Chapter 177 When Will You Die Already?
Time flew, and before they knew it, another day had passed.
It was 7 o'clock in the evening at the Wisteria Club, a high-end private social establishment in Houston.
This club was a well-known leisure destination for the city's affluent residents.
On the last day of every month, it hosted an exclusive auction for the rich and well-to-do, presenting items like antique paintings and exquisite jewelry. This auction was always eagerly anticipated.
But tonight's auction had an item that was particularly captivating.
A standard villa in the prestigious Platan Heights was going on the block.
To most of Houston's elite, the prestige and sense of accomplishment from acquiring a residence at Platan Heights far surpassed the feeling owning any work of art or relic.
The reasoning was simple.
Houston was, after all, a mid-tier city. The antiques and jewels up for bid rarely exceeded a few million dollars, and were nowhere close to the billion-dollar items found at world-class auctions.
These pieces lacked the highest level of artistic value, and were hardly good enough to show off, which meant the tangible asset of a villa was the more practical trophy.
Ryder Clark finished his day at Maple Real Estate and let Sarah Johnson know he'd be home late due to some urgent business.
He hopped on his electric bike and made his way to the Wisteria Club.
A row of distinguished luxury cars were lined up for parking outside the club.
Each one carried a price tag over a million dollars.
Commonplace Mercedes and BMWs were nowhere in sight.
Ryder was about to park when a sneer came from behind. "Hah! Some people just can't shake off their bad luck, can they? They’re always following around where they're not wanted! What's the point in attending such a high-class auction? How clueless!"
Ryder turned around and saw the Johnson family approaching.
Grandpa Johnson, Matthew, Lawrence, and Abigail Johnson were all dressed to the nines today. It was clear that they had gone to great lengths to get dolled up for the auction.
They were clearly very serious about this event.
Ryder Clark glanced at Abigail Johnson and dryly said, “Why do you care whether I come to the auction or not?”
Abigail Johnson stood her ground and retorted, “Mind your own business! I’ll say what I want! And have you looked around? No one here looks as shabby as you with your beat-up electric scooter. You couldn’t even afford the tires on any of the cars here. Aren't you embarrassed?”
Ryder was used to Abigail’s provocations. He didn’t want to engage with her. Instead, he planned to walk past them to find a place to park his bike.
At that moment, Grandpa Johnson blocked Ryder’s way with his cane and said, “What’s the matter? I haven’t seen you around for a while, and now our little son-in-law doesn't even bother to greet me?”
Ryder replied nonchalantly, “Is there a law that says I have to greet you?”
Grandpa Johnson narrowed his eyes and snorted, “Law or no law, as a junior member of the Johnson family, you should greet me. Even if Sarah Johnson’s branch has gone independent, from a family perspective, she’d still call me Grandpa. You’re her husband; you should say hello, and with a bow, no less. That’s just common courtesy. You get that?”
Behind Grandpa Johnson, Matthew and Lawrence instinctively puffed out their chests, ready to receive Ryder’s respectful greeting.
“You want me to say hello? I’m great at that!” Ryder said, with a smirk curving at the corner of his mouth. He didn’t bow. Instead, he cocked his head up and said sarcastically, “Hey, Grandpa, you’re still kicking, huh? When are you kicking the bucket? I want to make sure I don’t miss the funeral!”
Everyone’s jaws dropped. Was that a "greeting"? It sounded more like a curse!
Naturally, Grandpa Johnson was the first to lose his temper, his voice rising in anger. “What did you just say, you little punk? Say it again, I dare you!”
Ryder Clark didn't mince words and said, "When are you planning to kick the bucket, huh? You're over seventy already. You’re just a waste of air. Hurry up and bite the dust, so I can watch your grandkids claw over your fortune like it’s a soap opera!"
At those words, Grandpa Johnson's chest heaved in silent indignation, at a loss for words.
Matthew and the other two siblings exchanged guilty glances, nervously touching their noses.
Ryder had hit a nerve. They all knew that when Grandpa Johnson passed away, the Johnson heirs would turn the inheritance battle into a spectacle.
Abigail Johnson, however, reacted more swiftly. She quickly stepped forward to steady Granpa Johnson, soothingly saying, “Grams! Don’t waste your energy on this blowhard. It's not worth it! The auction's about to start. Shall we head inside?”
When Matthew saw that, he quickly chimed in. “Calm down, Dad. Let this loser make a fool of himself for now. He'll get his comeuppance eventually. As for you, good things come to good people—you’ll live to a ripe old age!”
At those words, Grandpa Johnson's mood lifted slightly as he threw a cold glare at Ryder. “I'm curious to see how long you can keep up this charade, kid. We'll see who has the last laugh!”
After that, he briskly headed off with his Pcane and the other three, eager to leave Ryder’s presence without sparing him another second.
But after walking some distance, something struck him, and he turned around to address him. “Clark, hold off on your arrogance. Just so you know, not just anyone can get into this auction. It requires a Wisteria Club membership card, which is only available to those who are worth at least ten million! So even if you show up, you won’t get in. Better hop on your clunker of a ride and go home to massage your mother-in-law’s feet!”
With that parting shot, Granpa Johnson walked away satisfied.
Ryder just shook his head and chuckled, unconcerned by his words.
After parking his car, Ryder strolled up to the Wisteria Club's upscale private entrance, humming a tune.
The doorman stopped him and politely aid, “Good evening, sir. May I see your membership card, please?”
Despite their respectful tone, their eyes were filled with scrutiny, and the reason was simple.
As the Johnson family had entered earlier, a flashy young lady had specifically pointed him out to the doormen, cautioning them about a would-be intruder on a scooter known for pilfering.
“Keep an eye on him, and make sure no interlopers slip through.”
After saying that, they pointed directly at Ryder Clark, who was parking his scooter.
That was why the two security guards were so vigilant.
After all, this was an upscale social club for the affluent, and if some crook snuck inside and managed to heist some valuables, those two guards would be in hot water!
Under their watchful eyes, Ryder Clark fished around in his pocket and produced a gold membership card, asking, "Will this do?"
"The... the gold membership card?"
Both guards were so startled they could only gape, their scalps tingling with amazement
But their professional demeanor quickly returned, and they bowed respectfully, saying, "Good evening, sir! With the gold membership, you have direct access to the VIP lounge. Shall I escort you there?"
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
