Chapter 3 - Declined
At eight o’clock that night, Trent sat at a corner booth in Chicago's most exclusive steakhouse, Brynn draped over his arm like an expensive scarf. Across from them sat Darlene, sipping a dry martini and complaining loudly about the service.
"That girl always had a sour spirit," Darlene declared, waving her diamond-encrusted hand dismissively. "Good riddance to her. She thought that because she birthed a girl, she deserved a medal. In my day, a woman got back on her feet in three days without whining about stitches."
"Forget about Laurel, Mom," Trent chuckled, swirling his scotch. "She’ll run out of money in forty-eight hours. She’ll come crawling back on her knees, begging me to take care of her and that crying brat. And when she does, she signs the post-nup, or she doesn't get a single cent."
Brynn pouted playfully, running a French-manicured finger down Trent’s chest. "You promised we’d book the private jet to Aspen this weekend, Trent. Can we put the deposit down tonight?"
"Consider it done, babe," Trent smirked, snapping his fingers for the waiter. "Check, please."
The waiter approached deferentially, presenting the bill in an embossed leather folder. The dinner, complete with vintage champagne and dry-aged wagyu, totaled just over four thousand dollars.
Trent pulled out his sleek black Apex executive corporate card—the card he had flaunted for months as proof of his elite executive status. He slid it across the table without looking.
Two minutes later, the waiter returned. His demeanor was polite, but noticeably cooler.
"I’m sorry, Mr. Sterling. The card was declined."
Trent blinked, his smile freezing. "Declined? That's impossible. Run it again. It has a half-million-dollar credit limit."
"I did run it twice, sir. The system returned a hard freeze code: account revoked by parent entity."
Brynn’s eyes narrowed slightly. Darlene scoffed. "Ridiculous incompetence. Trent, use your personal titanium card."
Trent cleared his throat, feeling a prickle of sweat at the nape of his neck. He handed over his personal card.
Another three minutes passed. The restaurant manager walked over, his face rigid. "Mr. Sterling, this card has also been blocked due to suspected unauthorized access. We cannot accept it. Do you have another form of payment?"
Trent’s heart hammered against his ribs. He yanked his phone from his pocket and opened his banking app. A bright red banner flashed across the screen:
*ACCOUNT ACCESS TERMINATED BY CORPORATE COMPLIANCE.*
"Trent?" Brynn’s voice lost its sweet honey tone, turning sharp and shrill. "What is going on? Why are your cards bouncing?"
"I... there must be a glitch with the server," Trent stammered, his face turning an unsightly shade of crimson as the neighboring tables began to turn and stare.
"Well, fix it!" Darlene hissed, looking around frantically. "We aren't common criminals! Do you know who my son is?"
"Ma'am," the manager said flatly, signaling two large security guards near the entrance, "if this bill is not settled immediately, we will be forced to contact the police."
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For the first time in his life, Trent Sterling stood in the middle of a crowded dining room, stripped of his bravado, frantically digging through his pockets for loose cash while Brynn crossed her arms, disgusted, and the whisper of Laurel’s parting words echoed through his mind:
*Make sure you know whose signature is on the documents.*
