The Waitress He Mocked Is Actually The Billionaire CEO

I am rich. Seriously, absurdly rich. Add to that my face that’s always been more than serviceable, and my entire life has been a relentless parade of thirsty suitors and envious whispers. So, when my path was suddenly blocked by a man in an expensive but slightly too-tight suit, my mind went completely blank. I didn’t recognize him. I only registered the fact that he was rude, standing in the middle of a high-end gala without moving. I offered a polite, clipped request: “Excuse me, sir. Could you please step aside?”

1 His brow instantly furrowed into a tight knot. He didn’t just look angry; he looked genuinely incredulous, like I’d just broken a fundamental law of physics. “Are you seriously pretending you don’t know me?” The woman draped over his arm like a drama queen. She covered her mouth, a dramatic performance of shock. “Scarlett Hayes? Is that really you?” Her eyes, predatory and quick, scanned me from head to toe. She zeroed in on the understated, low-key blazer I’d chosen for professional comfort. The smug, gleeful pity in her gaze was impossible to hide. “Oh my God, you actually fell this far? Are you… are you serving tables now?” She stepped closer, dropping her voice just enough to ensure the surrounding circle of guests could still hear. “We’re classmates, aren’t we? If you were in trouble, why didn’t you say anything? This kind of serving-staff work? You, Scarlett? You were the most fragile princess in the whole class.” “If others couldn’t help, you had Ethan Bell. Remember? He was so devoted to you. He worked three months straight just to buy you that gift. He even hurt his hands trying to cook you a meal.” Her voice carried load. A ripple went through the crowd, and dozens of appreciative eyes settled on Ethan. Ugh. There it was—the Hero of Devotion narrative, perfectly executed. A few older, heavy-set executives nearby began to coo. “Not many young men show that kind of devotion anymore. Ethan Bell? Isn’t he the one from Ascend Tech?” “He just landed a major project, I heard. A man of substance. We should get in touch.” The wives and socialites swooned with a collective sigh. “A man that devoted? His current girlfriend must have saved an entire galaxy in a past life.” “Though I wonder, if he was so perfect, what kind of idiot would ever break up with him?” That was the question Chloe was waiting for. She shot a triumphant smirk my way, then pivoted back to the crowd. “Oh, I forgot. Back then, Scarlett threw the necklace Ethan gave her in the trash. She said her dog wouldn’t wear something that cheap. And she poured out the dinner he worked so hard to make, complaining it wasn’t made with imported ingredients.” The air went dead silent. The pitying looks that had been directed at me curdled instantly. After a long, uncomfortable pause, someone finally spoke in a low murmur. “I knew it. No good man like that gets dumped unless the woman is a gold-digging nightmare.” “A waitress? Snuck into a high-society event like this? She’s probably here looking for a ‘special side-gig.’” Finally, Ethan opened his mouth, his voice a low, self-satisfied rasp. “Scarlett Hayes, I told you back then you’d regret it. And now…” He took his time, staring at my basic suit, at the empty hand that had just been steadying a server’s tray. He sneered. “It looks like I didn’t even need to lift a finger. Karma handled the job for me.” A blank finally lifted from my brain. I dug through the forgotten basement of my memories and pulled out the bin file. “You’re… Ethan Bell?” I glanced at the clinging woman beside him. “And Chloe Davis?” Chloe snickered, a high, brittle sound. “I thought you’d keep up the act forever.” “Scarlett, I remember exactly how you humiliated Ethan. How you treated me. You can’t tell me you’re not regretting it now that Ethan is the one who’s made it big?” Regret? Not even close. I simply remembered the persistent, self-appointed Martyr who had stalked me through college, and the jealous hanger-on next to him.

