“Serena, really, there’s no need. I know Manager Winston, he’ll write off your debt in an instant,” Blake insisted.
“That’s your connection. It has nothing to do with me,” she snapped, then turned to the waiter. “Are you verifying it or not?”
The waiter glanced pleadingly at Blake.
“What are you looking at me for?” Blake growled. “I don’t know you.”
Jack Reed sighed, stepping forward to take the hairpin from the waiter and handing it back to Serena. “Why are you giving this away? That meal’s not worth 1,280 gold. Are you that eager to get scammed?”
“Scammed?” came a cold voice.
A stern middle-aged man strode over, Manager Winston.
He hadn’t planned to show himself, but after hearing the word “scam,” he could no longer hold back. A scene like this, if mishandled, could destroy Cloud
