After Becoming Mortal Enemies

Here’s 20,000 dollars...”

In an elegant and luxurious café, a middle-aged woman dressed in expensive, refined clothing slowly pushed a Black Card toward me.

“You want me to leave your son?”

The woman looked at me with disdain. “I’m offering you money to ruin my son’s engagement party with his girlfriend.”

It felt like a slap to the face, waking me up from a dream. “Huh? Why me?”