The first time I saw him, I’d just stepped out of my family owned Bentley and saw a commotion outside a fancy restaurant. A guy in a faded, washed-out button-up shirt was yelling, his face beet red. “This one dinner cost how much? That’s my whole month’s allowance! This is robbery!” The manager, looking bored, rolled his eyes. “It’s clearly marked on the menu. Why weren’t you complaining while you were eating it? Pay up, or I call the police for dine-and-dash.” That was Ethan Bell. Next to him, shoulders hunched and eyes wide with manufactured terror, was Chloe Davis. Chloe was clutching his sleeve, sobbing into his arm. “Ethan, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. I just wanted to try some fancy meal, but I didn’t know it would be this expensive…” The manager laughed, a harsh bark. “Too late now, kids. Pay the check! And what kind of college students try to play high-roller when they can’t even afford the bill?” Ethan’s fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were white. He glared at the manager. “I’ll give you fifty now. The rest…” A flash of genuine shame crossed his face. “I’ll find a job. I’ll earn the money and bring it back.” I later found out he was the pride of his small town, a first class college student whose family had sacrificed his sister’s tuition to send him out. Grabbiing that check, and under the worshipful gaze of his hometown friend, Chloe, the guy got a little too big for his britches. Chloe gave him the puppy-dog eyes about the restaurant, and his fragile male pride—that damned pride—made him walk straight in. The manager was about to relent when I cut in. Ethan’s face was the color of a plum, but his spine was ramrod straight. The next second, a pale, manicured hand slid a black card between them. “Count it on me.” Both Ethan and Chloe froze, staring at me. I was completely expressionless. I just wanted to get to my table; they were blocking the entrance. “It’s fine. We’re classmates. This one’s on me.” It should have been a non-event. A mild, passing courtesy. Instead, Ethan yelled after me as I walked away, “What’s your name? I’ll pay you back! I don’t accept charity!” Without turning around, I tossed my name over my shoulder: “Scarlett Hayes.” Honestly, my initial impression of him was… fine. Mostly a decent kid with too much pride. Two months later, he cornered me. He was clutching a wad of cash—the thousand dollars, or whatever the bill was—like it was his entire self-worth. “Here. This is what I owed you. I’m paying you back.” His posture suggested that if I didn’t take the money, I was personally committing a felony against his dignity. I didn’t have a habit of crushing people’s egos. Besides, a debt is a debt. I took the money and asked, “Can you move now? I’m late.” He flinched, his face flushing again. “I… I’m Ethan Bell.” I was running to a lunch with my father, so I waved dismissively. “Ethan Bell. Got it. Thanks.” I genuinely thought he was a one-off extra. But apparently, the man had a spectacular inner monologue. Staring at my retreating back, he suddenly inflated with adrenaline. “Scarlett! I love you! May I ask you out?” I was thunderstruck. Buddy, this is the second time we’ve spoken. I was in a rush, so I didn’t give it a second thought. I turned back and said flatly, “No. I don’t like you.” The incident went exactly as you’d expect. Some people laughed: “A scholarship kid trying to date Hayes? What a joke.” Others pointed fingers at me: “Spoiled bitch. Couldn’t even let him down gently. Public rejection like that is cruel.” Wait, what? He proposed in public, but I was the asshole for rejecting him in public? “I try to do a good deed, and I get branded the villain,” I vented to my girls in a private dining room. Just then, the door slammed open. A pristine, ten-thousand-dollar bottle of Cristal, freshly uncorked for us, flew off the table and shattered on the floor, the golden liquid splashing everywhere. It was Chloe Davis, wearing a server uniform. She pointed a furious finger at me, as if she’d caught me molesting a puppy. “That bottle cost over a grand! Do you know how long Ethan had to wash dishes to pay back that thousand dollars? How dare you waste his hard work like this?” I was stunned. My friends were stunned. The manager, running in, looked utterly bewildered and let out a string of expletives. “Are you out of your mind?!” The manager was having a bad run with his staff. He tolerated Chloe’s constant, muttered complaints about customers—”wasteful trust fund kids,” “slutty clothes,” and