Chapter 3: The Five-Million-Dollar Face Slap

**3**

Heh. So your business is important, but mine’s just trivial, huh.

Just like haggling on Amazon until you hit a dead end.

If I hadn’t kept my relationship with Nick Warren private, would you even have this chance?

I pursed my lips. "Go ahead then."

[What the hell, Chelsea didn’t get anything from the big boss, now she’s taking it out on Zoe]

[Clearly Zoe is helping smooth things over]

[Uh, doesn’t anyone think what Zoe said was a little off?]

[Exactly, not snapping back on the spot is already classy.]

[The two above are way too sensitive]

[Zoe’s mouth is faster than her brain, but she’s harmless. Everyone in the industry knows it.]

[Chelsea’s just jealous—she can’t get him, but Zoe can, so of course she’s upset.]

[Yeah, just wait for a certain passive-aggressive sister to get slapped in the face.]

[He’s like the Elon Musk of New York, only hotter.]

[Forget The Bachelor, this is the real drama.]

I ignored the barrage, focusing on Zoe’s performance.

Her call was picked up in seconds.

A sharp contrast to mine.

...

Damn it, talk about embarrassing me.

"What’s up?"

Nick Warren’s voice was even colder than before.

"Nick, I’m having coffee out. But my card suddenly got frozen. Could you transfer me some emergency cash?"

She dragged out her words, making her tone all cutesy.

Nick Warren paused. "Got it."

Look at you, new flame right after breaking up. Fine, fine, good for you.

I nearly ground my teeth to keep my expression steady.

The scheming production team didn’t take my screen off the projection. Instead, they put it side by side with Zoe’s. Now both of us were on the big screen, left and right.

Everyone held their breath, waiting for the transfer notification.

[Ding~]

[Your account has received $1,000.00. The other party’s account ending in 7144.]

Zoe’s phone chimed first. She turned back, looking a little smug.

"Chelsea, we have money now."

Just as she finished, another notification popped up.

On my phone, on the big screen—

[Your account has received $5,000,000.00. The other party’s account ending in 2222.]

---

**4**

Account ending 2222.

That’s Nick Warren’s private card.

My stomach dropped straight to my shoes. Five million? I’d never even seen that many zeroes outside of Powerball commercials.

My mind went blank. I opened the full message.

Everyone saw the transfer record.

All the guests and the host gasped, staring at those digits, frozen.

Ten, hundred, thousand, ten thousand, hundred thousand, million, five million...

Nick Warren, are you out of your mind?

Not only did you hang up on me, you transferred five million?

I’ve only seen that much money when visiting my grandparents’ graves—like, in the movies.

Are you trying to send me straight to the afterlife? Make me head of security for the Grim Reaper?

If people online dig this up, with an amount this wild, they’ll think we’re up to something shady.

[Ha, face slap!]

[Both borrowed money, but when Zoe asked, Nick didn’t refuse and transferred right away.]

[America’s Sweetheart x business tycoon, that’s the ship!]

[Ship? Chelsea just got five million in one go. Who cares about Nick’s thousand?]

[God, I can’t even count the zeros anymore.]

[Who transferred to Chelsea? Was it also Nick?]

[No wonder the vibe was weird when they called each other.]

[Chelsea’s face when he hung up—someone meme that ASAP.]

[Lol, Chelsea is probably a kept woman.]

[I remember she’s always had good resources. Makes sense she’s seducing a five-million sugar daddy while also eyeing young, rich Nick...]

[Too bad, Nick doesn’t even look at her~]

[Speechless. Are these comments all bots?]

[Can’t survive without male charm or conspiracy theories?]

[Please, not everyone worships the rich.]

[Those must be all Zoe fans.]

[All I can say is, the fans are just like their idol~]

Right before I drowned in spit, my survival instincts kicked in.

"I forgot, today’s the day my agency settles accounts."

"Sorry for the spectacle."

Zoe shot me a suspicious look, eyes unfriendly.

I returned a cold glare.

Believe it or not, up to you.

If you’ve got guts, go ask Nick Warren yourself.

My palms were sweating. The heat of the spotlight and the rumor mill of the internet made my head spin, but I kept my chin up, channeling every last bit of pageant queen grit I had.

The camera lingered on me a second too long, the whole world waiting for a slip-up. Was this his twisted way of saying he still cared?