“The Coles? As in Cole Tech, the tech giant conglomerate? She’s in serious trouble now…”
“Three million crowns? There's no way she can pay that even if she sold herself!”
“Poor girl. Her blind date kicks her out over some secretary. Now he even demands money?”
Those whispers boosted Cassey's confidence. Even more so now that Gavin was siding with her.
“That's right! I’ve spent millions maintaining this face over the years! And now you’ve ruined it. Honestly, three million is a bargain! Can a broke little nobody like you even afford that? If not, you might as well start preparing for prison!”
Then her eyes lit up with a twisted idea. She pointed at the scraps of toad still floating in the pot and sneered, “I've figured you can’t afford it. How about this? Eat the rest of that frog soup and get on your knees and beg.”
“Maybe if I’m in a good mood, I’ll even cut you a discount.”
Gavin just stared at me coldly, clearly not planning to stop Cassey. There was a cruel gleam in his eyes, like he was waiting for me to break down.
All eyes in the restaurant were on me—curious, pitying and secretly thrilled. Everyone wanted to see how this poor, no-name photographer would collapse under pressure from the heir to Cole Tech and his rabid little secretary.
What none of them knew was that my grandfather was a decorated war hero who received a first-class military honor in our country. My parents were senior engineers working in classified government tech divisions. Low-profile, yes, but nowhere near powerless. And my family were definitely not one to be looked down on like this.
That simmering anger I’d been swallowing finally boiled over. I calmly reached into my canvas shoulder bag and pulled out my phone.
“All right, I’ll pay,” I said calmly. “But first, you owe me compensation.”
I unlocked my phone, swiped to an encrypted album and tapped open a few photos.
They had been taken just days ago—shots I risked my life for at the edge of the Black Foothills rainforest, during a thunderstorm and landslide alert. Three nearly extinct golden-yellow toads with distinct black star-shaped markings rested quietly on damp moss. Each photo was labeled with their scientific names and tracking numbers.
I looked up, gaze meeting Gavin and Cassey’s squarely as I spoke clearly,
“They are Golden-Spined Mountain Toad. Critically endangered species under national Class One protection. Fewer than fifty are known to exist in the wild.”
“This species has global conservation significance and immense research value. Each individual specimen is valued between 1.2 to 1.8 million crowns.”
My eyes flicked to the pot in front of Cassey—then locked onto Gavin’s visibly paling face.
“Considering I rescued those toads alive during extreme weather and documented them for a national research database, these were living specimens, with high breeding and scientific potential.”
“I’m not asking for much. One and a half million crowns per toad. That’s 4.5 million crowns for all three. So, what's it's gonna be? Cash or card?”
Everyone was stunned silent by the news. Expressions of shock, disbelief and awe were present in the room.
“Four and a half million? For frogs?”
“That’s insane! I don't think a literal solid gold frog would worth that much!”
“Golden-Spined what? Never heard of it. Is this girl making stuff up because she’s desperate?”
Gavin’s face turned stone gray. He slammed a hand on the table and shouted, “Aria Linfield! Are you fucking insane? You think you can extort me with some photos of frogs? Four and a half million? Why not just rob a bank while you’re at it?! You’ve lost your goddamn mind!”
