Rich Heiress Cursed Me as Fish Seller, Then Cried Regretfully

A rich man's daughter went live and, in front of tens of thousands of people, called me a shameless fish seller.

Him? He's just a toad lusting after a swan.

I didn't say a word. I quietly sent her father a message: Mr. Mason, seafood's out of stock.

Three minutes later, the young heiress was on her knees in front of me, crying, begging me to let it go.

I brushed the fish smell off my clothes and said, smiling, "Don't kneel so close. I'd hate to marinate all that designer wear."

I was sitting in my office going over the day's shipping orders when Guy Whitney suddenly messaged me.

"Mr. Swanson, Grayson Mason's daughter is spending big at the Imperial Lounge."

"They've got a live stream going too. Take a look if you have a minute."

Below it was a link to the stream.

The Imperial Lounge was one of the karaoke clubs under me, and I usually left it alone.

Grayson Mason's daughter, Cara Mason. I'd met her twice. Pretty enough, sure.

Grayson had been trying to set us up for a while, but she thought a man who sold fish reeked.

I handed the orders to my assistant and opened the stream.

The streamer's ID was "Tina's Fine Life." She'd just gone on, only a few dozen viewers.

Cara led the group, eight of them, men and women.

Someone in the comments recognized Cara right away. Whoa! Isn't that the Grand Vista Hotel heiress?

It really is her. So pretty, so classy.

The girl holding the phone gave the camera a sweet little smile. "Hey there, everyone, it's your dear Antonia James. And this"

She pulled Cara over and introduced her proudly.

"This one, some of you already recognized her. Grayson Mason's daughter. Cara's treating today."

"You're all in luck today. You get to see how the rich really live."

"Ever heard of untouchable royalty?"

The comments went wild with flattery, and the others in the room whistled and clapped.

Cara didn't waste words. Full heiress attitude.

She had a server bring over a tablet and ordered an eight-thousand-eight-hundred-dollar package.

The eighty-eight-hundred fruit platter and drinks came up fast.

Imported Shine Muscat grapes and cherries arranged in a crystal dish, and a bottle of Mo?t still beaded with condensation chilling in the ice bucket.

Cara picked up a grape and bit into it, then frowned instantly and spat it into the bone dish.

"What is this? Mouth's all dry now."

She picked up her champagne glass, didn't even taste it, and poured it straight into the ice bucket beside her. "This soda water counts as champagne?"

Antonia quickly held the phone in closer. "Cara, what's wrong?"

Cara wiped her fingers with a wet wipe, taking her time, not even lifting her eyes. "Since when did the Imperial Lounge get this cheap? Trying to pass off third-rate junk on me?"

The comments exploded. Holy crap, I've never even seen this stuff!

Insanely rich. My delivery combo isn't so appetizing anymore.

Rich lady, take me with you!

She looked over at the server waiting in the corner and said, not loudly, but clear enough for everyone in the room to hear, "If this is all you've got, I don't see why this place should stay open at all."

A few of the guys and girls beside her chimed in. "Right, you think Cara's some beggar?"

"This fruit platter's worse than the fruit cups by our school gate."

The server kept smiling. "Miss Mason, we do have more expensive packages. You're welcome to order again."

"But this eighty-eight-hundred package has already been served. It can't be refunded."

Cara shot him an impatient look. "What's that supposed to mean? Afraid I can't pay?"

Antonia backed her up. "Everyone knows Cara's allowance is fifty grand a month!"

"Be smart about it. We'll settle it all at once later."

The server didn't dare drag his feet, and handed her the tablet.

Cara swiped her fingertip across and stopped on the last page, where there was a locked icon on the screen.

She looked at the waiter. "What's this one?"

"That's our club's top package. Except with the boss's approval or a diamond membership, we don't sell it to the public."

The crowd packed behind Cara egged her on. "Cara, that one's got to be amazing!"

"Right, Cara. If we weren't tagging along with you, we'd never see it in our lives."

Antonia showed it off to the camera, thrilled. "Have you guys ever seen this? A locked package!!"

The comments flooded with envious faces. The viewer count climbed to two thousand.

Cara tapped it twice and it wouldn't open, so she ordered the waiter around with a lift of her chin. "This one. That's what I want."

"Cara, you're the best!" "Damn! My life is complete!"

The waiter explained, "Miss Mason, you don't have a diamond card, and you don't have the boss's authorization. I'll have to check with the manager. Only the manager knows the code."

