My Blind Date Turned Into a Betrayal

I never finished high school, but somehow, I got into Stanford University and joined a topsecret project team. Six years later, when the project wrapped up, I finally had a chance to breathe for the first time in what felt like forever.

Of course, with their oldschool mindset, my parents figured it was the perfect time for me to find a wife. So, they set me up on a blind date with my first love from high school. We met a few times, and the conversations weren’t terrible.

But then, one day, as we were meeting again, I got cut off by a Lamborghini Aventador worth over $20 million. The driver slammed on the brakes, causing me to rearend them.

I stepped out of my car, and, of course, who else would step out of the Lamborghini but Shane, my high school classmate, and my blind date?

Lyla Quinn with Shane Matthews?

Lyla immediately recognized me, looked at my car, and sneered. "Luke, your parents really have no shame. You’re driving a junky domestic car, and they still dare to set me up with you?"

Shane, always the one to stir the pot, walked over and laughed. "A topnotcher at Oxford, huh? What happened? You used to be so impressive, but now you’re driving a domestic car? Do you even know how much my Lamborghini costs? Can you afford to fix it?"

——

[Hey, Luke, we agreed. See you at noon! xx]

I slid into the back of my Prestige Elite, checked my WhatsApp, and smiled.

The message was from Lyla Quinn, my high school classmate. She went to a local university in Silverstone City and now teaches at an elementary school.

My parents thought she was a great match, so they got her contact info and suggested I reach out.

I remembered Lyla as that sweet girl, always wearing white dresses and bouncing around with a ponytail. Her first love face was impossible to forget.

After adding her on WhatsApp, I checked out her photos.

Even after six years, she still had that innocent, firstlove vibe.

She seemed to think well of me, too and was even surprised I reached out. She took the initiative and asked me to grab dinner.

We met a few times after that, and it was easy to get along.

One time, while we were shopping, she even hooked her little finger around mine, and my heart skipped a beat. I couldn’t help it. I was too busy with work to think about dating, so when someone like Lyla came around, it was easy to get charmed.

I even started thinking that if I married her, maybe I could get her to join me at work.

Today, we had another date planned.

If things went well, we might even start calling this a relationship. With just a month left before my break was over, I wasn’t sure if we’d be talking about marriage anytime soon.

My driver, who also doubled as my bodyguard, noticed me grinning like an idiot and said, "Luke, I gotta remind you, with your job, you don’t meet a lot of beautiful women. Don’t rush it, alright? Take your time. It’s a good thing."

I just grinned back, not saying much. Honestly, I wasn’t great with words anyway.

Andrew Walker, my bodyguard, continued, "And the woman you marry has to go through a political review. Not sure if she’ll pass that."

"Lyla’s a teacher. How could she not pass the review?" I interjected.

I felt a bit irritated by what he said. It seemed like Andrew wasn’t a fan of her.

After a few dates with Lyla, he told me to think it over carefully.

Because of that, I couldn’t help but add, "Lyla’s great. Every time we go out, she saves money for me. She refuses my gifts when we shop, but when she sees something for her students, she buys it without hesitation."

"Alright, alright, I didn’t say anything." Andrew shook his head, chuckling.

Just then, the intercom buzzed. "Andrew, a black sports car is speeding towards you. Be careful!"

And then, I heard the roar of an engine.

A black sports car swerved right in front of us, cutting us off at a sharp angle, and then slammed on the brakes.

Andrew was on high alert, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop in time, and we ended up rearending the car.

The black sports car's door swung open, and the driver and passenger stepped out.

I couldn’t really make out the guy’s face, but the woman in the passenger seat?

I recognized her instantly.

It was Lyla Quinn, my high school classmate, who I’d been thinking about. As I left the car, I saw her approach the guy and link her arm with his.

My stomach sank.

It was a strange, uncomfortable feeling like I was suddenly out of place.

But, despite it all, I got out.

Andrew didn’t want me to, and honestly, this wasn’t exactly the kind of situation where stepping out was the best move.

In his words, the smartest thing would’ve been to hit the gas, crash into them, and let the cops handle it.

But I needed to know...

'What was Lyla up to?'

I might not always be the best with words, but I wasn’t stupid. I could tell the black sports car had intentionally cut me off, probably trying to cause trouble.

And with Lyla in the car, all cozy with this guy, it didn’t take much to see this was all about me. So, I stepped out of the vehicle. As soon as I did, Andrew followed close behind me, his hand subtly sliding toward his gun.

“It’s probably just some rich kid messing with a poor guy. Don’t stress about it,” he said, trying to downplay the situation.

I chuckled and walked toward Lyla, now only a few steps away.

She pressed closer to the guy when she saw me, practically hanging off him.

