Chapter 17: The Patek Philippe Watch

After hearing Trevor's words, Evie burst into laughter. She then glanced at him tenderly and said, "Trevor, this is a French restaurant; you won't find any rice here."

"Alas, I really don't understand the lives of the wealthy," Trevor sighed, feeling helpless.

"You will soon get used to it," Evie replied. "By the way, I still haven't given you a birthday present!"

With that, she opened her Louis Vuitton handbag and took out a box about the size of her palm. "This is a customized Patek Philippe watch. I hired someone to design it for you. Don't worry, it's not too expensive—only five hundred thousand dollars."

Evie smiled gently and handed him the box.

"Five hundred thousand! And you said it's not expensive? Dear sis, you're scaring me to death!"

Trevor's heart raced, but he remained calm, unwilling to appear inferior to his sister. He opened the box, revealing a delicate wristwatch. This damn thing costs five hundred thousand dollars? Unbelievable! he thought.

After lunch, he rested at the manor before heading home. "Trevor, would you like me to drive you?" Evie asked.

He shook his head. "No, I can go myself. You should get back to work."

Since his newfound wealth, people's attitudes had changed dramatically, leaving him unsure of their true intentions. Maybe you only see people's true colors when you're poor, he mused. He longed for a normal, peaceful life, free from the sycophants attracted by his wealth.

Saying goodbye to his sister, Trevor left Willard Villa and walked toward the commercial street, a place teeming with trendy young people and business executives. He had been self-deprecating in the past, but now he owned all the businesses on that street. "I can't be so self-deprecating anymore. I have to adapt to this wealthy lifestyle!" he declared to himself.

At that moment, he heard a familiar voice. "Trevor! What are you doing here?"

He turned to see several acquaintances—Bessie, Corrie, Bernard, and his cronies—approaching the Kisas Tennis Club.

"Trevor! It's you! Why didn't you reply to my texts?" Bessie seemed angry. She had texted him hours earlier to apologize, but he hadn't responded, and now here he was, wandering the streets.

Trevor awkwardly scratched his head. He hadn't ignored her intentionally; his father had called just as he was about to reply. Besides, Bessie's anger was feigned. Knowing he'd been upset by the hotel incident, she said, "We're going to play tennis. Why don't you join us?"

But Bernard sneered, "Miss Taylor, a loser like him doesn't deserve to play with us."

Corrie remained silent, but her contempt was evident. She clearly wanted nothing to do with him.

Bessie rolled her eyes. "Enough, Bernard!" She was usually easygoing, but Bernard's insubordination was unacceptable.

Bernard turned to the entrance and shouted, "Grant, here!" Everyone looked toward the man he called.

Grant Norris, a handsome young man in an Armani suit, approached with a warm smile. His eyes lit up upon seeing Bessie. He bowed, saying, "Miss Taylor, I've already booked the courts. We can go in now."

Bessie smiled politely and nodded. They all followed Grant into the tennis club.