The Unshackled King (by David Wu) novel Chapter 107

He found a parking spot and stepped out, following Sara as the others pulled up.

Evan led the way, with Chuck and his wife close behind, everyone emerging from their vehicles in quick succession.

Without hesitation, Evan strode into Drizzlewood Retreat, where a waiter immediately approached.

"I have a reservation under Peak Chamber," he announced, presenting the booking details.

"Everything checks out, sir. Right this way," the waiter replied with a practiced smile.

She guided the group to an elevator, which carried them up to a private dining room of undeniable luxury.

The space was richly appointed, centered around a large round table. An adjoining lounge area offered plush seating, a television, and even a karaoke setup.

Drawing back the heavy curtains revealed a breathtaking floor-to-ceiling window, framing a panoramic view of the Tranquil River winding through the city—a vista designed to impress.

Chuck couldn't hide his excitement. He had been to Drizzlewood Retreat before, but a venue this exclusive was a rare treat.

In contrast, Audrey and Sara remained composed.

Sara, in particular, found a seat and began typing away on her phone, already immersed in work messages.

"Mr. and Mrs. Stewart, why don't you take the seats by the view? You'll enjoy the scenery," Evan said, gesturing toward the window.

His eyes then shifted to Stefan, his tone tinged with condescension. "Stefan, you should sit there, too. A place like this is probably new for you. Take it all in. As for me," he added with a casual shrug, "I'm fine anywhere. I come here so often that the view has lost its charm."

True to form, Evan was showing off.

The implication was clear: Stefan was only here because of him, while he himself was jaded by such luxury.

"Where I sit makes little difference. We're here for the meal, not the scenery. Besides, I can visit Drizzlewood whenever I like. The view isn't going anywhere," Stefan replied evenly.

Chuck, who had just begun to settle into his chair, shot back to his feet. "Enough, Stefan! This isn't the time for your tall tales. Just the room fee here runs tens of thousands, and the full dinner will easily reach six figures. A reservation like this isn't just about money—it requires connections. And you claim you can come anytime? Ridiculous!" he snapped, his face tightening.

"How interesting. I haven't had the privilege myself. Since you're so familiar, why don't you describe it for us? What makes it so special?" Evan said, his smile not reaching his eyes.

"It's just a private room. Nothing worth fussing over," Stefan answered, lighting a cigarette.

"That's enough, Stefan!" Chuck's voice was sharp, his embarrassment turning to anger. "Know your place. You're in no position to boast in front of Evan. If even he hasn't accessed the Apex Room, what makes you think you can?"

"Mr. Stewart, his circumstances and mine are different. His lack of access doesn't reflect on mine," Stefan replied, crossing his legs and exhaling a slow stream of smoke.

It was a frustrating truth: some people would rather embrace a comfortable lie than accept an inconvenient fact.

Evan's expression cooled, irritation flickering beneath the surface.

The outright dismissal in Stefan's words—as if his own status meant nothing—was galling.

After a moment, Evan's smile returned, edged with challenge. "Mr. Stewart, perhaps he's telling the truth. If he says we can move to the Apex Room, why don't we test it? Let's see if he can actually get us in."