so on. But this? This was a new level of insanity. She had destroyed client property and insulted the most valued patron. I gave the manager a cold smile. “Manager, your service here is truly… unique.” Manager’s face went white. He apologized profusely and immediately dragged Chloe out. As she was being hauled away, Chloe screamed, “Am I wrong? Scarlett, don’t think your money makes you superior! Poor people have dignity!” “Ethan worked his hands raw to pay you back! And you just throw your money away! Don’t you have a conscience?” I nodded slowly. “You’re right. I made a mistake.” Chloe instantly lifted her chin, radiating the glow of moral victory. “Good! Then send the bill back and go apologize to Ethan!” I gestured to the puddle of shattered glass and champagne. “I won’t be drinking this one. Whoever broke it pays for it.” Chloe’s triumphant expression dissolved into panic. Then I continued. “And based on that quality, please bring me ten more bottles. I’d like to hear them all clink.” “Ten… what ten?” Chloe stammered, horrified. Another server dragging her out had to remind her. “The wine list, remember? That bottle is two thousand a pop.” Chloe’s legs buckled. She was dragged away. My friend, Maya, stared after her. “Who was that psycho?” I rolled my eyes. “A psycho fangirl.” Of course, I wasn’t actually going to smash ten bottles of champagne. My family’s wealth came with strict discipline against that kind of childish, nouveau-riche arrogance. But when we left, Chloe was standing by the entrance, eyes red-rimmed, acting like a fragile heroine. Seeing me, she bit her lip and choked out a grudging, “I’m sorry, Miss Hayes.” With the ice broken, the tears came fast. “I just… I just felt so bad for Ethan. He’s so smart, he’s meant to do the study, but he was washing dishes for a week to pay you back. He only suffered because of you…” “Because of me, what?” I cut her off, my voice ice cold. She looked startled. She expected tears or a softening of my heart. “He did that menial work for you. How can you spend his money with a clear conscience…” “His money? It was a debt he owed me. A transaction. He owed money, he worked, he paid it back. What does that have to do with me?” I examined my freshly done manicure, completely unconcerned. “I didn’t charge him interest. The ten thousand dollar champagne is my choice. My standard of living is my own. Why should I lower it to filtered tap water just to spare his fragile pride?” “You! You!” Chloe was shaking with rage. “How could Ethan ever like someone as vain and cruel as you?” It was laughable. If you can’t afford to date me, don’t ask me out. Was I supposed to pretend to be poor and subsist on fast food just so his ego could feel satisfied? Who did he think he was? The next day, Ethan showed up, Chloe sobbing dramatically behind him. He was shaking with suppressed anger. “Scarlett. I need to talk to you.” “Can you please drop the complaint against Chloe? She didn’t mean it. That ten thousand… we can’t pay it right now.” A crowd of students was already forming. I didn’t even look up. “No.” Chloe’s crying instantly ratcheted up a notch. “Why? That’s nothing to you! Is it because of me? I truly love you!” Ethan roared, trying to force a confession of love into a financial negotiation. “I don’t love you. And as for her…” I pointed at Chloe. “She broke the glass; she pays the tab. I’m not her mom, and I don’t clean up other people’s messes.” Ethan looked devastated, as if my refusal to be financially exploited was a moral failing. “You are just like everyone else. You look down on people who come from my background.” He grabbed Chloe’s arm to leave, but before walking away, he threw a parting shot at me. “Scarlett Hayes, I will prove to you that I love you. Even if you reject me now, I will never give up!” And that was it. The entire university had its newest campus legend: the tormented, dedicated, lovesick hero from the engineering program. And me? I was the greedy, cold-hearted villainess who used her money to crush a noble woman. Everyone said he loved me “into the grave.” He worked three months to buy me a cheap necklace. “I know you usually wear expensive things, but when I get rich, I’ll buy you the best.” His friends were there, chanting. “Say yes! Say yes!” “Scarlett, do you know what Ethan went through for this necklace? Where will you find a man this devoted?” I was so furious I almost laughed. They wanted a show? Fine. I’ll give them a show. Since they already labeled me as an arrogant bitch, I’d play the part. He