Rachel Whitmore was curled up in her shabby rental, wrapped in two thick quilts.
Her heater was cranked to max—104°F—but the room temperature barely scraped 32°F.
She shivered uncontrollably, feeling the icy air leak in from every crack.
Then she saw it.
The photo Ethan had just sent.
There he was—lounging in silk pajamas, enjoying a perfectly seared steak and a bottle of expensive red wine.
Her eyes widened in disbelief.
They lived in the same building, yet it was like they were in two different worlds.
She couldn't stop staring at the steak.
And that wine—deep crimson, unmistakably French.
She knew the brand.She knew the price.
As a high-class gold digger and full-time white lotus, she had an eye for luxury.The steak was premium A5 wagyu.The wine? Easily $3,000 a bottle.
Meanwhile, she was freezing to death.
She quickly texted him:
"Wow~ Looks delicious 😍 I wish I had steak and wine too…"
The implication couldn't be more obvious.
If this were the old Ethan, he would've been knocking on her door in minutes.
But this Ethan?
He smirked and replied casually:
"Then go buy some."
Rachel froze.
Buy…? Buy what? It's freaking -80°F outside! You step out for two minutes, you'll lose your nose!
She grit her teeth.
"You're not a real man, Ethan! You had the perfect chance to impress me and you blew it!"
Even now, she still tried to keep her "queen" act.
She told herself this storm wouldn't last.Just a few days, and everything would go back to normal.
So she refused to beg.
Big mistake.
Ethan ignored her.
He opened the building's community chat, curious to see how the neighbors were coping.
Sure enough, Ms. Linda, the self-appointed "Neighborhood Committee Queen," was barking orders:
"Don't panic, everyone! This is just a cold front—it'll pass in a few days."
"No need to hoard supplies. Trust the authorities."
"And please stay home. We're organizing help. Don't create trouble for the government."
Someone pushed back.
"It's already been snowing nonstop for a full day. What if it doesn't stop?"
"Maybe we should go buy groceries before it's too late."
Linda exploded:
"What's wrong with you people?! That kind of behavior is exactly what drives prices up!"
"Anyone I catch hoarding food—I swear—I'll report you!"
Ethan snorted.
Typical power trip.
A storm that could last months, and this old bat wanted to play hero.
He chuckled… until she tagged him directly.
"@Ethan You already stockpiled a ton, didn't you? Don't make things worse by setting a bad example!"
"If I catch you going out to buy again, I'll report you myself!"
Ethan's smile disappeared.
This hag again?
Last time, she asked him for food. He refused.Clearly, she hadn't forgotten.
But to Ethan?
You're not the law. You're just a washed-up busybody.
He fired back:
"And what if the snow doesn't stop for weeks? Who takes responsibility when people start starving? You?"
That shut the chat up.
Everyone had the same fear.
But no one dared challenge Linda… until now.
With Ethan leading the charge, others finally spoke up:
"Exactly! If we don't prepare now, who's gonna feed us later?"
"Are YOU going to cover our groceries, Linda?"
Linda panicked.
She didn't expect pushback.
She doubled down:
"The committee assures you—there is no shortage of supplies!"
"Stop spreading rumors, Ethan! That's a crime!"
Sitting at home, gnashing her teeth, Linda muttered:
"That Ethan Cross… arrogant punk. I'll get him detained if it's the last thing I do!"
Ethan burst out laughing.
She still thinks her empty little title matters in the apocalypse? Pathetic.
He typed:
"Oh please. Save your threats. It's freezing out—I'm not going anywhere. But thanks for the drama."
Truth was, Ethan already had everything he needed.He wasn't stepping outside for anything.
The others?
The ones who listened to Linda?
They'd regret it soon.
Ethan felt a twinge of pity—But only for a moment.
This was the apocalypse.If you weren't ruthless, you were dead.And Ethan Cross? He planned to live forever.