ebookslot Chapter 137: Lunch (Bonus - )
Chapter 137: Lunch (Bonus - )
The pristine glass façade of the Meridian Crown gleamed under the midday sun, standing as a premier symbol of old-world luxury and modern corporate status. For decades, the establishment had catered exclusively to the city’s upper crust—dynastic families, high-ranking politicians, and tech barons. It was a place where entry wasn’t merely a matter of having a reservation; it was about the face you brought to the door.
Elias smoothly pulled the sleek, silver Audi R8 into the VIP driveway, the low, predatory rumble of the high-performance V10 engine drawing subtle looks from the valet staff. Jake stepped out, adjusting the lapels of his tailored blazer. The splitting migraine that had blacked him out only fifteen minutes prior had receded into a dull, rhythmic throb behind his left eye, but the lingering physical exhaustion left him craving a quiet meal before he faced the hospital bureaucracy for Aliya’s discharge.
As Elias left the keys with the head valet—who bowed deeply with immediate recognition—Jake walked through the polished brass revolving doors. The grand lobby was a study in marble and quiet wealth, filled with the gentle clink of crystal and low, subdued murmurs from the main dining floor.
Jake walked toward the maître d’ podium, his mind entirely consumed by the bizarre, glowing bullish trend lines he had just witnessed floating over Alice and Elias. He barely glanced at the front desk as he approached.
"Welcome to the Meridian Crown. Do you have a reservation, sir?"
The voice was crisp, formal, and entirely unfamiliar. Jake looked up. Standing behind the elevated podium was a young woman with her hair pulled into a severe, tight bun. Her uniform was immaculate, but her eyes held a sharp, rigid intensity. Her name tag read Chloe. She was clearly a new hire, likely starting her very first shift today, judging by the way she stiffly held herself against the ledger.
"No reservation," Jake said evenly, his voice flat. "Just heading to the private tier."
Chloe looked him up and down, her gaze lingering on his lack of a tie, his casual demeanor, and the slight paleness in his complexion from his recent blackout. Her professional smile faltered, turning into something distinctly cool.
"I’m terribly sorry, sir," she said, her tone dripping with a rehearsed courtesy that felt entirely hollow. "Our private tier is strictly reserved for our premium members and pre-booked executive clients. The main dining room is also fully committed for the afternoon. If you don’t have a reservation and aren’t on the registered VIP index, I cannot grant you access today."
Jake stared at her, a cold prickle of annoyance rising beneath his skin.
Just yesterday, he had walked through these exact doors alongside his uncle, Darius Rivers. The entire staff had practically bent over backward, the manager himself rushing out to escort them to the penthouse suite without a single question asked. The contrast was jarring. Yesterday, because he was flanked by the traditional patriarch of the Rivers legacy, he was treated like royalty. Today, standing on his own two feet without an older man to legitimize his presence, he was being treated like an unwanted drifter trying to sneak into a country club.
It was insulting. More than that, it was a glaring reminder of how the traditional hierarchy of the city operated on superficial optics.
"Check the index again," Jake said, his voice dropping into a quieter, firmer register. He didn’t offer his name. He wanted to see exactly how far this gatekeeping routine went.
Chloe’s jaw tightened. She didn’t touch the digital ledger. Instead, she leaned slightly over the podium, her eyes narrowing as she took in his quiet demeanor. A couple dressed in expensive silk and tailored wool stopped a few feet away, watching the interaction with subtle amusement, their murmurs adding to the weight of the rejection.
"Sir, I know our index by heart," Chloe said, her voice dropping the polite facade entirely, her tone turning sharp and dismissive. "The Meridian Crown isn’t a standard walk-in bistro. We accommodate individuals who actively contribute to the economic foundation of this city. We cannot simply allow anyone to occupy our executive spaces just because they managed to dress up for the afternoon. If you cannot provide a registered corporate account or a member profile, I’m going to have to ask you to step aside and clear the foyer for our actual guests."
From behind him, Elias took a single, heavy step forward, his massive frame instantly casting a shadow over the podium. The bodyguard’s eyes went completely cold, his hand moving slightly toward the button of his suit jacket. The couple nearby instantly stopped talking, sensing the sudden, dangerous shift in the room’s temperature.
Before Elias could say a word, a sharp intake of breath shattered the tension from the side corridor.
