The King Of War Returns (Jaden Rift) novel Chapter 195

Wagyu beef at eight thousand per pound.

Caviar—thirty grand.

Bluefin tuna—nine thousand.

Vane nearly jumped out of his seat. His neck stiffened, eyes wide as if he’d seen a ghost on the menu. “These prices… this ain’t for people like us,” he muttered, his voice rising with panic. “We shouldn’t even be in here. Let’s go. Right now.”

He pushed back from the table like the leather chair had caught fire.

Morix Sable raised a calm hand. “Please, Mr. Verrick, relax. Don’t worry about the prices.” He smiled, smooth and assured, but there was genuine warmth beneath the surface. “How could I possibly let you pay a single cent?”

Vane froze. Nora blinked twice.

Morix continued, voice proud, almost reverent, “Do you understand what it means to have Mr. Rift and his family here tonight? This—this is an honor no amount of money could buy.”

He looked directly at them now. “Mr. and Mrs. Verrick, from today forward, you’ll never pay a dime when you walk into my restaurant. Consider this place your second home. Come whenever you wish. No reservations. No bills. No formalities.”

Vane’s lips parted, but nothing came out. Nora’s eyes bounced from Jaden to Morix, stunned into silence. The two of them looked like they’d just been handed the deed to a palace.

“Did he just say… free? For life?” Vane whispered, almost afraid to believe it.

Nora leaned toward him. “I… I think he did.”

With a sharp nod to one of his floor captains, he said, “Bring them the best. Don’t hold back.”

The staff moved like clockwork. Lobsters the size of a toddler’s arm, sizzling slabs of A5 Wagyu, delicately plated bluefin sashimi, gold leaf desserts—course after course appeared as if conjured. No menus. No hesitation. Just precision and decadence.

Little Mia’s eyes lit up when a tower of handmade ice cream was wheeled toward her, topped with cotton candy and delicate fruit swirls. She gasped. “For me?”

“Yes, princess,” Morix smiled. “And there’s more coming.”

Finally, he turned to the sommelier. “Open the Chateau Lafite. The one from ’82.”

The staff paused. That bottle alone could go for a hundred thousand—if you could find one.