C12 Look down on People!

Upon hearing that Rollins refused to leave, Tracy exploded with rage. "Isn't this embarrassing enough for you? You want to stick around and make a spectacle of yourself?"

Rollins offered a sheepish grin. "You've got it all wrong. I need to pick up some groceries to cook dinner."

"Let him go get his ingredients," Hasten chimed in, clearly eager to be rid of him. "It'll save me the headache."

Zoie's face was a mask of displeasure. The scorn from the onlookers had stung, and she harbored resentment towards Rollins.

It was all his fault. If he hadn't insisted on making her try on the jewelry, none of this would have happened!

After watching the trio storm off, Rollins turned back and made his way inside the Green Pavilion, heading straight for Layla.

Layla looked at him with disdain. "What, not satisfied? Looking to cause a scene? Let me tell you, don't bother. No one's ever dared to make trouble in the Green Pavilion."

"I'll take the jade," Rollins said calmly. "Wrap it up for me."

Laughter erupted from the crowd.

"He's still putting on an act..."

"This guy must be living in a fantasy!"

"Stop, you're killing me with laughter!"

Layla's smirk was relentless. "You want to buy it? Can you even afford it? This jade is priced at 13 million. Show me your bank balance first, if you're serious about buying."

Rollins, unfazed, asked, "Is this how you treat customers who are looking to make a purchase?"

Layla shrugged nonchalantly. "We have different ways of treating different kinds of customers. For someone who can afford it, they're a customer. But you? You're just a fool. I've seen plenty like you, thinking they can cause a scene just because they're broke. But I'm telling you, you've picked the wrong place."

Rollins didn't want to stoop to her level. "Call your manager. I need to speak with him."

"Do you think you're worthy of seeing our manager?" Layla retorted with a relaxed air. "I suggest you leave now, or I'll have security escort you out. And don't expect any compensation for injuries—you won't get a dime from us."

Rollins gave her a cold look and pulled out his phone, dialing Flinn's number.

"Morris, I need you at the Green Pavilion. Bring 13 million in cash. I want it here in ten minutes."

"No problem, Young Master. I'm on my way."

Layla's smirk widened, though she tried to conceal her amusement. "You're quite the actor! Thirteen million in cash? I've never seen that much in my life. I'd love to see you prove it. You do realize that withdrawing over a million requires a prior arrangement with the bank, right? You're hilarious!"

Rollins nodded and said, "Since you've never seen so much cash, you're about to get your first look."

The onlookers began to murmur among themselves.

"Being poor isn't the issue; the problem is pretending to be rich."

"Ha, this guy doesn't look like he's got money. There's no way he can cough up 13 million!"

"I just want to see what 13 million in cash looks like!"

Layla couldn't help but smile as she heard the crowd's support. She was eager to see the poor man's next move when he couldn't produce the cash.

Minutes later, in front of the Green Pavilion, several Rolls Royces came to a sudden stop.

Eight bodyguards in black suits stepped out of the leading vehicles, each carrying a black leather case. Their muscles were tense, their expressions stern, and an icy aura surrounded them, even affecting the atmosphere. They completely sealed off a ten-meter radius around the entrance, allowing no one to pass.

Then, a bodyguard opened the door of the third Rolls Royce, and Flinn emerged.

The entire Green Pavilion was instantly abuzz with shock.

Who was this high-profile figure with such an entourage?

Layla's heart skipped a beat. Could it really be the poor man who had called these people?

But she quickly dismissed the thought. How could he possibly know someone so influential?

Flinn strode into the Green Pavilion, and Layla quickly rose to greet him. However, Flinn didn't even glance her way; he headed straight for Rollins.

"Young Master, I've arrived, and I've brought the money," he announced.

With a wave of his hand, the bodyguards entered the Green Pavilion and placed the cases on the floor, opening them to reveal stacks of red cash.

The onlookers gasped in astonishment.

Damn! Everything this guy said was true!

Rollins addressed Flinn, "I'd like to meet the manager of this establishment, but this woman claims I'm not worthy. Can you handle it?"

Flinn nodded, pulled out his phone, and after a brief search, made a call.

Once connected, he barked into the phone, "You bastard, this is Flinn. I'm at the Green Pavilion right now. You have one minute to get out here, or I'll have someone torch this place and break your damn legs!"

Layla turned ashen, her eyes filled with fear as she looked at Flinn.

Was he really that powerful?

Her boss was a well-known figure in Lincrin, someone who commanded respect. Who would dare speak to him like that?

In less than a minute, a middle-aged man came tumbling out of the back office. Upon laying eyes on Flinn, he hurriedly approached, panting, "Mr. Morris, you graced my humble shop with your presence without a word of warning. I would have prepared a proper welcome for you."

Flinn responded with a fierce slap across the man's face, his voice seething with rage, "You think you're too important to see us without an appointment? Our Young Master wanted to meet you, and your employee had the audacity to say he wasn't worthy. Do you have a death wish?"

The man's face registered shock and fear. Flinn was formidable enough, but his Young Master? That was akin to dealing with a deity. Offending Flinn could leave one with nowhere to lay their bones, let alone his Young Master.

His legs shook uncontrollably as he caught sight of Rollins standing beside Flinn. Rollins might have looked unassuming, but his status was clearly extraordinary.

"Young Master," he stammered, his voice trembling with fear, "I deeply apologize for the disrespect."

Then, with a face flushed with anger, he turned to the crowd and bellowed, "Which one of you fools dared to offend the Young Master? Show yourself!"

All eyes immediately turned to Layla, who desperately wished to disappear into the floor.

But before she could retreat, the middle-aged man lunged at her, seizing her collar and delivering a stinging slap to her face. "You dared to offend the Young Master? Are you out of your mind?"

Layla, knocked to the ground, wailed, "Boss, I'm so sorry! I was blind, please, spare me this once!"

"Spare you?" he sneered, gripping her hair tightly. "You're trying to ruin me, aren't you?"

Through tears, Layla pleaded, "Young Master, I realize my mistake. I'll never underestimate anyone again."

Rollins replied coldly, "You brought this upon yourself."

The man then leapt up and stomped on her head, cursing furiously, "You think you have the right to touch the Young Master? I'll end you for this insolence!"

With that final blow, Layla lost consciousness.

The middle-aged man turned to the security guards and ordered, "Get this trash out of my sight. Dump her in the back with the garbage."

"Right away, boss!" the guards replied, promptly lifting the bloodied Layla and carrying her out without a second glance.

Rollins, with an impassive expression, addressed the middle-aged man. "My wife fancies that jade pendant. Wrap it up for me, will you?"

"Absolutely! I'll get on it right away," the man replied, nodding eagerly.

Without another look at the man, Rollins turned to Flinn. "Hold onto this pendant for me. And Zoie's cousin has her engagement tomorrow—arrange some gifts for the Ramirez family. I don't want Zoie to be looked down upon. Bring the pendant with you, but remember, my identity must remain a secret."

"Understood, Young Master," Flinn responded promptly. "Do you need a ride home?"

"No need," Rollins waved off the offer. "I'll walk."