Chapter 15
Katherine
The midday sun poured through the massive, arched skylights of L’Orangerie, the city’s most exclusive rooftop brasserie, casting a flawless, golden aesthetic over the private marble table.
Katherine sat at the head of the spread, entirely and intoxicatingly in her element.
She wore a pristine, cream-colored tailored blazer draped effortlessly over her shoulders, her bouncy blonde hair catching the light perfectly.
Surrounding her were five other fitness influencers—girls with respectable followings, but absolutely none who possessed the sheer, untouchable proximity to wealth that Katherine flaunted.
“Okay, guys, say hi to the live!” Lacey trilled, extending her arm to hold her phone high above the table, a sleek, portable ring light attached to the top.
Lacey was a local spin instructor who had been desperately trying to claw her way up the social ladder for years. Katherine secretly despised her tacky ambition, but keeping a few envious, inferior girls in her orbit was exactly what made Katherine feel like a queen.
Katherine leaned into the frame, offering a radiant, perfectly practiced smile to the thousands of people currently watching Lacey’s live stream.
She posed behind a ridiculous, highly photogenic spread of gold-leaf avocado toast, imported burrata, and a towering, three-tier seafood plateau practically overflowing with oysters.
“We are celebrating Kat’s new brand deal,” Lacey cooed to the camera, panning the lens to capture the expensive champagne buckets. “Living our absolute best lives today, courtesy of the queen herself.”
Katherine took a slow, delicate sip of her mimosa.
Her chest bloomed with absolute, arrogant satisfaction.
This was her reality. She had it all perfectly balanced on the edge of a razor-thin knife, and she was thriving.
She had Sean’s limitless bank accounts funding her glamorous, untouchable lifestyle, and she had the dark, thrilling, feral intensity of David’s body whenever she snapped her manicured fingers.
She was playing two incredibly powerful men, and neither of them had a single clue. She felt invincible.
When the waiter—a discreet, impeccably dressed young man in a stark black vest—approached the table, the high-pitched chatter naturally lulled. He placed the slim, black leather folio softly onto the marble right next to Katherine’s elbow.
The bill was easily over two thousand dollars.
Katherine didn’t even blink. With a casual, practiced flick of her wrist, she reached into her quilted Chanel bag and pulled out Sean’s heavy, titanium Centurion card.
“Oh, look at that,” Lacey giggled, angling her phone so the live stream caught the matte black metal of the ultra-exclusive card. “Must be nice, Kat.”
“Sean insists,” Katherine said, offering a dazzling, entirely dismissive smile to the camera lens. She dropped the heavy card onto the silver tray with a loud, definitive clack. “Put it all on this, please.”
“Right away, Miss,” the waiter murmured, taking the folio and bowing his head before retreating toward the polished mahogany bar.
Katherine leaned back in her plush velvet chair, soaking in the reverent, desperately jealous stares of the girls at the table.
She began spinning a fabricated, highly exaggerated story for the live stream about Sean begging to take her to a private island in the Maldives for the winter, her voice loud, confident, and dripping with privilege.
Five minutes passed.
The waiter returned. He didn’t approach with the receipt and the silver pen. He walked back to the table with a slow, hesitant stiffness, his hands clasped tightly in front of him. He stopped right beside Katherine’s chair, leaning down very close to her ear to keep his voice private.
“I am so sorry, Miss,” the waiter whispered, his tone incredibly tight. “But the card has been declined.”
Katherine’s story died instantly in her throat.
She blinked, her brain completely short-circuiting. The table fell into a sudden, expectant silence. A few feet away, Lacey’s phone was still recording, the red LIVE icon blinking steadily in the corner of the screen.
“Excuse me?” Katherine asked, letting out a short, breathless laugh that sounded entirely hollow. She looked up at the waiter, a flash of genuine, defensive irritation crossing her perfect face. “That’s impossible. Run it again. It’s an unlimited card.”
“I did, Miss. Twice,” the waiter replied, keeping his voice painfully polite, though his eyes darted nervously to the phone recording them. “The terminal is instructing us to retain the card. I’m afraid I have to ask for another form of payment.”
A hot, prickling wave of discomfort washed violently over the back of Katherine’s neck.
She could feel the heavy, suddenly sharp stares of the five girls sitting around the table.
