The room fell silent.

I wiped my face slowly.

Not calm—but controlled.

I looked straight at him.

“Fine,” I said quietly.

Then I reached into my purse…

Not for my card.

For my phone.

My hands trembled slightly, but my mind was clear. I wasn’t going to cry or scream and give them the scene they wanted. Javier leaned back, satisfied, thinking he had won. Mercedes watched, enjoying every second.

I called the waiter over.

“I’d like to speak to the manager,” I said. “And I need security.”

The waiter hesitated, glanced at my soaked face, then nodded and hurried away.

“Don’t make this worse, Clara,” Javier warned.

I ignored him. I opened my banking app and showed him the screen.

“The card you expect me to use is linked to our joint account,” I said. “And that account is mostly funded by my income. I’m not paying to be humiliated.”

Javier’s confidence flickered.