Love in a billionaires world

"Table 32," the waiter said, handing me a steaming bowl of wings and chicken noodle soup. I hurriedly served it to the owner of the order, then rushed to serve another.

"Ashley!" Leon, one of my coworkers, called out. I turned to him, slightly irritated. "What's up? Why are you calling me?"

"We have a problem," Leon said, his tone laced with nervousness. "What happened? Did Nora slap another customer?" I asked, already knowing the answer. Nora, our blonde and fiery coworker, had a reputation for standing up for herself.

"No, it's worse," Leon said, his eyes wide. "What did she do?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

"She spilled a drink on someone," Leon replied. I raised an eyebrow. "So what? She can apologize."

Leon shook his head. "You don't get it, Ash. She spilled the drink on Ryder Blackwood."

Time seemed to stand still. "What did you just say?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Ryder Blackwood," Leon repeated. I felt a shiver run down my spine. Ryder Blackwood was a legend in LA and Europe – a billionaire playboy with a reputation for getting what he wanted.

"He's going to kill us," I said, already imagining the worst.

I heard a crash from the VIP room, where Ryan might be. My heart skipped a beat. "We should check it out," I said, trying to sound calmer than I felt. Leon's eyes widened. "Are you crazy? No way am I going through there."

I stared at Liam. "Why did you tell me if you knew you weren't going to help her?" I asked, my voice laced with frustration. "Well, I just wanted to inform you," he said. I raised an eyebrow. "We're going to help her," I said firmly.

I groaned in annoyance and dragged Liam along. "Fine, but if anything happens to me, it's on her." I rolled my eyes. "Let's just go."

As we entered the VIP section, a loud female voice assaulted us. "Who do you think you are? Do you know how much this dress costs?" The lady yelled at Nora, who stood with her head bowed. Our manager, Mr. Gibson, tried to calm the situation. "Look, ma'am, we'll pay for the damage. We're sorry."

The lady's red short hair seemed to bristle with indignation. "What insolence. Even if you sold this restaurant, you couldn't afford to pay for this dress."