Chapter 11

No one expected Matthew Clark to speak up. George Bennett was stunned at first, then his eyes widened: “I’m short of—”

He hadn’t finished his sentence when Matthew Clark suddenly leaned a bit toward Ryan Miller, speaking naturally, “Since you’re old friends, why don’t you help him settle the bill?”

Ryan Miller lounged lazily on the sofa, looking completely at ease. Hearing this, he paused for a moment, then waved at the manager and said, almost as if giving alms, “Put it on my tab.”

“You think I need your lousy money? Are you two doing this on purpose?” George Bennett laughed angrily, picking the easy target first. “Matthew Clark, who said you could butt in? Who do you think you are, still acting like the big boss you used to be? Believe it or not, I’ll have you carried out of here on a stretcher tonight!”

Ryan Miller couldn’t stand anyone acting like a big shot in front of him: “Who are you trying to scare…”

“If you really had it in you,” Matthew Clark said calmly, “you wouldn’t have had your leg broken half a year ago.”

As soon as he said this, everyone froze—even George Bennett was suddenly speechless, looking even more shocked than before.

He’d gotten into trouble at another club before, messed with someone he shouldn’t have, and had his leg broken for it. He’d been stuck at home for months and only recently started going out again.

The guy he’d crossed was powerful—so much so that not only he, but even his father, didn’t dare make a fuss and just had to swallow the humiliation.

But he’d gone to the club alone that night, and the incident hadn’t been publicized… How did Matthew Clark know?!

It was an embarrassing story, and if it got out, he’d never be able to show his face again.

George Bennett left in utter disgrace.

William Harris was thoroughly entertained. Once that group of troublemakers had left, he came over, leaned across Ryan Miller, and asked, “Matthew Clark, what’s this story about the broken leg? You have to tell us!”

“It’s nothing much,” Matthew Clark smiled. “He messed with someone he shouldn’t have and got his leg broken.”

“Really? How did I not hear about something this hilarious?!” William Harris was shocked, pulling out his phone to check the group chat. “Did all ninety-nine of my citywide gossip groups die out?!”

Matthew Clark said, “Maybe your informants aren’t well-connected enough.”

“Exactly, all they do is ogle handsome guys all day instead of doing anything useful.” William Harris winked at Matthew Clark while holding his phone. “Matthew Clark ge, you’ve passed our gossip group’s vetting. So, what do you think, interested?”

“Is Ryan Miller in it?” Matthew Clark asked.

Ryan Miller frowned, “What’s it got to do with me?”

William Harris raised his charming eyes, “He thinks we’re too noisy and refuses to join.”

Matthew Clark smiled, “Then I won’t join either.”

Ryan Miller: “……”

William Harris laughed too, winking at him: “Alright, if you ever get interested, just let me know anytime.”

William Harris couldn’t sit still. As soon as the drama ended, he headed straight for the dance floor.

Once things quieted down, Ryan Miller clicked his tongue, not too loudly or softly: “Threatening people with something like that—how childish.”

He’d been ready to fight George Bennett, but who would’ve thought things would end so easily.

“As long as it works,” Matthew Clark said. “The security here is all managed by George Bennett’s dad. If you fought him, you’d be at a disadvantage.”

Just as he finished speaking, a man nearby suddenly approached, bending slightly toward Ryan Miller: “Brother Ran! Thanks for last time. That repair shop you recommended is amazing—they have every part. I thought my car was done for, but I’ve had it for years and really couldn’t bear to lose it.”

Ryan Miller said, “No big deal. Just be more careful when you turn next time. You always take the corners too fast and end up off the track.”

“Alright, I was just trying to drift like you and look cool. Anyway, cheers to you.”

“Don’t try to copy me, you won’t pull it off.” Ryan Miller picked up his glass, clinked it with his friend’s, and downed it in one go.

“Haha, you’re awesome. Oh, and…” The man refilled his own glass, then, reaching past Ryan Miller, raised it to Matthew Clark, “Hello, Brother Man, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Having witnessed everything earlier, the man didn’t expect Matthew Clark to respond. He was about to drink by himself when he felt his glass gently tapped.

“Hello.” Matthew Clark replied naturally, withdrew his glass, and took a small sip.

The man was flattered and quickly finished his drink: “Brother Man, you probably don’t know me. I, uh, saw you at a banquet before.”

“I vaguely remember.” Matthew Clark put down his glass, then asked casually, “You mentioned the track just now, is that…?”

“Oh, you didn’t know? Brother Ran and I recently joined a supercar club. When we’re free, we go for a few laps on a real track. Brother Man, are you interested?”

“Why are you explaining so much to him?” Ryan Miller sat up straight, cutting him off. “Come on, play dice with me.”

“I’m not playing with you. You’d wipe the floor with me.” The man chuckled. “Bro, George Bennett followed you around for so long—didn’t he know how good you are at this? Still dared to challenge you, what a joke.”

Ryan Miller snorted with a laugh, picked up the dice cup and shook it casually, then slammed it on the table: “Don’t chicken out, let’s play a couple rounds.”

Matthew Clark sat to the side, watching him. The nightclub lighting was dim, but it cast just enough light on Ryan Miller’s face to outline his features.