Chapter 183

Not Worth the Price

Ethan Roscente stood before the floor-to-ceiling window.

He came from privilege.

But his success was his own.

Built from the ground up.

He had seen too many people like Deborah Melville and Tyson Richter.

They said pretty words.

But only wanted more money.

Just as expected—

Deborah's eyes darted.

"Since you're being direct, I won't beat around the bush. You hurt my daughter. Compensation is due. We want this much…"

She held up five fingers.

Ethan raised an eyebrow.

Deborah said, "Seven point two million USD. Not a cent less!"

Ethan laughed.

It wasn't anger.

He found it ridiculous.

Tyson was also stunned.

Weren't they agreed on fifty thousand?

How did it become seven million?

Deborah snapped, "What are you laughing at? My daughter's youth and health can't be measured by money!"

Ethan smirked. "Can't be measured? Or simply worthless? Think carefully before you speak."

How many times had Isabella Langley schemed against him?

His lack of retaliation was mercy enough.

And they still dared to ask for money?

Truly desperate.

"What do you mean?" Deborah's face darkened. "How dare you say my daughter is worthless?!"

"Based on her throwing herself at me, getting pregnant by trickery, and then losing the baby herself."

Deborah's eyes shifted.

She clearly knew the truth.

Ethan gave a faint, mocking smile. "You don't seem innocent either."

Deborah exploded. "You heartless bastard! You did wrong and now you blame us? Where we come from, people like you get beaten!"

"You ruined my daughter's virtue and try to shirk responsibility? I won't have it!"

"If you won't pay, then marry her! Take responsibility!"

Ethan's face was expressionless.

This time, he couldn't even be bothered to laugh.

So Isabella's cheapness and greed were inherited.

Deborah didn't notice the coldness in the man's eyes.

She continued, "Seven million for a clean break. We act like it never happened. We'll never bother you again. A good deal, right?"

Ethan said, "First, Isabella isn't worth that price. Second, your threats mean nothing to me."

"Finally—get out! Call security!"

His assistant immediately picked up the phone.

Security arrived quickly.

They threw Deborah and her son out of the building.

"Oof—" Deborah landed on the ground.

"Mom—are you okay?" Tyson hurried to help her up.

He looked disheveled himself.

His hair was a mess.

His T-shirt wrinkled.

Deborah stood up and shouted at the building. "What nonsense! How dare you throw me out?! Just you wait, I'll @#￥%…"

"I'm furious! It was so hard to get in, and that Ethan Roscente wouldn't budge!"

"Mom, what if he doesn't agree? Will we get nothing? It's your fault! Wasn't it fifty thousand? Why seven million? Do you think rich people are stupid?"

"Shut up!" Deborah snorted. "What can fifty thousand do these days? Can't even buy a decent car. Is that all you aspire to?"

"But… if we ask for too much, they won't pay! Better to get the fifty thousand…"

"Fool! Is that your ambition?! Look at this building! Look at Victoria Roscente's house! Look at Ethan's watch! Each is worth more than fifty thousand!"

"They have plenty of money. What's wrong with asking for more? Even if we don't get seven million, we should get at least five hundred thousand!"

Tyson was tempted.

Fifty thousand and five hundred thousand were worlds apart.

"But they ignored us completely. We couldn't even get five dollars, let alone seven million…" Tyson said dejectedly.

But Deborah was confident. "Do you know what the wealthy care about most?"

"What?"

"Reputation! The richer they are, the more they care. No matter what, your sister is the victim. Ethan is at fault. We are in the right! Weren't you recording when we confronted Victoria Roscente at the hotel? Edit it and post it online."

"Netizens love drama, especially involving the rich! Once it blows up, I doubt they can sit still!"

Tyson quickly contacted a friend.

"Mom, you're amazing, thinking of this! Hey, Rat, I need a favor…"

At three in the afternoon.

Tyson posted a video on TikTok.

In the video.

A blurred-face middle-aged woman grabbed a well-dressed lady.

Accusing her son of seduction and abandonment.

Getting her daughter pregnant!

A group of wealthy ladies stood by watching.

The person recording claimed to be the victim's brother, seeking justice for his sister.

The title was: #Witness! Top-tier socialite gets confronted, the truth is…#

Wealthy elite.

Socialite.

Confrontation.

Every keyword hit the gossip sweet spot.

A confrontation wasn't rare.

But the one being confronted was a society matron.

Instantly dramatic.

Tyson spent two thousand on "TikTok+" promotion.

It worked well.

Soon the comments section buzzed.

[So society ladies pull hair too, hehe!]

[Entertaining, love it, more please!]

[One socialite gets confronted, a bunch watch the show, brilliant!]

[Which socialite is this? Is her hair okay? Balding yet?]

[The Roscentes (am I allowed to say that?)]

[Summary: Rich heir got someone pregnant, the girl's mom confronts the scumbag's mother.]

[I just admire this mom. Women are weak, but motherhood makes them strong.]

[Wake up. Clearly the price wasn't right. If the money was enough, why go public?]

[Above comment speaks truth. Going public is just to extort more money. Don't be used.]

The comments grew livelier.

Shares and likes kept climbing.

Tyson hummed triumphantly.

But his joy was short-lived.

A violation notice appeared in the backend.

The video was quickly taken down.

Tyson was dumbfounded.

He grabbed his phone, refreshing constantly. "Where's my video? Where is it?!"