INSTA MILLIONAIRE

Chapter 45: (You're Not Getting Rid of Me)

[Chapter 45]

The voice came from a table about ten meters away, and the female customers all glared in that direction.

"I think he really believes someone is there," one person said. "Who knows which mental hospital this guy escaped from?"

"No. He's just missing his girlfriend," someone answered. "Look at him. He looks miserable. I'm guessing his girlfriend either died or ran off with another man."

Alex had been ignoring all the surrounding talk. But when they insulted Debbie, he grew angry.

He slapped his hand down on the table and stood up, glaring at the six or seven people sitting nearby. They wore flowery shirts and gold chains, and many of them had tattoos on display.

"Hey, kid, what do you want?" a man asked. "Do you have something you want to say to us?"

Debbie was Alex's sore spot. If anyone insulted her, no matter who they were, he would shut them up. He picked up the bottle of red wine and rushed over to their table, splashing the wine as he ran.

A delicate voice whispered to him. It was Debbie! Alex was stunned. He glanced at the seat opposite his and saw Debbie sitting there quietly. His anger drained away, and he smiled.

"Come back and sit down," she said, gesturing to his chair. "Let's eat."

"Okay." He stared at her face for a moment, and then he put the bottle back on the table and sat down.

The other customers were all astounded. What on earth? Who was he talking to? There was no one across the table from him. Had he gone insane?

The whispers began again.

"He's just pretending to be insane to avoid a beating."

"Well, if that guy dares to come over here, I'll deal with him!"

"Ignore him. Maybe he really did escape from a mental hospital."

Alex didn't even hear what they were saying. He was too busy watching Debbie. She smiled as if she had already forgiven him, and he was happy to just sit there with her.

"Damn it, you splashed wine on my arm, you idiot!" Suddenly, there was a roar in the dining room, followed by the sound of a table and chairs being knocked over. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

As Alex was handing a plate of food to Debbie, she screamed and fell to the ground as if she had been hit by something.

"Debbie, what's wrong?" He rushed to help her, but she disappeared with a "pop".

"Debbie? Debbie!" He shouted in panic, looking around to see where she had gone.

"Sir, calm down." The waiter tried to take him back to his seat.

Alex clutched at the waiter's shirt. "Did you see my girlfriend?" he asked anxiously. "She was just sitting here and then she disappeared. Have you hidden her somewhere?"

"Sir, your girlfriend was never here. It was all just in your imagination. If you don't believe me, then look." The waiter tried his best to explain as he pointed at the empty seat.

Alex looked across the table filled with dishes, including prawns and caviar. But Debbie had been eating them, hadn't she?

Realization struck. He had been imagining everything. "I'm sorry," he whispered to the waiter as he prepared to leave.

"Do you think you can just say sorry and that's it?" a voice shouted. "Hell no. I'm Bruno Franklin, and I'm sure you've heard of me. You've ruined my shirt, so you need to come home with me and wash it by hand. That's the only way this gets settled."