Billionaire Ordered in a Foreign Language to Humiliate the Waitress — Her Reply Left Him Speechless
Chapter 2
The restaurant manager rushed toward the table.
“Mr. Blackwood, are you all right?”
Adrian didn’t answer.
His eyes remained fixed on the pendant.
A small silver circle with a thin line crossing through the center.
Most people would have thought it was an ordinary piece of jewelry.
Adrian knew better.
He had bought it himself.
Twenty-three years ago.
For Claire Morgan.
Back then, Adrian wasn’t yet the billionaire everyone recognized.
He was thirty-one, ambitious, impatient, and convinced that money could repair anything.
Claire had been different.
She didn’t care about his wealth.
She worked at a small bookstore near the university and spent her evenings studying languages. She could switch between English, French, Spanish, and Italian with astonishing ease.
Adrian had fallen in love with her.
But his father hated the relationship.
To the Blackwood family, Claire wasn’t good enough.
She came from an ordinary family.
No political connections.
No wealth.
No powerful surname.
And Adrian’s father had made his position very clear.
“Marry her, and you’ll lose everything.”
Adrian had been too young to understand what that meant.
He thought his father was bluffing.
Then Claire disappeared.
One night, Adrian received a message telling him she had left the city voluntarily.
He believed it.
He hated her for leaving.
And that hatred became the fuel that drove him into business.
Twenty-three years later, Adrian had everything.
Money.
Companies.
Private jets.
Properties across three countries.
But he had never found Claire.
Until now.
“What’s your mother’s full name?” he asked.
The waitress stared at him.
“Why?”
“Please.”
Something in his voice had changed.
The arrogant billionaire was gone.
The woman studied him carefully.
“Claire Elise Morgan.”
Adrian closed his eyes.
His heart pounded.
The manager looked confused.
“Mr. Blackwood?”
Adrian stood.
“What is your name?”
“Amelia.”
“Amelia what?”
“Amelia Morgan.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Morgan.
The surname he had spent two decades trying to forget.
Adrian looked at the young woman again.
“How old are you?”
Amelia frowned.
“Twenty-eight.”
He stepped backward.
Twenty-eight.
The timing was exact.
His mind raced through old memories.
Claire’s smile.
Claire’s voice.
Claire touching her stomach one evening and telling him she had something important to say.
Then the final argument with his father.
Then the message.
Then silence.
Adrian’s throat tightened.
“Your mother…”
Amelia waited.
“What happened to her?”
“She died when I was seven.”
Adrian stopped breathing.
“How?”
“Car accident.”
“Where?”
“Outside Marseille.”
His eyes widened.
Marseille.
The same place where his father had once told him Claire had fled.
The same place where Adrian had stopped searching.
A cold realization moved through him.
He had spent twenty-three years believing Claire had abandoned him.
What if she hadn’t?
What if someone had wanted him to believe she had?
Adrian looked at Amelia.
“Does your mother ever talk about your father?”
Amelia’s expression hardened.
“She never knew who he was.”
Adrian stared.
“She didn’t?”
“She said he was a man she loved.”
“Did she give you his name?”
“No.”
“Did she ever tell you what happened between them?”
Amelia shook her head.
“She only told me one thing.”
“What?”
Amelia reached for the pendant.
“She said that if I ever met the man who gave me this, I should ask him one question.”
Adrian’s heart stopped.
“What question?”
Amelia looked directly into his eyes.
“Why did you let us believe you were dead?”
