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Chapter_23
Whitney stood frozen as Roselyn suddenly slapped her hand, snatching the shirt away from her grasp. Roselyn’s arm still throbbed from the earlier altercation with Whitney and her so-called thug friend at the club, and today, she was determined to humiliate Whitney. With a mocking sneer, Roselyn taunted, “Whitney, this is a Hermès counter. Can you even read? Do you still think you’re that socialite, front-row at all the fashion shows?”
Turning to the sales clerks, Roselyn scoffed, “Times have changed. Why are you letting anyone, even the likes of her, walk in here? It’s ruining the ambiance for us VIPs.”
The clerks exchanged nervous glances, and one quickly shot a dismissive look at Whitney. Tiana, about to step in to defend Whitney, was stopped by a calm gesture from her friend.
Roselyn picked up a gown with a flourish, her voice dripping with superiority. “This gown? A custom piece for Monica, worth 880 grand. You really think someone like you could afford even a sliver of this? And look at what you’re wearing—Monet? Ha, must be a knockoff!” She yanked at Whitney’s collar, inspecting her clothes. “Everyone, take a look! The once untouchable Ms. Valentine is reduced to wearing fakes. What a fall from grace! Sales clerks, make sure she doesn’t steal anything.”
Whitney almost laughed, her curiosity piqued. She wondered what L would say if he knew someone was questioning the authenticity of his clothes.
“Shouldn’t you be escorting out this down-and-out woman who can’t even afford a black card?” Roselyn smugly thought to herself, sure that publicly putting Whitney down would earn her favor with Monica.
The clerk hesitated, but Roselyn’s taunts had put pressure on them. They started ushering Whitney toward the door.
But Whitney moved with a quiet confidence. With a slow and deliberate motion, she pulled out her smartphone and set a gold-embossed black card on the counter. She approached the sales counter, her voice calm but piercing. “I’ll take the entire collection in this store, including the dress she’s holding—the one Monica’s so desperate to have.” She glanced at Roselyn, a mocking smile playing on her lips.
The store fell into stunned silence. Gasps filled the room. The sales clerks’ expressions shifted instantly, and Roselyn’s face turned ashen.
“Impossible!” Roselyn exclaimed, charging at Whitney. “How could you have a black card? Clerk, check it! It must be fake!”
Whitney completed the transaction with no hesitation, and the total—millions of dollars—was paid without a second thought.
Roselyn’s face flushed with fury as the onlookers began to whisper and mock her. Tiana, seizing the opportunity, grabbed the gown from Roselyn and tore it in one swift motion. “See that? We don’t waste our time tearing people like you apart,” she sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. “Oops, my bad—looks like I tore it a bit. But ragged clothes suit a vile person like Monica anyway. Take it back to her, with my compliments.”
“You’re crazy!” Roselyn spat. “Tiana, you—”
“What’s the matter, Roselyn? Can’t afford a black card and still hanging around here, waiting for me to kick your ass?” Tiana’s tone was sharp, her eyes blazing with anger. It was clear she was ready to follow through if necessary.
Roselyn stumbled out of the store, clutching the torn gown. Her face was a mix of humiliation and fury as she immediately called Monica, her voice laced with frustration. “Monica, Whitney tore your dress!”
“What? You couldn’t even handle one thing?” Monica’s voice was cold, disappointment radiating through her words. “You’re useless!”
Roselyn’s eyes narrowed with growing malice. She and Monica were never truly friends; their relationship was built on opportunism and mutual benefit. If it weren’t for Monica’s current influence, Roselyn wouldn’t have bothered with the false flattery. Clenching her teeth, she continued, “Whitney has a gold-embossed black card. She just bought the whole store’s collection and completely humiliated me.”
Monica scoffed, her voice dripping with envy. “Impossible. Are you blind? Whitney can barely make ends meet. Didn’t you say her boyfriend can’t even pay your medical bills? Now she’s got a black card? They must be faking it—probably just borrowed money to put on airs.”
Monica’s tone hardened as she continued, “That bitch has caused too many scandals for my family. My dad’s forgiven my mom, and she’s working on something. Wait until you see how long Whitney can keep this up. She’ll be done for soon.”
Roselyn immediately flattered Monica. “Yvonne sure knows how to handle things,” she said, her voice dripping with sycophantic admiration.
Meanwhile, in the Valentine Mansion’s bedroom, Yvonne, ever the manipulator, had used every trick in the book to please Preston. After his mood visibly improved, she finally lay down beside him, panting from the exertion. Though she was aging, Yvonne’s figure still held its appeal, though the effort left her breathless. She clenched her fists at the thought of how Whitney had exposed her past. But, thankfully, Preston had managed to suppress the trending searches, and the mockery from the high society ladies had dwindled. Yvonne had been able to protect her reputation and status for now.
Cuddling close to Preston, she purred, “Darling, I’ve dealt with Phebe. She finally agreed to the engagement between Simon and Monica. But Monica still needs a dowry. If we give her the East Side resort as a gift, our daughter’s status will skyrocket.”
Preston’s response was simple but effective. “Then it’s hers.”
Yvonne’s eyes gleamed with cold satisfaction. “But Whitney’s grandfather left that resort. We’ve taken everything else from her, but the resort requires her signature.” A ruthless smile spread across her face as she continued, “When she comes back, I’ll make her sign. But that’s not all. I’ll ensure she never causes any more trouble. Then Monica will have no competition in the jewelry contest.”
Preston’s face darkened, but he nodded in agreement. “You’ve done well with Monica’s engagement.”
Yvonne felt a surge of triumph. She was about to eliminate Whitney once and for all, ensuring her daughter’s future and Monica’s victory in the competition.
Back at the boutique, Tiana teased Whitney, “I was going to buy you a dress to cheer you up, but looks like you already had a trump card up your sleeve!”
“What are you talking about?” Whitney asked, her confusion evident.
Tiana’s playful grin faltered slightly before she regained her teasing tone. “Your mysterious hubby must be loaded! You swipe that black card for a few million, and he doesn’t even call to chew you out. Whitney, seriously, no matter who he is or what he looks like, you should totally lock him down.”
Whitney sighed, glancing at the credit card in her hand. “It’s just a parting gift from L. I wasn’t planning on using it.” She paused for a moment before adding, “I’ll probably return all this stuff later.”
“Return them? No way!” Tiana interrupted, pushing a couple of outfits into Whitney’s arms. “You should try this one on, and this one! I want to check out the handbags next, so come out and show me how they look!”
As Whitney opened Facebook to explain her shopping spree, Tiana’s voice echoed from outside the fitting room. “Hurry up! I want to see you in those clothes!”
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