He stepped forward, too, like we were in some kind of sick show.

Lyla, still snuggled up with him, sneered and said, “Luke, your parents are really shameless! Their son’s driving a cheap domestic car, and they still set me up with you?”

I clenched my fists but forced myself to stay calm.

I locked eyes with her and said, “If you think I’m not good enough, you could’ve just said no. Why drag me out a few times, invite me today, and then pull this stunt?”

“Just bored, wanted to mess with you. What’s the big deal?” she laughed.

Then, she glanced at my car and added, “Sometimes, I have to admire you poor folks. You try to show off but fail miserably. You get a cheap domestic car and even hire a driver. Pathetic.”

It felt like a slap in the face.

It wasn’t even about the car. It was the fact that just a few minutes ago, I’d been telling Andrew how great Lyla was.

Now, she was showing her true colors, looking down at me.

I get it—people like that are everywhere, and I shouldn’t let it get to me.

But to call my Prestige Elite, a symbol of national pride, a “cheap domestic car”?

That was nextlevel arrogance.

It honestly took me off guard. 'Why did I even like her?'

Like Andrew said, maybe I didn’t meet many women, or perhaps I was holding out for too long and got desperate.

I smiled, forced myself to stay cool, and said, “Well, since you’ve already gotten what you wanted, I guess we’re done, right? So, can I go now?”

“Leave?” Lyla laughed, almost enjoying it. “Do you not get it? You rearended me, so now you have to pay for the damages.”

'Still want to keep playing this game?' I smirked inwardly.

I’d been trying to stay lowkey, but sometimes, I just needed to vent. But after thinking it through, I realized it wasn’t worth it.

The place I work at is too secretive.

Getting time off was already a risk, and I didn’t want my actions to cause trouble for the people who had been good to me.

“Alright, I’ll pay for it,” I sighed.

"Can you even afford to pay?" Lyla sneered, clearly enjoying herself. "You, a country bumpkin, probably don’t even know what kind of car this is, huh?"

She kept mocking me, and I could feel my patience wearing thin.

That’s when the guy finally spoke up. He pointed at himself with a smug look and said, "Luke, don’t you recognize me?"

I stared at him, genuinely confused. "Who are you?"

The guy was overweight, greasy, and didn’t look familiar at all. "I’m Shane!"

'Shane, Matthews?'

"Oh, yeah, now I remember. Your father’s in real estate," I said, nodding.

His family was one of the wealthiest in my high school, but we never really interacted. I was always buried in my books, while he was practically never at school.

Shane stepped closer, smirking. "University top scorer, huh? How’s that going for you now? You used to be so impressive, but now you’re driving a domestic car? Do you even know how much my Lamborghini costs? Can you even afford to cover it?"

"Over $20 million, right?" I replied casually, almost like I was talking about the price of a used bike.

He laughed. "From the sound of it, can you even afford to pay for it?"

I smiled dryly.

"Call the insurance, call the traffic cops, whatever works. Let them assess the damage. I’ll pay whatever it costs, not a penny less," I added, trying to keep my cool.

But Shane just sneered again. "I don’t settle for broken stuff. You’re gonna replace it with a brandnew one."

'Was he really this ignorant of the law, or was he just playing some kind of sick game?'

I looked at him, confused, and said, "You’ve got a phone, right? You can look it up. Check if what you just said is even legal."

He sneered, "I don’t need you to teach me the law. I know it!"

Shane added, "But this is Silverstone City, man. With just one word from me, you’re gonna pay for a new car."

Shane was losing it now, and I could see it.

That’s when I heard the sound of more sports cars roaring to life.

One by one, they pulled up and outstepped a bunch of arrogantlooking men and women.

Shane smiled and said, "Luke, take a good look. Half of Silverstone’s rich kids are here. This is my backup. You? Some poor kid from a poor family? What do you have to compare with me?"

I didn’t even bother looking at those rich brats. 'Why should I?'

They were on a completely different level than me.

"You seem to have a lot of hostility towards me," I said, keeping my cool. "But why? Did I do something to you?"

"You didn’t offend me," Shane replied. "I just barely remembered you."

Then, he slapped Lyla’s face casually and continued, "Even Lyla, I didn’t care much about her. But when I heard you, the former top student, were on a date with her, I just had to come and crush you. Don’t ask me why. I was bored and felt like messing with you. Is that a problem?"

That was the last straw.

I could feel my temper flaring, but Andrew stepped in before I could say anything, gently patting me on the shoulder.

"I know, I’ll stay lowkey," I whispered back.

He reminded me to keep my cool and ensure I didn’t cause any trouble or risk exposing myself.

