Framed at My Cousin's Club

I was treating some friends to dinner at the private club my cousin owned. When we wrapped up, I waved over a server. "Just put it on Nick's tab."

The server nodded, but a manager I'd never seen stepped in to block her.

Wearing a smile that never reached her eyes, she said, "Sir, Bosco is a members-only establishment. We don't offer tabs."

I felt a flicker of irritation. "I'm the owner's cousin. Just let him know."

She let out a sharp, mocking laugh and slapped a bill onto the table. Eighty-eight thousand.

Exclusive suite atmosphere maintenance fee, ten thousand. High‑end social network filtration fee, twenty thousand. Spontaneous entertainment ambience enhancement fee, fifteen thousand. And a mess of other miscellaneous charges.

Since when did Nick's place dare to bleed customers dry like this?

"What's wrong? Can't pay and now you're trying to name‑drop?" She looked me up and down with an arrogant tilt of her chin. "I've seen plenty of our boss's relatives. Not one of them is as broke, pretentious, and shameless as you."

Right in front of her, I dialed Nick and put the call on speaker.

"Ten minutes," I said. "Make sure she disappears from my sight. Otherwise, I'm revoking your authorization for this club."

On the other end of the line, my cousin Nick Elton's voice carried a trace of panic. "Jeff, what's going on? Is there some kind of misunderstanding?"

"Misunderstanding?" I glanced at the manager named Tina Jordan beside me. She had her arms crossed, a cold smirk playing on her face, clearly enjoying the show. "Ask your manager what she did to me."

Nick and Tina started talking over the phone, her voice threaded with contemptuous excuses.

"Jeff, Tina was just following the rules… don't make things difficult for her. Dinner's on me—"

"Nick," I cut him off, "I didn't call to get a free meal. I called to let you know you need to deal with your staff."

Tina seemed to draw confidence from him, planning to snatch the phone right out of my hand.

"Sir," she said, her tone equal parts arrogant and certain, "my boss is kind-hearted and won't hold this against you. But the rules at Bosco can't be broken. Either you settle the bill now, or we'll have to ask you to calm down in the security room."

A few friends around us exchanged awkward glances, their faces betraying their embarrassment.

I had invited a few key industry partners tonight, hoping to show them the best of my cousin's club. Instead, my own dignity was being trampled first.

"Fine." I hung up and looked at Tina. "I'll pay the bill."

Her smirk deepened, triumphant, as if she had just won a battle.

Soon, Nick hurried over, a smile of apology plastered across his face, though his eyes darted nervously.

"Jeff, I'm sorry. Tina's new… she doesn't know better." He said it as he looped an arm around her waist, his posture intimate.

Tina wrapped her arm around his, addressing me not so much with an apology as with a declaration of territory.

"Nick is kind-hearted, but you can't take advantage of your relationship with him to run wild here. Bosco is Nick's labor of love—it's not a place for people like you to bully your way through."

Her words painted her as the heroic protector of both her lover and his business, while I became the shameless troublemaker.

I laughed, though it was more bitter than amused.

Nick's labor of love? Did she even know that this entire Bosco—from the brand to the décor, from the concept to the business model—was entirely my creation? Every single detail came from me.

Nick was merely the executor. Or perhaps, the mascot I had shoved into the spotlight.

Seeing him look at her with a mix of helplessness and indulgence sent a chill through me.

When did my cousin become so utterly clueless?

…

"Since you insist on keeping everything strictly professional, then let's go through this eighty-eight thousand bill in detail," I said. I didn't look at Nick, my gaze locked firmly on Tina.

She hadn't expected me to actually pay, let alone question her, but she maintained that same air of superiority, arms still crossed, smirk intact.