid down, blocking her.

She narrowed her eyes, suspicious. "What, backing out now?"

"Take the cash," I said, staring her down, "but produce a receipt first. Put everything in black and white."

Chad jolted, finally grasping how badly things had spiraled. He grabbed her arm in a panic. "We can't do that. Give it back to Adriano."

"Back off, you useless wimp!" She shook him off, shooting him a disgusted look. "Spit out easy money? Hell no! This is what he owes. Paperwork makes it official. Done deal."

Blinded by greed, she ignored every red flag, snatched paper and a pen from a nearby employee, scrawled her name with a flourish, and added a thumbprint for good measure.

"There!" She flung the receipt my way and clutched the case like a lifeline. "See, babe? That's how it's done. This is my play money now. I've been eyeing that limited Hermès bag forever. Finally, I can get it!"

She beamed triumphantly, linking arms with Chad in cloying sweetness. She was immersed in the joy of her windfall and luxury dreams, her face glowing with happiness.

Just as she tugged Chad away, brakes squealed outside. Three black vans emblazoned with the Seaview logo pulled up to the curb.