Four years after Alberta Fox dumped me without warning, I ran into her at our class reunion during the Spring Festival.
Once everyone had settled into their seats, someone suggested we play Truth or Dare.
Alberta was the first victim. She drew Truth:
"What's the smartest thing you did in your last relationship?"
Her gaze slid toward me, and a slow smile curved her lips.
"I got my ex to pay off seven hundred thousand dollars in online loans for me. Then, once I'd landed a rich husband, I kicked him to the curb."
The room erupted.
Everyone expected me to storm out. Instead, I just smiled and gestured for the game to continue.
When my turn came, the question shifted:
"Did you ever hide anything from your partner in your last relationship?"
"Yes."
"What was it?"
"I'm actually the son of the richest man in Harbor City."
——
Silence.
Then the private room exploded with laughter.
"Mike, have you been watching too many CEO dramas while delivering takeout? You've gone delusional!"
"Bro, take some advice—quit the act. You haven't even taken off your delivery uniform!"
I glanced down at my yellow Armani casual jacket and the custom AGV helmet sitting beside me.
Fair enough. I do look like a delivery guy.
Before I could respond, Alberta's mocking voice cut through the noise.
"Mike Finch, it's been four years since we broke up. Are you still this desperate for attention?"
"This reunion is about reconnecting—there's no rich or poor here. Maybe try being genuine for once."
I leaned back in my chair, utterly unbothered, and regarded her with cool indifference.
"I am being genuine. I really am the son of the richest man in the city."
"How do you think you even got a reservation at the Emperor Suite in Pinecrest Pavilion? It's because of my connections."
Truth be told, I hadn't planned on coming to this reunion at all.
I had no desire to see Alberta, and I didn't exactly run in the same circles as these former classmates. There was no point forcing it.
But Brett Lane had called me twenty-eight times, swearing Alberta wouldn't show up.
He'd promised no one would flaunt their status—that it was purely about catching up.
Yet here Alberta was, not only present but parading her success for everyone to see.
A gold-digger playing socialite.
Pathetic.
But the self-styled socialite wasn't done with me. She pressed on, relentless:
"Mike Finch, there's a limit to how much you can bullshit. My husband booked this Emperor Suite with his VIP membership. What does that have to do with you?"
"Look at yourself—delivery boy outfit, loafers. If you weren't riding our coattails, would you even be allowed in a place this upscale?"
Her words drew a wave of laughter. The looks people shot me now carried open contempt.
I waved it off, a cold smile playing at my lips.
"So what you're saying is... I should be grateful to be here with you people?"
Alberta scoffed and gestured at the spread on the table.
"Obviously."
"Without me, could you afford this abalone? This lobster? This Moutai?"
I lifted my head slowly, the corner of my mouth curling upward.
"Alberta, you really haven't seen much of the world, have you?"
"This meal? At my house, this is what we feed the help. I wouldn't touch it."
The room burst into another round of mockery.
"Mike, I'm begging you to stop embarrassing yourself. You're bottom-tier—without Alberta, you couldn't even get through the front door!"
"Exactly! If she hadn't specifically asked us to invite you, I wouldn't have bothered calling!"
"Just down three glasses and apologize to her already. At least you'll get some free Moutai out of it!"
The jeers came from every direction.
I didn't hear a single one.
