Chapter 1: The Fifty-Thousand-Dollar Bill

The afternoon had been surprisingly peaceful.

After spending the entire morning reviewing investment reports, I decided to reward myself with lunch at White Étoile, the only Michelin three-star restaurant in the city. It was also my younger brother Dennis White's greatest pride. Five years earlier, when every bank had rejected his business proposal, I had quietly invested ten million dollars to help him build the restaurant from the ground up.

I had never asked for repayment.

Watching him succeed had always been enough.

Since then, I visited only occasionally. Dennis insisted I eat for free whenever I came, claiming that no amount of money could repay everything I'd done for him. We had even linked my information to his owner account so I never had to explain who I was.

Today's lunch had been simple—a grilled wagyu steak, roasted vegetables, mushroom soup, and a slice of chocolate soufflé. Hardly extravagant.

Satisfied, I picked up my handbag and headed toward the exit.

"Miss, excuse me."

A sharp female voice stopped me before I reached the front door.

I turned around.

A woman in a perfectly pressed black manager's uniform stood behind the reception desk. Judging from her unfamiliar face, she had to be new.

"Yes?" I asked politely.

She offered a professional smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"You haven't paid your bill."

I smiled back.

"Just put it on the owner's account. Dennis knows I'm here."

Instead of checking the system, the woman's expression immediately changed.

Her polite smile vanished.

"I'm sorry, miss, but this is a Michelin three-star restaurant."

"We don't allow customers to leave without paying simply because they claim to know the owner."

She slid a printed invoice across the marble counter.

Curious, I picked it up.

The total made me blink.

Fifty thousand dollars.

"What?"

I looked down again.

Three thousand dollars for premium tableware maintenance.

Five thousand dollars for exclusive air purification.

Ten thousand dollars for VIP emotional atmosphere enhancement.

Luxury service surcharge.

Private dining experience adjustment.

Premium hospitality fee.

The list went on and on.

For a second, I honestly wondered whether someone had accidentally handed me another customer's bill.

Then I laughed.

Not because it was funny.

Because it was ridiculous.

"Interesting," I murmured.

"I didn't realize my brother's restaurant had become so creative with its pricing."

The manager folded her arms.

"If you have a problem with the bill, you can file a complaint after paying."

"Otherwise, you'll need to settle it now."

I placed the invoice back on the counter.

"Listen," I said calmly.

"My name is Theresa White."

"Dennis White is my younger brother."

"If you check the owner's account, my profile is already registered there."

"Or simply call him."

"He'll explain everything."

Instead of checking the computer, she laughed.

Loudly.

Several diners looked over.

"Do you know how many people claim to be related to Mr. White every month?" she sneered.

"One says she's his cousin. Another claims she's his aunt."

"Now we've upgraded to an older sister?"

"Creative."

I frowned.

"I'm not joking."

"Neither am I."

She leaned forward.

"Either pay the fifty thousand dollars..."

"Or we'll handle this another way."

I sighed.

Dennis really needed to review his hiring decisions.

I took out my phone and dialed his number.

Busy.

I tried again.

Busy.

A third time.

Straight to voicemail.

"He's probably in a meeting," I muttered.

The manager watched me with obvious amusement.

"Nice performance."

"What?"

"Calling random numbers to make it look convincing."

I slipped my phone back into my purse.

"Fine."

"If Dennis can't answer, check his owner profile."

"My information is linked there."

"You'll find my name and photograph."

For the first time, something flickered across her face.

Recognition.

But it wasn't the kind I expected.

She stared at me before suddenly laughing even harder.

"Theresa White?"

"So that's the game you're playing."

She lowered her voice.

"I've seen your face before."

"On Dennis's social media."

I blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"You're the shameless woman who's been chasing my boyfriend."

"Don't bother pretending anymore."

My eyebrows shot up.

"Your boyfriend?"

She pointed proudly at herself.

"Jessica Carter."

"Dennis's girlfriend."

"We've been together for months."

For a moment, I simply stared.

So this was the mysterious girlfriend Dennis kept refusing to introduce.

Every time I asked, he'd grin and say, 'You'll meet her when the time is right.'

Apparently...

The time had arrived.

Unfortunately.

"Jessica," I said patiently.

"You've misunderstood."

"No," she snapped.

"You've been leaving comments under Dennis's posts."

"You've had dinner with him."

"You've even taken pictures together."

"Do you think I wouldn't notice?"

I rubbed my forehead.

Those pictures were from family holidays.

Birthday parties.

Christmas dinners.

One even included our parents.

Had she never looked closely?

"He's my brother," I repeated slowly.

"Enough!"

Jessica slammed her palm on the counter.

"Stop lying!"

"Women like you disgust me."

"Trying to seduce successful men and then pretending to be family when you get caught."

Gasps echoed around the lobby.

Every guest was now openly watching us.

I could feel dozens of eyes fixed on my back.

"Jessica," I said firmly.

"You're making a very serious mistake."

"Am I?"

She smiled coldly before raising her hand.

"Security!"

Two large guards immediately approached.

"This woman refuses to pay and is impersonating Mr. White's family."

"Escort her to the staff office while we call the police."

"What?"

Before I could react, one guard grabbed my wrist.

"Let go of me."

"Ma'am, please cooperate."

"I'm not resisting."

"Then release my arm."

Instead, they tightened their grip.

Pain shot through my shoulder.

"Jessica!" I shouted.

"You're crossing a line!"

"The only line being crossed," she replied with a satisfied smile,

"is yours."

"Maybe spending a night in jail will teach you not to chase someone else's man."

The guards dragged me across the elegant dining room.

Guests whispered among themselves.

Some secretly recorded everything with their phones.

Others simply watched in silence.

No one stepped forward.

The heavy kitchen door swung open.

The smell of expensive dishes mixed with industrial cleaning chemicals filled the air.

They shoved me toward a dark storage room.

"You'll stay here until the police arrive," one guard said.

The metal door slammed shut behind me.

The lock clicked.

For several seconds, I stood there in complete darkness.

Then my phone vibrated inside my purse.

A message from my secretary flashed across the screen.

"Ms. White, the emergency board meeting has ended. Is everything alright?"

I stared at the words for a moment.

Then I slowly smiled.

Jessica wanted to play games.

Fine.

She had no idea whose restaurant she had just turned into a crime scene.