His Betrayal, My Reborn Heart

Avery May's POV:

I watched silently as Diego, still ranting and raving, was ultimately escorted out by security. His earlier bravado was now laced with a thread of genuine panic. Kiana, who had been hiding in the background, scurried after him, her face tight with shame and fear.

But the true victims were the expo organizers. They had worked tirelessly to attract investors, and Diego's public tantrum had cast an ugly shadow over the entire event.

Among them was a young woman named Maya, a brilliant computer science major from a low-income background.

She stood beside a neglected booth, tears welling in her eyes. Her project—an AI educational tool for children—had been entirely overlooked in the wake of the commotion. Her fragile, sincere dream seemed to have shattered right then and there.

I walked over to her, a wave of sympathy washing over me. "Are you alright?" I asked softly, my voice gentle.

Maya looked up, her eyes red rimmed. "No, not really," she choked out, "I've poured my heart and soul into this. I really needed that funding. My family... they're all counting on me."

"Now, all anyone is going to remember is Diego's meltdown. Nobody is paying attention to the actual innovation."

I nodded, completely understanding her frustration. "I've reviewed your project," I said, my gaze sweeping over her meticulously written code. "It's genuinely brilliant, Maya. My family's foundation is always on the lookout for promising startups that align with our values."

Maya's eyes widened, a flicker of hope cutting through her tears. "Your family's foundation? The May Foundation?" Her voice dropped to a disbelieving whisper. "Are you saying... you'd consider backing my project?"

"Consider it done," I confirmed with firm certainty, "assuming, of course, that our due diligence verifies everything you've presented. But from what I can see right now, you are exactly the kind of innovator we want to champion." I offered her a warm, encouraging smile. "How much capital do you need to get this off the ground and secure your future?"

Maya hesitated, her eyes dropping to the floor. "I... I don't know. Maybe enough to hire a small team and rent a modest office space. Fifty thousand dollars would be absolutely life-changing." She looked up, the rekindled hope in her eyes mingled with a trace of anxiety. "I don't want to be greedy."

"Maya," I said, "fifty thousand is a fine start, but to make a real impact, you're going to need more runway. Let's talk about five hundred thousand."

Her jaw dropped. "Five hundred thousand?"

She gasped, fresh tears spilling over her lashes—but this time, they were tears of pure joy and disbelief. She shook her head in sheer shock. "I... I can't even begin to express my gratitude, Ms. May. I will give this everything I have. I promise you, I'll make this project a massive success. I will make you proud."

That evening, after the tech expo wrapped up, our class decided to grab dinner at a popular local diner.

Just then, the bell above the door chimed, and Diego and Kiana walked in.

Looking somewhat disheveled, Diego marched straight over to our table. Without a word of greeting, he pulled up two chairs and casually plopped himself down at the head of the table. Kiana looked wildly uncomfortable as she squeezed in beside him.

"Ah, finally, some real food!" Diego announced, scanning the menu with a condescending sneer. "Though I seriously doubt this place can satisfy my refined palate." He sniffed the air as if catching a foul stench. "The ambiance here is... quaint. But certainly beneath my future status."

Everyone remembered his earlier meltdown. His presence was a glaring nuisance.

He had even tried to disrupt the afternoon robotics competition, claiming his "transcendent intellect was distracting the other competitors."

Later, he had faked an injury, forcing Kiana to forfeit a mini coding challenge. She missed out on a small cash prize, all so he could keep the spotlight firmly fixed on himself.

Right then, fork in hand, he reached over and plunged it into a shared bowl of chili oil noodles, stirring aggressively. Then, he grabbed a handful of salad with his bare fingers and tossed it into the noodles. "This isn't mixed right at all!" he complained. "Who made this garbage?"

Finally, someone spoke up, their tone heavy with exasperation. "Diego, this is a class dinner. We're here to celebrate our projects. We picked this place because it's affordable and the food is good. It's not a Michelin-starred restaurant, but it's what we can afford."

Diego sneered. "Affordable? Good food? Your tastes are as narrow as your ambitions. Soon, I'll be dining at restaurants where the silverware is solid gold and the chefs have Michelin stars."

Emboldened by his rant, Kiana let out a soft laugh and nodded in agreement. "He's right, Ben. You guys don't understand true luxury."

I had had enough.

What little remained of my patience completely evaporated. I quietly pushed my plate away.

"Diego," my voice cut sharply through the chatter. "This is not your private dining room. We're eating family style, and the bill is being split evenly among everyone sitting here. So, since you've decided to crash, I expect you to pay your share."

Diego froze. "My share?" He scoffed, scrambling to recover his composure. "Do you know who I am? I wouldn't be caught dead eating this peasant food."

"Oh, I know exactly who you are," I replied with a cold smile. "You're the student whose scholarship was just revoked, who owes me eighty thousand dollars. And based on that little hot dog incident earlier today, I'm guessing you don't have a single dime to your name."

He stared at me, his face turning beet red. He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. He had nothing to say. He was entirely broke. Slowly, he stood up, dragging Kiana up with him. "Fine! We'll pay! Just you wait! I'll buy this whole damn diner!"

He dragged Kiana toward the cash register.

As they walked away, I noticed something. The gaudy necklace Kiana always wore was missing. She must have pawned it or sold it to fund his earlier escapades, or perhaps just to scrounge up cash for this very dinner.

Realizing this, a dark thrill of satisfaction washed over me. They were truly backed into a corner.

Kiana shot me a venomous glare over her shoulder, her eyes burning with naked hatred. She blamed me entirely for their predicament.

Suddenly, the diner's front doors banged open. Three burly men in poorly fitted suits stormed inside, their faces set in grim, angry lines.

They scanned the room, their eyes locking instantly onto Kiana, who had just returned to the table and gone deathly pale.

"There she is!" one of them barked.