Chapter 70
“Calling the manager won’t change anything.” Sophia Kensington’s voice dripped with venom as she glared at Isabella Sinclair. “Are you deliberately trying to ruin our evening?”
Before she could finish, the restaurant manager, a middle-aged man in a crisp suit, hurried over, drawn by the commotion.
Ethan Blackwood smirked, recognizing the man immediately. With an arrogant flick of his wrist, he flashed his silver membership card like a badge of honor. “We reserved the private dining suite on the top floor.”
Seeing the manager approach, Sophia’s lips curled into a smug smile. “Oh, Isabella, Olivia—I didn’t mean for things to get so awkward. Why don’t I treat you both to dinner as an apology?”
Olivia Montgomery’s eyes flashed with defiance. “Save your pity. We don’t need it.”
But the manager’s attention had already shifted entirely. The moment his gaze landed on Isabella, his expression morphed from surprise to awe—then pure delight. Ignoring Ethan’s silver card completely, he stepped forward and bowed deeply.
“You should have informed us of your arrival, Miss Sinclair! We would have prepared the finest welcome.”
Isabella’s demeanor remained unshaken. “How has your boss been? It’s been a while since I last dined here.” She paused, feigning thoughtfulness. “I seem to have misplaced my black card, but I trust my privileges remain intact?”
The manager blinked, momentarily confused. Isabella was, after all, the hidden owner of this establishment—why would she phrase it like that? But one glance at her subtle, commanding gaze, and he understood.
“Of course, Miss Sinclair! Not only is your black card still valid, but you retain exclusive rights. When you dine with us, we clear the entire floor for your privacy.” He turned sharply to the stunned staff. “What are you waiting for? Prepare the top-floor suite immediately! From this moment forward, Miss Sinclair is to be treated as if she owns this restaurant.”
Sophia’s smile froze, her confidence crumbling. Isabella had a black card?
Ethan’s face twisted in disbelief. “That’s impossible! There are only ten black cards in existence—no way she has one!”
Sophia, desperate to save face, raised her voice for the growing crowd of onlookers. “Ethan’s right! How can you just shut down the restaurant for one person?”
The manager’s polite facade hardened. “I’m well aware of your silver membership status,” he said coldly. “But according to our policies, Miss Sinclair’s standing surpasses even that of a black card holder. And if she wished to close this restaurant permanently, we would comply without hesitation.”
Ethan’s jaw dropped. This was beyond absurd. He couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of Isabella—his ex-wife—holding such power. Humiliation burned through him, and he lashed out.
“Where’s this so-called black card? Got any proof? Or are you just pulling another stunt like Olivia’s ‘forgotten’ reservation?”
A bead of sweat rolled down the manager’s temple, but with Isabella remaining silent, he didn’t dare speak out of turn. Internally, he was already considering revoking Ethan’s membership. Another outburst like this, and he might not be able to smooth things over.
Isabella tilted her head, studying Ethan with mild amusement. “It’s just a card. Why would I carry it around?” Her tone turned pointed. “And regardless of status, Jasmine Restaurant doesn’t tolerate line-cutters.”
She couldn’t help but reflect on how far Ethan had fallen since their divorce. A simple dinner reservation, and here he was, throwing a tantrum like a spoiled child. The more she observed him, the more repulsive he became.
Sophia, ever the manipulator, stepped in with feigned concern. “Don’t be upset, Isabella. If you forgot your card, there’s always the fingerprint verification. I know you’re honest, but not everyone will believe it. Some might even accuse you of receiving special treatment…” Her voice was sickly sweet, her eyelashes fluttering innocently. “I’m just looking out for you. If you really do have a black card, why not prove it?”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Ethan scoffed, convinced this was all a bluff. “If she wasn’t lying, she wouldn’t need the manager to vouch for her. I never expected Jasmine Restaurant to lower its standards like this. Let just anyone in, and soon enough, you’ll offend the real elite. Wouldn’t be surprised if this place goes under within the year.”