"Chloe! What on earth do you think you are doing?"
Marcus, the assistant general manager, came rushing across the marble floor so fast he nearly tripped over his own polished loafers. His face was completely bloodless, white as a sheet, and sweat was already breaking out across his forehead. He practically threw himself between the podium and Jake, shoving Chloe aside with a frantic, trembling sweep of his arm.
"Mr. Rivers!" Marcus gasped, bowing so low his chest nearly touched the podium. His voice was shaking, cracking under the weight of pure, unadulterated panic. "Mr. Rivers, please accept my deepest, most sincere apologies! I am horrified—absolutely horrified by this unspeakable reception!"
Chloe froze, her hands locking onto the edges of her ledger as her breath hitched. Her eyes went wide, darting from the trembling assistant manager to the quiet young man standing before her. "Mr. Marcus? I was just... he didn’t give a name, and he didn’t have a reservation card—"
"Shut your mouth!" Marcus hissed, turning on her with a fierce, quiet rage that made her flinch. "You absolute fool! You think a reservation card matters to the man who holds the title deeds? This is Mr. Jake Rivers!" Marcus turned back to Jake, his hands clasped together in a desperate plea for leniency, his voice practically whimpering. "She started today, sir! Literally three hours ago! She has no idea... she doesn’t know the portfolio structure! Please, Mr. Rivers, do not let her gross incompetence reflect on the standards of the Crown’s dedicated staff!"
The wealthy couple who had been lingering in the foyer suddenly looked deeply uncomfortable. The husband quickly cleared his throat, pulling his wife by the arm as they hurried past the podium, completely abandoning their air of amusement. They recognized the name instantly. Everyone in the financial district did.
Chloe felt the blood completely drain from her face. Her knees went weak, and she had to grip the edge of the marble desk to keep from collapsing. The owner, her mind screamed in a wave of cold terror. She hadn’t just insulted a wealthy guest; she had looked the sole proprietor of the entire Meridian Crown in the eye and told him he couldn’t afford to eat in his own building. The sheer weight of her mistake pressed down on her chest, making it impossible to breathe.
Jake watched Marcus sweat for a long, silent moment. He didn’t look at Chloe at all. Her rudeness was born of ignorance, but the structural elitism of the hotel was something he now owned entirely.
"Make sure the training modules are updated, Marcus," Jake said coldly. "I don’t expect to be cross-examined at my own front door again."
"Never again, sir! It will be rectified immediately, I swear it!" Marcus stammered, wiping his brow with a silk handkerchief. He quickly gestured toward the private elevator bay. "Your exclusive suite is fully prepared, Mr. Rivers. The premium chef has already been notified of your arrival. Please, allow me to escort you personally."
"No need," Jake said, stepping past the podium. "We know the way."
Marcus bowed repeatedly as Jake and Elias walked toward the private elevator, his chest practically heaving with relief that he hadn’t lost his career in a single afternoon.
The private dining suite on the upper tier was a secluded oasis of absolute luxury. A heavy mahogany table sat positioned before a massive floor-to-ceiling glass wall that overlooked the central courtyard’s cascading waterfall. The room was perfectly insulated, completely blocking out the noise of the city below.
The waiter arrived within seconds, placing a bottle of sparkling water on the table with trembling hands before taking their order with absolute deference.
Once the door clicked shut, leaving the suite in total silence, Jake pulled out the heavy leather chair at the head of the table. He looked up at Elias, who was standing rigidly by the door, his eyes scanning the corners of the private room out of pure professional habit.
"Sit down, Elias," Jake said, gesturing to the chair directly across from him. "Eat."
Elias paused, his disciplined expression shifting slightly. "Sir, I am on active duty. My protocols require me to maintain watch while you—"
"There’s no one who can come up here without my permission," Jake interrupted, his voice calm but brook no argument. "You’ve been with me since dawn, and we have a long evening ahead at the hospital. Sit down and have a steak."
Elias studied Jake’s face for a second, recognizing the quiet authority that left no room for refusal. He nodded once, a brief flash of gratitude breaking through his stern features. "Thank you, Mr. Rivers."
As the bodyguard pulled out the chair and sat down, Jake leaned back, his eyes drifting back to the space above Elias’s head. The glowing, translucent bullish trend line was still there, slicing cleanly through the air, completely untouched by the drama in the lobby.
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