Chapter 578: Lending Money?
For a moment... Silence.
Then Aurora slowly raised her hand, offering an awkward smile. "That would be... me."
All eyes turned toward her.
Aurora let out a nervous chuckle. "Did I... mess something up?"
Mary sighed, rubbing her temple lightly. "You did," she said. "Candice shouldn’t have been invited. We’re not close to her."
Aurora frowned slightly. "But she used to give me candy when I was a kid," she replied. "And she said she and father were close."
The moment those words left her mouth... Mary shot a sharp, dangerous glance at Adam.
Adam immediately raised both hands in surrender. "I didn’t do anything!" he protested. "Don’t look at me like that... I feel wronged!"
Aurora blinked, confused, while the others struggled to hold back their laughter.
After the party ended, everyone assumed that was the end of it.
But...it wasn’t. In the following days, Adam began receiving calls from unknown numbers. At first, he ignored them, assuming they were promotional calls.
But one day...by accident... He picked one up. The line connected. A faint static crackled in the background, followed by a voice.
Familiar...
Yet strangely distant.
"Adam..." the voice said slowly, almost lingering over his name. "It’s been a long time since we last met. Why don’t we go for a stroll?"
The voice on the phone carried a strange familiarity, rough around the edges yet oddly nostalgic. For a brief moment, Adam frowned, his brows knitting together as he tried to place it.
’Who...?’
Then it clicked. An old acquaintance. Someone from the repair shop days.
Back when his hands constantly smelled of grease and metal, when late nights were spent under flickering lights, and cheap conversations filled the silence.
They hadn’t been close, not really, but they had shared a few drinks, a few laughs, enough to recognize each other.
’Frank...’
Even if their relationship had never been good, it wasn’t bad enough to refuse outright.
"Alright," Adam replied after a brief pause.
The man on the other end chuckled, a hint of greed slipping through his tone.
"Good. And since I’ve heard you’ve become rich now... this one’s on you. I’ve already shortlisted a few five-star hotels in the area."
Adam’s fingers tightened slightly around the phone. ’So that’s how it is...’
He could already tell...this wasn’t just a reunion.
Still, he let out a quiet breath. ’It’s just one meal,’ he thought. ’I can tolerate it.’
.....
The restaurant was lavish. Adam sat across from Frank.
The man looked older, rougher, his eyes carrying a restless glint that made Adam uneasy.
The moment they settled... Frank began.
"Life’s been really hard for me lately," he said, leaning back with an exaggerated sigh. "You wouldn’t understand."
Adam didn’t respond immediately.
He simply watched.
Frank leaned forward, lowering his voice slightly. "I’m in a tough spot... I urgently need two hundred thousand dollars."
The words landed bluntly. Adam’s expression darkened.
He slowly leaned back in his chair, his gaze narrowing. "What do you mean?"
Frank let out a small laugh, waving his hand casually. "What do I mean? Come on, Adam. You’ve got money now. Why not lend me some?"
Silence stretched between them.
Adam’s fingers tapped lightly against the table before he spoke. "I can’t."
The refusal was calm. Firm.
Frank’s smile faltered for a split second before he quickly recovered. "Alright, alright," he said hastily. "I’ll return it... with interest. Eleven percent. That’s fair, right?"
Adam didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a pen, and grabbed a sheet of paper from the table.
He slid it across. "If that’s the case," he said evenly, "write a legal agreement. Sign it."
He paused, his gaze steady. "Or at least write an IOU and stamp it with your fingerprint."
For a moment... Frank froze.
His hand hovered above the paper, his throat tightening as disbelief flickered across his face.
’This... is Adam?’
The same easygoing man from before?
He forced a laugh, though it came out strained. "Haha... you really know how to joke around," he said. "Would you really ask your own buddy to sign something like that?"
He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "I promise I’ll return it. Don’t you trust me?"
Adam nodded slowly. "I do," he said.
Frank’s face lit up instantly. But before the smile could fully form... Adam continued.
