The whiskey hit hard, burning all the way down—so sharp and fierce, even the regular drinkers couldn’t help but flinch.
“Ms. Fiona, I was out of line tonight. Please accept my apology.”
With his sincere attitude, Fiona didn’t see any reason to push further.
But someone else from the Kidd family clearly disagreed. In his eyes, anyone who bowed their head to Fiona was pathetic—and as far as he was concerned, everyone at this table was guilty.
“If you all want to be Fiona’s lapdogs, go ahead. I’m not playing along.” He slammed his glass down, shattering it across the floor, then stood up and stormed out of the private room.
Fiona waved to the server by the door. “Go tell the guy who just left—the broken glass is ten grand. Make sure he pays before he goes.”
The server, sharp as ever, got the message right away. Fiona’s meaning was clear: the whole bill for the night was going on that guy’s tab; whatever was left over could be credited to his membership card. He’d just have to give his card number the next time he showed up.
No one was surprised. This kind of thing happened all the time.
The Kidd family was barely holding it together, and for their young master to casually blow ten grand—sure, it might not be a huge fortune, but Jane would have to work countless nights to earn that much profit.
“Ms. Jane, here’s the contract from our company. I’ve already signed—just let us know when you want to start.”
“Ms. Jane, this one’s from me. Whenever you need inventory, just give us a call.”
“And here’s mine, Ms. Jane.”
One after another, these old foxes were quick to adapt. They all understood Fiona was backing Jane tonight, so no one dared to get out of line. Each of them handed over their contracts with big smiles, two hands, and plenty of respect.
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