C5 Blessing Restaurant!

Inside the office, Lavinia was fraught with worry. There were issues with the company's orders, and she couldn't recover the funds. Without a resolution, the company was teetering on the brink of bankruptcy!

Her best friend, Maribel, chimed in, "This is all because of your lackluster husband. Imagine if you'd married Grant instead. He's not only handsome and skilled in taekwondo, but he's also an international student with a promising future. Plus, he's head over heels for you. Have you called him yet? Why hasn't he shown up?"

As she spoke, there was a knock at the door.

"I'm here!"

Maribel turned to Lavinia with excitement, "Quick, spruce yourself up. You've got to make a great impression on Grant."

But to their surprise, it was Duane who entered.

Maribel's face fell; she had no desire to engage with him.

"Why are you here? Didn't I tell you to stop showing up at the office?" Lavinia asked, her brow furrowed in annoyance.

She dreaded Duane's visits; they always led to snickers from the staff.

"I've come to bring you money," Duane said, setting down the suitcase with a grin.

"You're giving me money?" Lavinia was taken aback and grew even more irritated.

How much money could he possibly have? Was he just trying to make her life more difficult?

Maribel scoffed at the scene. "Duane, you and Lavinia are worlds apart. The kind of money she needs isn't what you're thinking—a few hundred bucks. Get it? If you have any decency left, stop holding Lavinia back. You're simply not her match!"

Duane bristled with anger. "You're not my wife. What's it to you?"

"You think you can talk to me like that, you good-for-nothing who can only cook and clean?" Maribel retorted, fuming.

Lavinia, equally frustrated, said, "Duane, could you please show some respect for my friend?"

Ignoring Maribel, Duane placed the suitcase on the table and announced, "Honey, this is eight million."

"Eight million?" Lavinia was momentarily taken aback, then her annoyance flared anew. "I'm really not in the mood for your jokes right now!"

"It's really eight million."

Duane gave a wry smile.

Maribel, now in stitches, teased him, "I've heard Lavinia only gives you six hundred dollars a month. Even if you scrimped and saved, after three years, you'd barely have over three thousand. You're not fooling anyone."

Duane tried to explain, but Lavinia, clearly agitated, cut him off, "Enough, just go book a private room at Blessing Restaurant for me. I'm hosting dinner tonight!"

She couldn't stand the sight of him any longer and was desperate to send him away.

"Okay, I'm on it."

Hearing the mention of Blessing Restaurant, Duane decided to head there too and set the box down.

He was convinced that once she saw the contents, she'd believe him.

Lavinia, however, had no interest in the box and nonchalantly kicked it aside.

"Lavinia, you have to divorce Duane!" Maribel insisted. "Where's Grant? Why hasn't he shown up?"

"I'll check."

Lavinia phoned the reception desk.

"If Grant can pull through for you this time, then dump that deadbeat husband of yours. Marry Grant instead. I know you've got a soft spot, but you've supported Duane for three years—that's gratitude enough. He shouldn't hold you back from happiness for the rest of your life."

Maribel kept up her counsel.

Mid-call, Lavinia paused, shocked, "Grant got chased off by my husband?"

Maribel was equally taken aback.

They quickly reviewed the entrance's security footage.

And there it was.

Grant and Duane had come to blows right outside the company, with Duane sending Grant packing.

"We're doomed!" Maribel exclaimed. "Grant was our only hope."

"Duane's nothing but a nuisance!" Lavinia fumed internally.

Without Grant's willingness to lend her the eight million, she was left with no other options—her company was as good as ruined.

She frantically tried to call Grant to apologize on Duane's behalf.

But she couldn't reach Grant, no matter how hard she tried.

"We'll have to go with plan B. I'll ask Darcy for a loan tonight; her new boyfriend is loaded," Maribel suggested. "Did you really tell Duane to reserve Blessing Restaurant? That place will cost a fortune!"

A simple meal at Blessing Restaurant could set you back tens of thousands, a price not meant for the average person.

"There's no way around it. Darcy insisted on it," Lavinia sighed.

Maribel was livid. "She knows you're struggling, yet she still insists on you ordering from Blessing Restaurant."

"I've got about thirty to forty thousand dollars left. Use it for now," Lavinia offered.

Duane left the office and rode his electric bike towards Blessing Restaurant. He phoned Christian, "Could you get in touch with the owner of Blessing Restaurant for me?"

"Young lord, has he crossed you? Should I make Blessing Restaurant vanish?" Christian inquired.

"No, it's not like that. I've got a business proposition for him; I'm on my way there now," Duane replied.

After hanging up, Duane soon reached Blessing Restaurant.

He gazed up at the towering building, nodding with approval, and murmured, "It's conveniently close to home."

As he was about to enter, a security guard blocked his path.

"What's your business here?"

"I need to see your boss," Duane stated.

The guard looked at Duane as if he were a fool. "We hardly ever see the boss. What makes you think you can?"

"I have an appointment with him."

"Your outfit might be worth a couple hundred dollars at best. And you claim to have an appointment with our boss?" the guard scoffed with laughter.

Duane's brow arched. "Feeling superior, are we, just because you're security?"

The guard's face flushed with anger. "Get lost, now!"

Duane didn't bother arguing. He pulled out his phone to call Christian again.

Just then, a stunning woman approached. The guard ogled her and whispered, "To spend one night with a beauty like that, I'd die happy!"

Duane turned to look.

She was stylish in her sunglasses, oozing sex appeal.

"Freya?"

He recognized her immediately.

She was Duane's high school classmate, who had since become a star. Funnily enough, his wife was a fan and had been eager to get her autograph.

And there she was, as fate would have it, right in front of him today.

"Freya, it's me. Remember? We shared a class senior year."

Duane greeted her with a warm smile.

Freya recognized him as well.

She had once seen potential in him during their school days.

But her opinion soured when she noticed his cheap shoes, worth barely a few dollars, and she couldn't help but sneer.

She had harbored a crush on him back then, but he was unambitious and indifferent to her advances.

Later, at a class reunion, she learned that Duane had married into the Xavier family and was living a pitiful life—his wife allotted him a mere six hundred dollars each month.

To her, he was utterly worthless.

The thought of her past infatuation now filled Freya with shame!

And in front of her adoring fans, how could she possibly acknowledge him?

So she feigned ignorance and walked past Duane without a word.

As Duane tried to speak up again, her assistant blocked him with a contemptuous sneer, "Beat it. Stop harassing Freya. She couldn't possibly have a classmate like you."

Seeing Freya's indifferent demeanor, Duane shook his head in disappointment, realizing how materialistic his old classmate had become.

A nearby security guard mocked him, "Trying to cozy up to the celebrity, huh?"

"Think you can use that angle to get close to Freya? That's laughable."

Others joined in the mockery.

Just then, a sleek black Mercedes pulled up hastily at the hotel entrance!