Chapter 8

Tiffany marched furiously up to the heavy, velvet-draped doors of the Private Client Suite. Her newly purchased designer bags swung aggressively from her arms, hitting her thighs with every step.

She reached for the polished brass handle, fully intending to storm inside and demand a private fitting room to soothe her bruised ego and hide from the whispering crowd.

Before her fingers could even touch the metal, Mr. Hayes stepped smoothly into her path. The general manager used his body to physically block the entrance.

Mr. Hayes offered a tight, professional smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I apologize, Ms. Vance. The suite is currently occupied by a VVIP client and is strictly off-limits."

Tiffany scoffs loudly, waving her long, expensive receipt directly in his face. "I just spent over a hundred thousand dollars on your floor! I am a platinum tier client!"

She demanded he kick out whoever was inside immediately.

Mr. Hayes didn't even blink at the receipt. His posture remained rigid, his tone dropping an octave to convey absolute authority. "The suite is unavailable."

Kadence caught up to them, breathless and pale. She tugged frantically at Tiffany's arm. "Tiffany, please, let's just go. This is a mistake."

Tiffany ripped her arm away from Kadence. The humiliation from Ava's earlier comments fueled a blind, irrational rage that overrode all common sense.

Ava strolled up behind them. Her footsteps were completely unhurried. She watched the spectacle with detached, cold amusement.

Tiffany spun around, seeing Ava standing there. She immediately pointed a manicured finger at her. "You bribed the manager to embarrass me! You pathetic bitch!"

Ava laughed. It was a soft, melodic sound that chilled the air. "Do you truly believe a hundred thousand dollars makes you royalty in a city of billionaires, Tiffany?"

Tiffany lost the last shred of her composure. She lunged forward slightly, her face contorted in rage. "I will call the press! I will ruin this store's reputation!"

Mr. Hayes immediately signaled with a sharp nod. Two burly security guards, previously standing discreetly near the jewelry counters, began to close in on the group.

Ava stepped past Kadence, invading the mistress's personal space. The scent of Ava's custom, expensive perfume overwhelmed Kadence's senses.

Ava leaned in and whispered directly into Kadence's ear. "How do you think Bryant's IPO investors would react if a high-definition video of his hospital hallway make-out session leaked to Page Six tonight?"

Kadence's eyes widened in sheer, unadulterated terror. All the remaining color left her face. Ava had hard, digital evidence.

Kadence stumbled backward. Her designer shopping bag dropped from her trembling hands, the contents spilling across the polished marble floor.

She grabbed Tiffany by the shoulders, her voice a desperate, cracking sob. "Stop causing a scene! We have to leave!"

Tiffany, confused by Kadence's sudden emotional breakdown, looked between her panicked friend and the eerily calm Ava.

"Stop acting weak!" Tiffany yelled at Kadence. "I won't let a discarded, penniless ex-wife win this!"

She turned back to Mr. Hayes, raising her voice to a shrill, ear-piercing screech. "I demand to speak to the owner of this department store immediately! I will have you fired by the end of the day!"

A heavy click echoed loudly in the tense corridor. The velvet doors of the Private Client Suite unlocked from the inside.

The doors swung open slowly, revealing the opulent interior and the imposing figure standing in the dead center of the room.

Anona Beaumont stepped out into the corridor. She was draped in understated cashmere, wearing a diamond necklace worth more than Tiffany's entire family trust fund.

Anona's gaze swept over the scene. Her eyes were cold, sharp, and instantly assessed the threat to her daughter.

Tiffany, completely failing to recognize the reclusive billionaire matriarch, crossed her arms. "And who the hell are you?"

Mr. Hayes immediately bowed his head in deep respect, stepping aside to give Anona the floor.

Anona looked at Tiffany like one looks at a crushed cockroach. Her voice cut through the air like a diamond blade as she prepared to answer.