A few of the guys gave the waiter a shove. "Then go, quick! Waste our time and see if we don't file a complaint about you."

The call from Guy came through fast. "Mr. Swanson, Boss Mason's daughter wants the Moonlight Package. Do you want me to have a word with her?"

My face went dark. "No. Give it to her. Don't reveal anything about me, and do it all by the club's rules."

"Sign first, then serve. And no discount."

"Understood. I'll go myself." Guy hung up.

I lit a cigarette and kept watching the stream.

A moment later Guy walked into the room with a notice in his hand.

"Miss Mason, the club has its rules. The Moonlight Package is worth 1.28 million. You have to sign before we can serve it to you."

At that number, the whole room went quiet.

The guys who'd been so loud a second ago wilted on the spot.

Antonia's face went pale too.

The comments started jeering. Isn't she a rich girl? What, lost her voice?

Over a million and she doesn't dare sign? She's done.

Streamer! Just let me see what's actually in this package and I'll drop a Carnival on you.

Others piled on, all making empty promises.

Antonia said quietly to Cara, "Cara, it's too expensive. Maybe just forget it?"

Cara looked like she couldn't care less. "It's fine. I'll get someone else to pick up the tab in a bit."

Antonia opened her mouth. "Who, Cara? Who's going to cover a bill over a million for you?"

Cara curled her lip, contemptuous. "Who else but that fish seller. My dad felt sorry for him and threw him an eight-hundred-thousand order."

"Now the toad wants to eat swan meat. He even thinks he can date me."

Antonia laughed behind her hand. "Hahaha, is this the fish seller you said you could smell from a meter away?"

Cara rolled her eyes. "Who else would it be?"

A few of the guys howled with laughter. "Damn, a fish seller wants to date Cara?"

"Is his brain broken? Every single one of us here beats a fish seller."

The comments went wild with mockery too. How long does a fish seller have to save to make a million?

Then again, these hicks are dumb with money. Maybe he really would foot the bill for a rich girl.

The fingers holding my cigarette went still. Grayson Mason, quite the daughter you raised. All manners on the outside.

I'd like to see just how you plan to make me pay.

Guy's face had gone ugly, and even his fingers were trembling, but he held it in.

He only pulled back his smile and asked flatly, "Are you still signing?"

Cara snatched the notice, scrawled a few strokes, and signed her name.

She tossed it on the table. "There. Good enough?"

Guy entered the code and opened the full package.

The whole table went wild snapping photos.

When they were done, Antonia shoved the package menu right up to the camera. "Guys, hurry up and screenshot this! You will never see this again in your life."

The menu unfolded. Romane-Conti Grand Cru 1

Bluefin tuna, premium fatty belly, marbled sashimi flown in same day.

White sturgeon century-aged roe grade.

Eight additional side dishes, plated per guest, ingredients limited daily.

Dedicated server attending the entire meal, no resources shared with the main floor.

That package was one I originally kept for entertaining top-tier partners. Since Cara wanted so badly to try it, I would give her the chance.

After Guy stepped out of the room, the Moonlight package came out dish by dish.

The dedicated server wore white gloves, plating each course one at a time.

Then he held up the bottle in his palm, turned it slowly for everyone to see, and only then poured the wine into the glasses.

Every person at the table stared, glassy-eyed.

Antonia pressed the camera close to the caviar, her voice shaking. "Guys, do you see this? White sturgeon caviar. This one spoonful is a whole month of my salary."

She cupped her hand carefully underneath, terrified a single grain might fall to the floor.

The stream hit ten thousand viewers, and the comments went insane.

Holy crap! Is this really not a filter?

One bite of that costs more than gold!

Where's the big shot who was going to blow cash on the Carnival gift? Come on now, weren't you mocking her for having no money?

Cara leaned back into the soft leather couch, scooped up a spoon of caviar, took a small taste, and let a satisfied look settle on her face.

"That's more like it."

A few of the guys had run out of patience long ago, chopsticks all reaching at once for the bluefin tuna.

One guy with a stud earring crammed his mouth full and mumbled through it, "Cara, this is so damn good! I have never eaten anything this good in my whole life!"

"No kidding," the girl beside him rolled her eyes at him. "It's one point two eight million. You think it's the cheap noodle stand outside school?"

Antonia turned the camera on Cara. "Cara, give the guys your review."

Cara lifted her glass, swirled it lightly, took a sip of the Romane-Conti. "The wine's decent. Fruit's clean enough. But this Imperial Lounge name, tsk, tsk"

She paused, one corner of her mouth curling down. "So tacky."

