Chapter 2

To my surprise, Amber's eyes lit up when she saw the handbag on the sofa.

She then gave me a once-over, noting my casual, unbranded clothes with a hint of disdain in her eyes.

I looked at her too.

There was something familiar about this Amber.

Before I could place where I'd seen her before, Amber started her act again.

She deliberately placed her own handbag on her lap, pretending to reach for a tissue.

That's when I realized that her bag was the same model as the one I'd just bought.

Wait a minute, mine was a limited edition that was hard to get. There was only one in our city.

Looking closer, I noticed that the hardware on her bag looked dull. Suddenly, it all made sense.

It was a knockoff, and not even a good one.

She patted her bag, "You know, women should treat themselves well. When buying things, always go for the authentic items. It's so embarrassing to be caught with a fake."

Then she turned to me, "Sis, where did you buy this bag? Let me check if it's real. I have an app for that."

My mom, maintaining what little composure she had left, put down a bowl and called to my brother, "Lucas, serve the food."

Amber, hearing this, immediately jumped to "protect" her man, "Sis, you're closer. Why don't you do it? I'll help you check if your bag is authentic."

She opened her phone, navigating through several pages before landing on a QR code scanner.

"It's not showing up. Sis, did you get scammed? Where did you buy this online? Mine is from a professional buyer. I can introduce you if you'd like. If you mention my name, you'll get a discount."

I looked at my brother, who gave me a pleading look.

Giving him a bit of face, I replied, "I bought it from the store."

Just then, the doorbell rang. It was my secretary, who had come specially.

As soon as she saw me, she apologized, "Ms. Tang, you forgot to take the warranty card and the complimentary silk scarf when you left earlier."

Amber's expression changed. She stared at the elegantly packaged items, then at her own bag, speechless.

By this time, my dad had finished setting the table and sternly told my brother to invite the "guest" to eat.

From the initial smiles to now referring to her as a "guest", it was clear that my parents had already written Amber off.