liked moral grandstanding in public? I’d like to destroy him. I snatched the cheap chain from his hand and slammed it on the ground, grinding my heel into it. “I said I don’t want it! Are you deaf?” “This thing? My dog wouldn’t wear it. She’d get a rash.” Ethan’s face went corpse-white, as if I’d physically slapped him. The cheering instantly died. The proudest “Village Hope” had never been humiliated like this. But he was persistent. The Martyr narrative was strong with this one. A few days later, he brought a Tupperware container to my dorm. “Scarlett, I know you like expensive food. This is a meal I made for you by myself.” In the summer heat, he deliberately showed his hands—they were covered in fresh blisters. I gave a cold laugh and kicked the container into a nearby trash bin. “What trash are you bringing to me now?” “Unless the ingredients were flown in on a private jet, I’m not eating it.” Chloe popped up instantly. “Can’t you see the burns on his hands? He’s never done dishes at home!” I feigned shock, covering my mouth. “Wow, such a huge sacrifice. He definitely deserves a medal. Should I call the president?” Then my face fall. “Now, how is that my problem?” The real turning point came in our year 3. I was leaving campus when a middle-aged woman grabbed me. She looked me up and down. “You must be Scarlett Hayes? Ethan’s girl? You’re not bad looking, but you dress a little loose. Not proper.” “Once you marry into our family, you’ll need to be a decent wife. Ethan spoils you, but don’t push it.” “Little Chloe told me how wasteful you are. Your family is rich, but so what? You’ll be Ethan’s wife, and his money is yours.” “Oh, where is Ethan? I brought my home-made pickles. This one’s half-finished, but it’s still my wish.” She shoved a greasy, half-full jar of cloudy, home-made pickles into my hands. She kept the other, pristine jar—packed full of pickles — clutched tightly to her chest. I stared at the jar, then up to the clear sky. I zoned out for a while and waved to my driver. “Get this person away from me.” My driver, a former Marine, gently but firmly moved the woman aside. Ethan’s mother started screaming, throwing a fit. “What are you doing? Who is this man? You’re cheating on my son with a thug!” “I’m getting my son! He will break up with you!” Ethan rushed over. Seeing the scene, he immediately went to shield his mother, his face a mask of wounded outrage. “Scarlett, how could you treat my mother like this?” Chloe, sensing her moment, fanned the flames. “Mrs. Bell, see? She doesn’t respect you at all.” Ethan’s mother was practically hopping mad. “Break up! You must break up! Unless she gets on her knees and apologizes to me, she’ll never set foot in a Bell home!” I was beyond done. “Did my being your ‘girlfriend’ ever pass by me for approval?” Ethan stiffened. He looked at me, a silent, pleading expression in his eyes. Don’t embarrass me, Scarlett. Don’t ruin the vibe. His mother, taking my silence for submission, leaned in. “What? Cat got your tongue?” I pulled out my phone and dialed the non-emergency police line. Then I answered her calmly. “Ma’am, you have just publicly slandered and physically accosted me. I have the right to press charges.” “And you can tell your son to stay away from me. If he harasses me again, I’d be happy to see your whole family behind bars.” Chloe gasped. Ethan’s mother was frozen, gaping. I got into the car, leaving them in the chaos. In the rearview mirror, Ethan chased the car for a few steps, roaring my name. “Scarlett Hayes! Aren’t you afraid that one day, karma will get you, and you’ll end up poor like me?!” As he cursed. Five years after graduation. He clawed his way up and became the new tech darling. And me? I was the one attending the gala who casually steadied a tray for a hurried waiter—the CEO of a financial empire. 2 Ethan’s face was a study in toxic, triumphant smugness, like he’d just won the lottery and couldn’t wait to spend it all on revenge. He pulled a business card from his jacket pocket, pinching it between two fingers, and offered it to me like a handout to a beggar. “Take it. Ascend Tech. I’m the CEO now. For old times’ sake, if you’re truly desperate, I can give you a janitorial position.” He paused, a cruel smirk twisting his mouth. “Specifically, cleaning the men’s restroom. How about that? Since you were so high-and-mighty, it’s time you experienced how the other half lives.” Chloe dissolved into peals of fake laughter. “Oh, Ethan! Scarlett is so capable, I’m sure she’ll make that restroom sparkle!”