"Alright," I said, forcing myself to stay calm. "Now that you’ve had your fun, I’ve agreed to pay."

"If you don’t trust me, call the cops. We’ll go through the usual process."

I really didn’t want more trouble.

As someone in research, I knew I had too many eyes on me from overseas. To be honest, I was scared. But the biggest worry was that if something happened to me, it would be a huge loss to the country. I had to think about the bigger picture.

So, I was just trying to avoid any more issues.

But Shane wasn’t done.

He pointed at my nose and said, "Can you afford to pay? If you can’t, don’t worry. I never expected you to actually pay. Anyway, I’m not short on cash."

I narrowed my eyes and asked, "So, what do you want, then?"

Shane smirked, clearly loving every moment of it. "Kneel! Beg me to forgive you, and maybe I’ll let you off the hook."

He shoved Lyla forward, a sick grin spreading across his face. "And I’ll even throw her in for you. Don’t worry, I’ve already paid for her. She’ll satisfy you. Oh, and by the way, I checked the goods. She’s very... supple."

The rich kids around us burst into laughter.

I honestly wanted to ask them, "Is your life so boring that this is funny?"

Is humiliating someone, especially a woman, really something to laugh about?

"I said kneel!" Shane pointed at me like I was some servant. "If you don’t kneel, you’re not leaving here standing!"

A group of people started closing in around us.

It looked like things were about to escalate. This was the last thing I wanted to happen. Because whenever someone tries to make a move on me, the people secretly watching over me would definitely step in.

"Call the police, please. Just don’t cause more trouble," I said, frustration creeping into my voice.

"I’ll call your mom!" Shane yelled, and then, without warning, he threw a punch at me.

I sighed and didn’t even flinch. With a sharp thud, Shane was knocked back into the crowd of rich kids, sending two of them tumbling. He hit the ground hard, bent over, and spat blood.

Andrew’s kick wasn’t just a warning.

It had been a full force. But knowing Andrew, if Shane wasn’t dead, I knew he had held back.

"Go after him!" Shane roared, scrambling to his feet. "Beat him up! As long as you don’t kill him, I’ll take the heat for anything that happens!"

His voice was rageful, but I could tell he wasn’t in control anymore.

Then, out of nowhere, a new group rushed forward. This one wasn’t part of Shane's crew. They’d been hiding in the background, but they stepped in without hesitation when they saw things wouldn’t settle down peacefully.

Before anyone could react, every single one of Shane’s socalled rich kids was on the ground, rolling around and screaming in pain.

Their howls just got louder and louder.

"Let’s go," I said, already heading back to the car.

"Dammit, don’t you dare run!" Shane yelled, pulling out his phone. "You hit me? You’re dead! I’m calling for backup."

The rich kids who had been taken down also pulled out their phones.

Too bad for them, none of them had any signal.

Andrew leaned in, whispering, "Honestly, I wasn’t telling you to stay lowkey earlier because of the situation. I was just trying to say that if someone doesn’t know their place, they need a proper lesson. We can’t lose face for the organization."

I felt a surge of excitement.

"Oh?" I said, turning toward Andrew. "Let them make their calls."

Andrew pulled out a jammingproof phone and tossed it to me. "Use mine. It’s got a signal."

Shane froze briefly, then grabbed the phone and dialed, "I’ve been hit. I’m at Main Street. Send backup, now!"

After finishing the call, he dialed a few more numbers.

Meanwhile, a group of plainclothes officers quietly moved in, dispersing the crowd.

The shops around us shut down. They confiscated the phones of everyone involved. This was all to make sure I wouldn’t get exposed. It wasn’t long before everyone had finished making their calls.

Lyla walked up to me, a smug look plastered across her face. "Luke, you’re done for. Not just you, but your parents and even your relatives—everyone’s finished."

I sneered at her. "Get lost, you slut. Stay the hell away from me. You disgust me."

Lyla raised her hand, clearly ready to slap me.

But before she could, Andrew’s foot connected with her. With a sharp thud, she went flying, crashing to the ground. She spat blood as she hit the pavement.

Maybe she thought my people wouldn’t hit women, but that assumption was quickly corrected.

Forget about women.

Hell, even if a female superhero stood in front of me, ready to throw a punch, Andrew wouldn’t hesitate for a second.

About ten minutes later, a group of people showed up. They looked like society’s rejects. The kind of people you’d call thugs.

The leader was a bald guy holding an iron rod.

Andrew marched right up to Shane and asked, "Shane, is this the guy?"

"Yeah," Shane nodded, his voice low.

The bald guy grinned. "I’ll take care of them right now."

"Hold on a sec!" Shane raised his hand to stop him. "We’ve got more people coming. Let’s wait for everyone, then deal with them all at once. We’ll show them what it means to be crushed."