The whole table burst out laughing.

"Holy crap, Cara, I didn't even notice till you said it. That name really is trashy!"

"Imperial Lounge, ha ha ha, sounds like some eighties gangster flick."

"No idea what country bumpkin came up with that."

The comments piled on. The name really is tacky, but I hear this KTV isn't cheap.

Top three in the whole city.

No kidding, what other KTV keeps caviar on hand at all times?

They ate like a pack of starving ghosts, all manners gone.

Cara set her glass down unhurriedly, pulled her phone out of her bag. "You all take your time, order more if it's not enough. I'll go text that fish seller."

The others ate and couldn't hold back their laughter.

"For a fish seller to land Cara, his ancestors' graves must be smoking good luck."

Antonia's eyes lit up. She shot a close-up of the dishes and raised her voice on purpose.

The stream caught it clear as day. "Cara, are you planning to make that fish seller foot the bill?"

Cara let out a soft laugh. "Mm. Let him."

"Damn, Cara, that's one point two eight million we're talking about!" The guy with the earrings set down his chopsticks, eyes wide. "That fish seller's actually willing?"

Cara lifted her eyelids and looked at him the way you'd look at some country bumpkin who'd never seen the world. "What do you know? Making him pay is me handing him an opportunity."

Antonia jumped in. "Exactly! There's a whole line of people chasing after Cara. Plenty of guys would kill for a chance like this and never get one."

"That fish seller just lucked into it."

Cara gave a faint little smile, warming to it now. "Right? He's always sniffing around my dad trying to score points. Just seeing it makes me sick."

"My dad hands him an eight-hundred-thousand order and he's so thrilled he can't tell which way is up. Isn't he trying to marry into our family? I'm giving him the chance today. He should be thanking me."

Antonia laughed so hard she nearly doubled over, the caviar in her mouth barely staying put.

"Ha ha ha, Cara, you're such a saint. That's brutalmake him drop over a million just to buy a chance, and if it falls through in the end, he'll die of rage."

Cara arched a brow. "What? You think he has a choice?"

"If he pays up right away today, I might still consider it. But if he takes more than three seconds, he can forget about ever getting me to look at him again."

The whole table exploded.

"Holy crap! Cara, you're testing him?"

"That fish seller's probably still down at the market gutting fish. He gets this call, he'll go crazy with joy."

"One point two eight million for a chancenow that's a deal. Pure profit!"

Everyone at the table raised their glasses, cracking up so hard they were falling all over each other.

Antonia announced to the camera, "You heard it, folks! The fish seller's begging to pay the bill. Cara didn't force him at all."

The comments boiled over. Fish seller drops 1.28 million just for one smile from an heiress.

1.28 million for a chance? I'm jealous. Honestly, I look pretty good in a dress too.

Hey fish guy, get moving! Don't keep the rich lady waiting!

Someone started running the numbers: An eight-hundred-thousand order, and he spends 1.28 million to butter up the princessthat's a straight-up loss, buddy!

Someone shot back immediately: What do you know? If he marries her, the whole Mason family is his!

True, true. The fish seller's playing the long game!

Cara glanced at the comments, her brow creasing slightly. "Marry? Him? I can smell the fish stink from a yard away."

"I'm just giving him a chance to show himself off. He'd better not read too much into it."

The comments went wild egging her on: Streamer, streamer. Can you make the call in front of everyone in the room?

We want to see how this eligible bachelor performs.

Streamer, make the call! We'll send you gifts.

Antonia leaned in and asked Cara quietly, "Cara, what do you think? Isn't this a bit too showy?"

Cara didn't care in the slightest. She pulled up her contacts, saved under three words: Fish Seller.

She scanned the room.

"I'll make the call. But every last one of you shuts up."

Antonia pulled everyone back half a step, the music cut off, and the private room was left with only the neon lights flickering.

Cara put on her airs and dialed. My phone rang right on cue.

The cold voice came through. "Imperial Lounge, third floor, room six. You've got ten minutes. Take any longer than that and don't bother coming to see me."

She didn't give me a chance to say a word.

The comments blew up: Damn, so this is how a rich heiress throws her weight around?

She won't even let him get a word in? That fish seller must be losing his mind.

Fish seller's inner monologue: Easy, miss, just let me change into a suit.

The screen filled with ha ha ha and dying of laughter here.

The viewer count shot straight up to twenty thousand.

I stubbed my cigarette out in the ashtray and smiled.

Then I dialed Guy Whitney.