"I promise I’ll give you one million dollars."
For a second... Frank’s mind went blank. One million? His heart leapt.
But then...
"Now that I’ve promised," Adam added calmly, leaning back in his chair, "you can leave."
The smile on Frank’s face froze.
"What?" he blurted. "You haven’t even transferred the money yet!"
Adam chuckled softly, picking up his glass. "No need to rush," he said lightly. "I’ve already made a promise. What’s the hurry?"
That was when it hit.
Frank’s expression twisted as realization dawned.
’He’s playing with me.’
His hands clenched tightly against the table, veins bulging slightly as anger surged through him.
"You!" he snapped, pointing a finger at Adam. "You think you’re some big shot now?"
Adam remained calm, almost amused.
"I never refused you," he replied casually. "I just didn’t mention when I’d give you the money."
The words were sharp. Deliberate.
Frank slammed his hand against the table with a loud bang, drawing a few glances from nearby guests.
"Don’t forget who you used to be!" he barked, his voice rising with bitterness. "You were nothing but a car repairer once!"
"When did I ever say I wasn’t a car repairer anymore?" Adam said, his voice calm yet edged with something sharp enough to cut. "I still am one... the only difference is that now I stand at a much higher place."
’Why does he always assume people like me don’t change... or worse, don’t deserve to?’
Adam pushed his chair back, the legs scraping softly against the polished floor, and stood up.
"You’ve had too much to drink, Frank," he said, his gaze steady, unflinching. "It would be better if you leave now instead of making a scene."
He paused for just a fraction of a second, his eyes darkening.
"Otherwise... if I have to take action, you’ll truly regret it."
Hearing those words, Frank’s expression twisted, anger flashing across his face as he glared.
His lips parted, ready to retort, but before a single word could escape, Adam had already turned and walked toward the private room’s door.
He opened the door, then paused, his hand still resting on the handle. Slowly, he turned his head, glancing back at Frank.
"The total bill for the dishes on that table comes to ten thousand dollars," he said evenly. "But don’t worry... I won’t ask you to pay a single penny."
A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at his lips, though it carried no warmth.
"After all, you once treated me to a meal worth fifty dollars."
The words hung in the air like a verdict. Frank froze.
His fingers twitched slightly as he stared at the table full of untouched delicacies, the rich scent now turning nauseating. ’Fifty dollars...’
He remained seated, unable to move, as if an invisible weight had pressed him down. Shame crept up his spine, slow and suffocating.
If Adam hadn’t mentioned it... he would have forgotten.
No...he had forgotten.
Back then, when Adam had been desperate, when his daughter’s life hung by a thread, Adam had gone from person to person, his voice hoarse from pleading, his dignity shattered piece by piece. Frank had seen it all.
And he had done nothing. Even though he had the money. Even though he could have helped.
’I just stood there... like it had nothing to do with me.’
Now, the roles had reversed. Adam wasn’t lending him money. Was this... karma?
Frank looked down at the dishes again. The glossy surface of the food reflected the dim light above, but instead of temptation, all he felt was a tightening in his chest. His throat went dry.
Ten thousand dollars’ worth of food... yet he couldn’t bring himself to take even a single bite.
That fifty dollars... It wasn’t even kindness.
It was money he had quietly deducted from Adam’s salary.
His hands trembled slightly as he closed his eyes. ’How shameless was I... just a few minutes ago?’
Meanwhile, Adam walked away, his steps steady, his expression calm, as if a long-standing burden had finally been set down.
But peace didn’t last. In fact, his troubles had only just begun.
Over the next few days, his phone refused to stay silent. The constant buzzing became an unwelcome companion, vibrating against tables, against his pocket, against his very nerves.
More and more people began reaching out.
Old college friends. Former colleagues. Neighbors. Even acquaintances he had only exchanged a few polite words with in passing.
People who barely knew him. Yet all of them had one thing in common. They wanted money.
"Adam, I’m in a bit of trouble... could you lend me a hundred thousand?"