Chapter 7: How did a gigolo pull out 5 million cash just like that?

Tristan just smirked, like he saw all of this coming. “I’ve got it all on video, no backing out now,” he said coolly. Nova was absolutely dumbfounded, not seeing this twist coming at all. She couldn't help but wonder if the gigolo's brain was a bit off. Where would they get that kind of money? She couldn't even scrape together three hundred thousand, let alone three million. Ashton scoffed, "Just don't make any excuses about needing to use the bathroom to sneak off, okay?" Nova took a deep breath, grabbed Tristan's hand, and pulled him to the side near a pillar. "Tristan, are you out of your mind? Why would you take this bet?" Tristan could see the worry in Nova's eyes. He wanted to reassure her, maybe even give her cheek a playful pinch, but he didn't want to mess up her makeup. So, he just whispered back, trying to sound chill, "Trust me, I got this." Selena, watching from a short distance, couldn't help but feel uneasy seeing Tristan so determined. Could it really be that they were about to turn the tables? She leaned on Ashton, expressing her worries. "Ashton, Tristan doesn't seem like just anyone." Fueled by his irritation, Ashton had ignored Tristan's previous actions and demeanor. Remembering some online rumors, he tried to comfort himself, "Some gigolos and male escorts are specially trained to cater to rich women, Tristan probably gets the cash from them." Before Selena could say more, Tristan and Nova, looking relaxed, walked over. "Here they come." As Ashton turned around, he saw two men in suits approaching, each carrying a large suitcase. They walked in sync, bowing respectfully to Tristan. Then, two professional women followed, pushing a cart full of high-end designer bags from Hermès, Chanel, and Louis Vuitton. They also bowed to Tristan. Several of Nova's classmates, quick to spot the rare items that were hard to find in stores, looked on with envy. Maybe Nova really did land a rich, handsome catch. Tristan hadn't expected his assistant to go all out with the arrangements, even securing limited edition designer bags. He affectionately glanced at Nova and casually pointed at the cart. "Nova, just take what you like." "People judge by appearances when you're out and about. Don't let those shallow folks look down on you." Nova was overwhelmed by the display of designer bags. It wasn't just about money; she knew these items were hard to come by, and she needed to be knowledgeable about them for her job. Tristan then told the men, "Open the suitcases." As they opened the suitcases, stacks of cash were revealed. "Here's five million in cash." Everyone was shocked. Five million? It's all about the cash! who else besides bank folks gets to see this much cash and stay chill? Emily was really beating herself up for not snagging Tristan's contact info when she had the chance. And those designer bags? She was dying of envy—she had managed to get just two after a whole lot of hustling. She kept throwing sneaky glares at Nova. Nova couldn't believe what she was seeing. Just the sight of those bags was enough to show how connected Tristan was, but where the heck did he get five million in cash from? It wasn't even five minutes since he started bragging till those suitcases showed up. What's this guy's deal? How does a gigolo come by this kind of dough? As Nova was getting lost in Tristan's close-up, his whisper brought her right back down to earth, "A pal of mine runs a loaning business. I borrowed it from him—you gotta help me return it later." Right as she was getting swept up by Tristan, his words chilled her to the bone. Was he out of his mind? How was she supposed to cough up five million to pay back? But she got it—Tristan was just trying to back her up. They were in too deep now, so she had to go along with it. Even if it was just for show, she was here to watch their faces drop. Nova remembered all too well how aggressive those folks had been just a bit ago. Ashton saw the cart full of designer bags and tried to reassure himself they might be knock-offs. But those suitcases full of fresh bills? Hard to claim they're fake. Still, the bet they had placed was kind of sickening. He couldn't believe so much cash could appear in just a few minutes. Maybe Tristan brought a bunch of fake bills just to make him look bad. "They can't think they can just stage this with some actors and pass off fakes as real," Ashton said. Selena was getting nervous. The four in suits didn't look like frauds. But she didn't dare clarify this with Ashton—worried that he might turn his frustration on her and pin the outcome of the bet on her. After all, she knew better than to stir up trouble when the stakes were this high. Tristan nearly laughed, expecting Ashton to come up with some lame excuse. But accusing them of using fake money? Seriously? Before Tristan could say anything, one of the suited-up guys dashed to the entrance while the other, slipping on white gloves, pulled out a stack of cash from a suitcase. "If you're skeptical, come check them out yourself," he called out. The guy who ran out came back in a flash with a bill counter, sliding the stack of bills into it. The machine hummed away, and the room went quiet. The mood was tense. People had seen face-offs before, but never one shut down this fast. Nobody dared back up Ashton. They all just wanted to vanish, trying to go invisible. Tristan glanced at Ashton, whose face was turning stormy, and taunted, "This cash is legit. If you're still not convinced, feel free to test each bill yourself." "And about those bags, if you still think they're fake, we can always get an expert to check them out."