Lacey hadn’t lowered her phone; in fact, she subtly shifted her wrist, making sure Katherine’s suddenly pale face was dead-center in the frame.
The chat on the live stream was already beginning to scroll faster, tiny white text blurring across the screen.
“Fraud protection,” Katherine announced loudly, aiming her voice directly at the camera, forcing a wide, unbothered smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
She let out a dramatic, breathy sigh, rolling her eyes.
“Sean is so paranoid about his accounts. The bank probably flagged it because it’s an unusually large brunch charge. It’s honestly so annoying.”
Her hands were shaking slightly as she dug back into her designer bag.
Her pulse was suddenly hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs.
She bypassed her own personal debit card—which had less than four hundred dollars to its name—and pulled out the Platinum American Express Sean had given her for “emergencies.”
She shoved it into the waiter’s hand, avoiding his eyes. “Just use this one.”
The waiter nodded quickly and practically sprinted away.
Katherine picked up her crystal flute, taking a large, sloppy gulp of her mimosa.
The champagne tasted suddenly sour, like battery acid burning the back of her throat.
She tried to restart the conversation about the Maldives, desperately trying to project her aura of wealth for the thousands of people watching, but the energy at the table had completely, irrevocably shifted.
The girls were exchanging loaded, knowing glances out of the corners of their eyes. The illusion of her limitless royalty had cracked.
Every single second that ticked by felt like an hour. The back of her silk blouse began to stick to her skin with a cold, terrifying sweat. She watched the waiter standing at the POS terminal across the room. She watched him swipe the card. She watched him stare at the screen.
When he turned around and began walking back toward the table, Katherine’s stomach plummeted into a bottomless free-fall.
This time, he didn’t lean in. He just stood there, holding the plastic card out to her with a look of profound, devastating, public pity.
“I’m terribly sorry, Miss,” he said, and this time, he didn’t whisper. The words rang out clearly over the ambient jazz music. “This card has also been declined. Do you have a personal bank card you would like to use?”
The blood completely drained from Katherine’s face. The floor beneath the rooftop restaurant felt like it had simply dropped out from under her. A sudden, violent ringing started in her ears, turning the entire room into a distorted nightmare.
Declined. Both of them.
The silence at the table was no longer awkward; it was suffocating. It was a vicious, predatory quiet.
Katherine stared blankly at the total on the folio sitting on the table.
Five thousand, four hundred and eighty dollars.
She didn’t have that. She didn’t even have a fraction of that to her name.
The sickening, visceral reality of her total financial dependence hit her with the force of a physical blow to the stomach.
She was wearing four thousand dollars worth of clothing, but she couldn’t even afford the half-eaten avocado toast sitting on her plate.
“I...” Katherine stammered, her face flushing a deep, humiliating, ugly crimson. The heat radiating from her skin was unbearable.
“Oh my god,” Lacey said softly. She didn’t put the phone down.
The chat on the screen was a blur of mocking emojis and brutal comments.
Lacey’s perfectly arched eyebrow shot up, a subtle, vicious little smirk playing at the corner of her mouth.
“Is everything okay, Kat? Did the billionaire cut you off?”
The physical humiliation was agonizing. It burned like acid in Katherine’s veins. It was a public execution. Having to beg the girl she openly looked down on to pay for her extravagant lifestyle, in front of an audience of thousands, was the most degrading, agonizing moment of her entire life.
“Yes,” Katherine choked out. Her voice was barely a whisper, completely stripped of its arrogant bravado.
She stared blindly at her lap, her vision blurring with hot, humiliated tears.
“My bank is just... they’re being ridiculous today.
I don’t have another card on me. Can you.
.. can you cover it? I’ll Venmo you later. ”
Lacey let out a patronizing little sigh, finally lowering her phone, the damage already permanently broadcasted to the internet. She pulled out her own card with a smug, victorious smile and handed it to the waiter.
“Don’t worry about it, sweetie,” Lacey said, her voice dripping with fake, sugary sympathy. “We can’t all be rich forever, right?”
Katherine couldn’t breathe. The air in the restaurant felt incredibly thin, completely suffocating her. She abruptly pushed her chair back, the heavy wooden legs scraping harshly against the floor.
“Excuse me,” she gasped, snatching her Chanel bag off the table. “I need to go to the restroom.”