The Class Reunion Is the Start of My Revenge

As congratulations filled the air, I quickly faded into the background.

After a few rounds of drinks and dishes, the hotel manager entered the room. For him, anyone who could book Room 888 was a VIP; I had met him a few times before.

After his routine check-in, he asked, "Are you satisfied with today's dishes?"

I casually remarked, "The 'Lotus Pond Moonlight' dish is a bit oily; the others are fine."

My voice was low but silenced the room instantly. Ethan's expression shifted several times before he finally spoke up, saying, "Manager, don't listen to him; he doesn't know anything about food. You can go about your business; we'll handle it ourselves."

Once the manager left, Ethan forced a smile and tried to keep the atmosphere light while Shawn turned to me and said, "Kyle, what do you mean by that? Do you think you're some kind of food critic now?"

No one else spoke up as if talking to me would be an insult to themselves.

The moment everyone had been waiting for arrived: after eating and drinking their fill, it was time to show off their wives and cars.

Someone proudly declared they had just landed a multi-million-dollar deal.

Just then, my phone rang; it was my fiancée Emma calling.

"What's up, dear?"

"I heard you're dining at Royal Hotel?"

"My friends and I just finished our manicures and were passing by; can we come find you?"

Thinking we were almost done with our meal, I casually replied, "Sure, come on over; we're wrapping up soon."

After hanging up, I felt even more scornful glances directed at me.

A female classmate scoffed and said mockingly, "What an eye-opener! They're coming in a group just to mooch off a meal. They probably waited outside for ages—hilarious!"

Ethan looked at me with disdain in his eyes. "No worries; more tableware won't hurt. Just have the staff bring out some more dishes."

He shook his head as if I were even more pathetic than he had imagined.