After a moment, Kevin's smile deepened, his tone filled with nostalgia:
"Well I'll be damned, it really is you, you little fatass! Man, look at all that blood on your face. If I hadn't cracked your head open when we were kids and left that scar in the exact same spot, I almost wouldn't have recognized you, Little King of New York."
"Pfft!"
This time, even Amy Frost, who'd been holding it together, couldn't help but burst out laughing.
Marcus had just been claiming that nobody had dared treat him like this since childhood, and in the blink of an eye, Kevin ruthlessly exposed him. Talk about getting slapped in the face!
Marcus was shaking with rage, his face cycling through red, blue, and white, but he was stunned silent. He didn't dare talk back to Kevin, so he could only cast his resentful glare at Ethan again.
Kevin stopped looking at him, as if Marcus was just a pile of trash on the side of the road.
He turned to Sophia and smiled slightly:
"Sophia, clear out all these rubberneckers first. Calm down the other guests and I'll handle the rest."
"Got it."
Sophia responded coolly, not saying much more to Kevin.
Kevin was used to her attitude.
Sophia immediately showed efficient execution and commanded the security guards:
"Clear the crowd now! Listen up—nobody takes photos or videos! Find anyone who's been recording, get their face on camera, and permanently ban them from Marquee! Move it!"
Sophia was nothing if not decisive.
Kevin then slowly walked over to Marcus, who was being held up by security looking like complete shit, that playful smile still on his face but his eyes turning cold:
"Marcus, how the hell did you end up like this? Getting your ass kicked in public doesn't exactly match that big reputation you're always bragging about, does it?"
Marcus felt a chill run down his spine from that stare, but the overwhelming humiliation made him stiffen his neck and say:
"Kevin! It's that little punk! I don't know what backwater he crawled out of, throwing his money around like he's untouchable! As long as he dares show his face in New York again, I'm gonna make him—"
"Untouchable?"
The smile vanished from Kevin's face instantly, his voice turning ice-cold as he cut Marcus off:
"I think YOU'RE the one who thinks he's untouchable, Marcus! Also, drop that act right now. Don't touch this guy. Don't even think about laying a finger on him."
Marcus completely lost it. Fear forgotten, his voice turned shrill:
"Kevin! You can't do this to me! He humiliated me in public and cracked my skull open! I can't just swallow this! If I don't get him back, where the hell will my reputation be in New York? Besides, Kevin, you're not even the owner of this club, so why are you sticking your neck out? We're both locals here—why the hell are you bending over backwards to protect some out-of-town nobody?"
"Nobody?"
Kevin sneered, the contempt in his eyes unmistakable:
"First, let me correct you—he's not a nobody. Second, who I choose to help is none of your goddamn business, Marcus. Third..."
He took a step forward, his powerful presence nearly suffocating Marcus:
"Do you really think you're the prince of New York? Were you the one shouting just now and cursing at Sophia?"
His voice grew colder and colder, like shards of ice:
"For the sake of you following me around when we were kids, take your bleeding ass and get the hell out of here. Not satisfied? Come at me. Let's see if your family's little operation is even qualified to go up against mine."
"Kevin, you—!"
Marcus never dreamed that Kevin wouldn't help him, but would completely turn on him for Ethan and Sophia's sake, even threatening him directly!
He trembled with rage, pointing at Kevin but unable to get out a complete sentence.
His family's business genuinely relied on some of the Kevin family's connections, and in terms of actual strength, they weren't even close to them!
Marcus had been wrong about one thing—Kevin wasn't just a regular at this club. He'd joined as an investor later on and owned equity in Marquee, though few people knew about it.
Marcus glared at Kevin with resentment, then shot Ethan one last vicious look, and finally could only force out a cold snort through his teeth. Like a beaten dog, he left the scene in disgrace, half-pushed along by security.
What face? What revenge? In front of Kevin's absolute power, none of it meant jack shit.
He knew damn well that when it came to family background, he wasn't fit to carry Kevin's shoes.
Kevin watched his fat figure disappear and scoffed:
"Little punk actually thinks he's the prince of New York."
Only then did he turn around, a warm and polished smile back on his face as he walked toward Ethan's booth.
He extended his hand first, his posture humble and full of sincerity:
"Sorry you had to deal with that, man. Let me introduce myself—I'm Kevin, one of the shareholders here at Marquee. You're Ethan, right? Ethan Miller? The guy who booked a table today through Chase's top-tier VIP services? I've heard about you."
He'd just heard the majority shareholder mention this special guest, but he hadn't expected to meet him so soon, or to witness his methods and character firsthand. It made Kevin want to befriend him.
"Ethan Miller."
Ethan stood up and shook his hand calmly, a faint smile on his face, neither humble nor arrogant.
Kevin held Ethan's hand, his eyes full of appreciation and surprise:
"Ethan, you've seriously opened my eyes! Using the bank's top VIP service to book a nightclub table? Damn, I've been involved with this club for years, and this is the first time I've seen someone operate like that! That's genius!"
His tone was relaxed and joking, but there was no malice.
Ethan smiled casually, his tone relaxed but perceptive:
"Isn't VIP service meant to be used? Whether I use it here or somewhere else, it's all the same in the end. If I don't use it, I'd just be letting the bank pocket the difference."
"Haha! Well said! Absolutely right!"
Kevin laughed loudly at that and clapped Ethan hard on the shoulder:
"I like it! No bullshit! I love dealing with people like you who get it! Straight shooter!"
Kevin asked, "What do you say—want to be friends?"
"I'd be happy to."
The two shook hands.
Kevin pulled out his new iPhone and added Ethan on iMessage.
After adding him, Kevin looked at Ethan's extremely young face and asked curiously:
"You look really young, man. Not from New York originally?"
Ethan nodded:
"Nah. NYU starts in a few days—I'm an incoming freshman. Came early to get familiar with the area."
"Damn! A freshman?"
Kevin was genuinely shocked now, looking Ethan up and down with disbelief:
"You're... you're way too young to be this bold, right? Just turned eighteen and you're already playing at this level?"
He subconsciously assumed Ethan was also one of those ultra-rich kids who'd been strictly controlled by their families and had just been let loose after turning eighteen.
Generally, many wealthy heirs had strict family oversight before eighteen.
Ethan smiled and didn't explain, just let him think that. He couldn't exactly explain it—couldn't exactly say he'd been reborn.
"Haha! I like your style, man!"
The more Kevin looked at Ethan, the more he liked him:
"It's too chaotic here tonight, atmosphere's shot. Another time, my treat—let's find somewhere quiet and have a proper drink and chat."
"Don't want to have a drink now before you go?"
Ethan gestured to the bottles on the table.
Kevin's eyes swept over the nearly ten flight attendants at Ethan's table, each with their own appeal, and a knowing smile crossed his face—one every guy understood. He lowered his voice:
"Come on, I'm not gonna third-wheel and ruin your whole... situation here. But hey, listen to some advice from an older brother—youth is great and all, but pace yourself. You want this to last, right? Haha!"
He patted Ethan's chest teasingly.
Ethan laughed and shot back:
"Get lost! Worry about yourself. I'll be fine long after you're broken."
Kevin wasn't offended. He laughed and pulled out his phone, waving it:
"Alright, alright, you're the man! I've got your number and iMessage now. If you run into any trouble in New York, or if you just want someone to drink with, hit me up anytime! Have fun tonight!"
With that, he waved casually, turned to leave, and his tall figure quickly disappeared into the blurred lights and shadows of the club.
There are 90 advance chapters ahead in my Patreon. If you are interested can check it out.
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