Chapter 442


    Mandy’s head was throbbing, and she couldn’t fathom how just stepping out of the restroom could lead


    to such a mess


    N?velDrama.Org ? 2024.


    She couldn’t let her high society friends get embarrassed over this debacle. Taking a deep breath.


    Mandy clutched her purse and confronted the restaurant manager with a stern voice, “Is this how you


    treat your customers? Why on earth would I bring my friends here if we hadn’t secured a reservation?”


    She paused for effect, then continued, “I’ve never heard of a restaurant arbitrarily canceling a


    customer’s membership and then kicking them out. Do you really want me to call and lodge a formal


    comint right now?”


    The manager stered on a bureaucratically polite smile, oozing arrogance. “Please, be my guest.”


    Mandy’s face turned a shade of steel, herposure slipping as anger took hold. She massaged her


    temples and was about to unleash a fierce retort, “Do you have any idea who we-”


    But she stopped mid–sentence when she caught sight of Mirabe sitting by the window. Her jaw


    dropped. Wasn’t Mirabe supposed to be waitressing? Why was she sitting


    there?


    A flurry of questions swirled in Mandy’s mind. Then, her gaze shifted to the young man sitting across


    from Mirabe. Although she only saw his profile, he was unmistakably memorable. He was the Davis


    family’s sharp–tongued second son, awyer. She had encountered his biting wit when Summer had


    returned to the Gilbert family fold.


    A sneer escaped Mandy’s lips as she pointed toward Mirabe and said, “Oh, the irony. Your


    establishment would rather cater to posers with empty pockets than to genuine patrons like us.


    Amusing, isn’t it?”


    Following the direction of Mandy’s usatory finger, the manager nced over, took a mere two


    seconds to assess the situation, and then looked back at Mandy with a hint of something else in his


    gaze.


    Mandy sensed mockery in his eyes. Frowning, she demanded, “What’s with that attitude?”


    “You might as well stop wasting time here. Our restaurant will not be serving you in the future. That’s


    final,” the manager said dismissively, then nced back towards Mirabe, thinking about presenting


    the after–dinner fruit. He walked away, leaving Mandy behind.


    Outraged, Mandy no longer cared about appearances. She shouted, “Hold it right there! I demand a


    proper exnation, or this matter is far from over!”


    The manager turned back around, his imposing frame and rugged features casting an


    intimidating aura when devoid of emotion. Mandy flinched under his gaze, instinctively


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    stepping back.


    The manager smiled, his eyes once again settling on Mirabe as he spoke in a tone devoid of warmth,


    “Do you even know who they are?”


    Mandy’s brow furrowed, as she gripped her purse tighter, a sinking feeling that she might not want to


    hear the answer.


    “That’s the owner’s daughter and son,” the manager stated tly, walking away.


    The owner’s daughter and son…


    The words echoed in Mandy’s ears, disbelief etched across her face.


    How’s this possible?


    How could a family living in a run–down neighborhood, driving a beat–up old car, possibly be


    connected to a restaurant under a global top 100 enterprise?


    The manager must’ve been ying some kind of sick joke.