Half an hour later, hundreds of people gathered around us.

Most of them had been called in by the rich kids. There were thugs, security guards, and even construction workers who looked completely lost, like they had no idea why they were there.

They seemed out of place, just following orders.

Seeing the crowd grow, Shane walked up to me, his jaw clenched. "Luke, you think you can talk back? You should know arrogance needs money and power. In Silverstone, the Matthews family runs everything. We’re at the top. Don’t even talk about making you kneel—we could wipe your entire family off the map if we wanted to."

"So, are your people here?" I asked casually, as if this was just another Tuesday.

Shane raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback. "Aren’t you scared?"

"Why would I be scared?" I shot back without missing a beat.

Shane looked confused. "I gotta know how you have the nerve to act tough with me?"

"Well..." I thought for a second, then said, "Shane, even if you didn’t finish school, you should know one thing: when something’s off, there’s usually something bigger going on. You thought you could push me around, but I’ve been taking down rich brats like you. I’m not backing down in front of your crowd. Instead of wondering where my confidence comes from, maybe you should start asking yourself if I have some power you can’t afford to mess with."

Shane froze, clearly processing what I had just said.

Lyla, who had been hanging in the background, scoffed, stepping forward. "Shane, don’t listen to this guy. His dad’s just a bluecollar worker, and his mom doesn’t even have a job. What power could his family have? We’ve got an army here. You really think he can scare us?"

Shane’s expression darkened.

"Dammit, I almost let you fool me!" he growled.

Then, without hesitation, he raised his hand. "Charge! Just don’t kill them. Go ahead!"

With that, a group of men started shouting and rushing toward us.

The unmistakable sound of mechanical clicks filled the air as everyone around me drew their guns—and not just any guns.

These were handguns with drum magazines, and the clicking sound of them chambering their rounds was loud and clear.

Suddenly, gunshots erupted. The sharp crack of each shot echoed through the street.

The twenty bodyguards around me each fired three shots.

These were blanks, but the noise was enough to send a chill through the crowd. The sound of shell casings hitting the ground followed.

Everyone froze.

People on both sides of the street began emerging. They were carrying rifles and surrounded Shane and his group.

Shane’s eyes went wide in shock. "Yyou... you actually have guns?"

I couldn’t help but smile smugly as I nodded.

Walking over to him, I looked down and said, "Shane, I’ll give you one more chance. Call for backup. Bring the toughest people you know."

"Fine!" He gritted his teeth. "You better not regret this. I’ll show you what power really looks like."

Shane, now fuming, turned to my people. "Hey, listen up! I’m Shane Matthews. My father is David Matthews. Half of Silverstone’s most valuable properties were built by my family. If you pull a gun on me, I can strip you of your uniforms with a single word!"

It was clear Shane was starting to realize something wasn’t right.

Then, another guy stepped forward, his confidence almost palpable. "I’m Jonathan, my dad’s Emerson Grant. The logistics business in Silverstone City? Yeah, that’s all ours."

"I’m Zachary," another guy said, "My dad’s Thomas Holt. We own the catering business here."

"I’m Hailey," the last one added, "My dad’s Gary Vanderbilt, and my mom’s Victoria Smith. The luxury goods market in Silverstone? That’s our turf."

These rich brats clearly had their connections.

According to them, their families practically owned the town—each one had a piece of the pie, monopolizing different industries.

'But honestly, what did that even mean to me? Would I be intimidated?'

Not a chance.

As long as I didn’t want to, these people weren’t even worth my time.

They wrapped up their calls quickly, and all eyes were locked on us.

I turned to Andrew and said, "Set it up."

He nodded and made a quick call. Not long after, luxury cars started pulling up. Middleaged people stepped out, who were clearly the parents of these rich kids.

They all wore serious expressions, but I could see the worry in their eyes as they walked toward us. They didn’t dare come too close, standing on opposite sides of the street, leaving a clear path between us.

Then, a car with the plate number GFU 1708 pulled up.

A middleaged man in a business jacket got out.

When Lyla saw him, her eyes lit up. "Shane, you’re amazing! You even brought in Silverstone’s top boss!"

Shane paused briefly, soaking in the praise, then smiled smugly. "Oh, it’s just a small thing."

He turned to me, grinning. "Luke, still feeling arrogant? Our parents are here, and the big shot from Silverstone’s shows up. This is our power. You get it yet?"

At that moment, the Mayor of Silverstone City walked up to me.

He gave the rich kids a long, hard look, then turned to me. His expression softened, and he gave a slight bow. "Luke Carson, I messed up. I’m sorry for putting you in harm’s way."