Chapter 211 Protection Fee
"Oh my God, that's amazing! Good for you, you lazy bum!" Daniel muttered in disbelief, then turned to Noah. "Noah, you've been living with us for a year now. We've taken care of you, fed you, and given you a roof over your head. Without us, you'd be living on the streets. Now that you're rolling in dough, it's time you started contributing to the Wilson family."
"And how do you propose I do that?" Noah asked, a hint of amusement playing on his lips.
"Simple. From now on, you give me sixty percent of your monthly earnings. If you make ten grand this month, you give me six. The remaining four thousand should be more than enough for your living expenses and gas. What do you say?" Daniel said seriously. "Don't worry, I'll hold onto it for you. I'll save it until you and Lisa have kids. It'll be for their education."
"Give you the money? You're dreaming," Noah replied, looking at Daniel as if he were a fool. "The minute I hand it over, you'll probably blow it all on some harebrained investment scheme."
"You!" Daniel's face flushed crimson, his mustache bristling. Noah had struck a nerve, reminding him of the time he'd lost a half-million dollars on a bad investment. He couldn't believe Noah had the audacity to bring it up.
"You… you're going to be the death of me!" Daniel gasped, clutching his chest and breaking into another coughing fit.
"Dad!" Lisa rushed to his side, gently rubbing his back, then shot Noah a furious glare. She knew Noah was deliberately antagonizing her father.
Noah just grinned and watched them silently.
"By the way, honey, Evelyn mentioned you got into a fight with a customer while you were delivering food," Lisa said hesitantly.
"What? You got into a fight?" Daniel's eyes widened in alarm. "Noah, have you completely lost your mind? Fighting with customers? You'll get fired! Worse, you could go to jail! And don't expect anyone to bail you out!"
"Don't worry, honey. It's all good. I handled it," Noah said with a reassuring smile, ignoring Daniel's outburst.
Hearing this, Lisa relaxed slightly.
After a bit more conversation, Lisa helped Daniel to his room, and Noah went upstairs to shower and sleep.
The following evening, Noah returned to the barbecue restaurant. This time, he noticed a young woman in her early twenties bustling around.
"Mr. Anderson, this is Charlotte Knight. Like me, she's a graduate of the University of Finance," Grace said with a smile. "She used to be a streamer on Facebook Live and owed them thirty grand. But get this, Facebook Live seems to have canceled contracts with all the college girls they signed and even forgiven their debts. It's really weird."
Grace looked perplexed, then continued, "After Charlotte left Facebook Live, I asked her to partner with me here at the restaurant. She'll get a share of the profits at the end of the year."
"Charlotte, this is Mr. Anderson," Grace introduced.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Anderson!" Charlotte approached, shyly glancing at Noah and speaking softly, clearly a little nervous.
Grace had told her about Mr. Anderson – the wealthy man who had tipped a million dollars on Facebook Live.
Noah nodded and smiled. "So, you two are running this place together? One big boss and one little boss."
"Compared to you, Mr. Anderson, we're hardly bosses," Charlotte said, shaking her head, feeling more at ease. Mr. Anderson seemed surprisingly down-to-earth.
After chatting for a few minutes, Noah started helping out around the restaurant.
Around nine o'clock, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the restaurant. A group of about ten burly men, covered in tattoos and sporting menacing expressions, strode in. A bald man led the pack.
The customers eating barbecue glanced nervously at the newcomers, a flicker of fear in their eyes.
"Who's in charge here?" the bald man demanded, his face impassive.
"I am. What can I do for you?" Grace quickly set down the meat she was grilling, wiped her hands, and approached them with a strained smile. "Can I help you with an order?"
"We're not here to eat. We're here to collect the protection money," the bald man said coldly.
"Protection money?" Grace was taken aback.
"I… I wasn't aware we had to pay protection money," Grace stammered, forcing a smile.
"You new here? The previous owner paid protection money to Jack from Orchard Breeze Avenue every month," the bald man said icily.
"Jack?" The customers exchanged uneasy glances.
"Jack's the kingpin of Orchard Breeze Avenue. Nobody messes with him!" one whispered fearfully.
"I heard every business on this street has to pay him protection money, or they can't operate," another added.
"Last month, a restaurant owner didn't pay up on time, and Jack sent three guys to eat there every day. One day, they claimed they found cockroaches in their food. The next day, they complained about the prices. The third day, they dumped a load of salt in their food and then made a huge scene about it being too salty," another chimed in.
"They harassed them so much that the restaurant went out of business. Nobody dared to eat there anymore!" someone said nervously.
Grace's face paled as she listened to the hushed conversations. She hadn't realized the consequences of not paying protection money could be so dire. Her barbecue restaurant had just opened and was doing good business. If she didn't pay, it could be ruined.
"How much is the protection money?" Grace asked cautiously.
"One thousand dollars a month. Pay for the whole year upfront, and we'll give you a discount – ten thousand dollars," the bald man said flatly.
"A thousand dollars?" Grace breathed a sigh of relief.
A thousand dollars a month wasn't a huge amount compared to her current revenue – it was about half a day's takings.
Noah's eyes narrowed. There were probably over a hundred businesses on Orchard Breeze Avenue. If each paid ten thousand dollars a year, Jack was raking in over a million dollars just from protection money.
"Okay, I'll pay for the whole year," Grace said with a tight smile. "Just don't come back after you get the money."
"Don't worry. Once we have the cash, we're gone," the bald man said impassively.
"Great!" Grace reached for her phone to make the transfer.
"Hold on," Noah interrupted.
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