Chapter 1

The limited-edition designer bag I had brought back from Paris for my coworker was thrown right in my face, right in front of her clique of best friends.

"Take a good look at this yourself! How is this any different from a cheap knockoff from Wish?"

Her voice was so shrill that the entire coffee shop went dead silent. "You bought this for a friend and still ripped me off? Do you even have a conscience?"

Her friends swarmed in immediately, chiming in one after another, accusing me of scamming acquaintances and being completely shameless.

One of them even lunged forward to rummage through my shoulder bag, claiming she wanted to see if I was hiding "counterfeit samples" inside.

Patrons at the surrounding tables stared at us, and a few people even pulled out their phones.

I picked up the crumpled box, set it back down right in front of her, and spoke calmly:

"I can do a return. But please restore the packaging box you just smashed back to its original state. Otherwise, the boutique won’t accept damaged goods."

She froze for a moment, clearly caught off guard that this was all I had to say after enduring her tirade.

Ignoring her completely, I pulled out my phone, dialed the brand’s official customer service hotline, and hit the speakerphone—

The limited-edition designer bag I had brought back for my coworker, Mandy, was thrown right in my face, right in front of her clique of best friends.

"Kylie, take a good look at this yourself! How is this any different from a cheap knockoff from Wish?"

Her voice was loud enough for the entire coffee shop to hear. "You bought this for a friend and still ripped me off? Do you even have a conscience?"

As she spoke, her pretty face was twisted in disgust and fury, as if I had committed an unforgivable crime.

Her friends swarmed in like flies smelling blood, buzzing with venom.

"Seriously, Mandy has been so good to you, and you literally scammed someone you know."

"Talk about shameless. Selling your dignity for a couple grand."

A woman wearing heavy smokey-eye makeup actually reached out to rummage through my shoulder bag, speaking in a condescending sneer.

"Let me see—are you hiding a bunch of other counterfeit samples in here?"

I jerked sideways to dodge her hand, my gaze turning icy.

The surrounding tables were all watching us, murmuring under their breath. Someone had already raised their phone, and a camera flash went off.

My cheeks burned, not from shame, but pure anger.

Yet, I refused to let rage burn away my logic.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled out the boutique receipts and electronic customs clearance documents I had prepared long ago, laying them across the table one by one.

"Mandy, this is the proof of purchase. It has the unique serial number on it. You can check it yourself on the official website."

Neither she nor her friends even spared it a glance.

"Who can't Photoshop stuff like that nowadays? Who are you trying to fool?"

"Exactly! If it’s real, why are you acting so guilty?"

My chest throbbed where the heavy box had hit me. I looked down and saw that the second button of my blouse had been torn off.

A cool draft seeped through my collar, and I awkwardly gathered my shirt together.

Then, I bent down, picking up the deformed packaging box off the floor.

My fingers pressed against the cracked surface. That crack ran straight through the gold-foiled brand logo.

At that moment, the tightly wound string in my mind suddenly snapped slack.

I stared at the split in my hands, a realization flashing across my mind—she had invited me to this coffee shop, brought all these people, and launched a public attack. Every single step was calculated.

She wasn't trying to reason with me.

She was trying to force me to lose my temper.

And the second I lost my temper, I would lose the fight.

Realizing this, my hands stopped shaking, and my racing heart calmed down.

She wasn't trying to reason with me; she was trying to force me to lose my temper, because the moment I broke, she won.

I placed the box back on the table in front of her with a dull thud.

My voice was completely flat, without a trace of emotion.

"I can do a return."

She froze for a second, clearly not expecting that after all this, I would speak words that sounded like backing down.

A triumphant smirk spread across her face. Crossing her arms, she waited for me to beg for mercy.

Word by word, I continued clearly:

"But please restore the packaging box you just smashed back to its original state."

"Otherwise, the boutique won’t accept damaged goods, and I won't be able to process a return for you."

Mandy’s smile froze.

Her friends exchanged bewildered looks.

"What do you mean? It’s just a broken cardboard box, and you’re trying to extort me over it?" Mandy’s voice spiked.

"It’s not extortion." I looked calmly into her eyes. "Those are the return policies. The packaging, accessories, and receipts must all be intact and undamaged."

"It’s common sense."

Looking at her face, which had paled with frustration, I felt an unprecedented calm.

Because I saw right through her: this entire drama was orchestrated by her. From the moment she asked me to meet at this coffee shop surrounded by her clique, she had no intention of solving the problem.

She didn't want a return; she wanted to tear my dignity to shreds in public.

Too bad for her. I could give up many things, but my dignity was something I had to fight for myself.

The café manager hurried over, attempting to mediate.

"Ladies, please, whatever the issue is, let's talk it out quietly so we don't disturb the other guests."

Mandy instantly put on the face of a helpless victim, pointing at me as she whined to the manager:

"Manager, you be the judge! She sold me a fake, and now she refuses to take it back, using a stupid broken box to give me a hard time!"

I ignored her theatrics and politely nodded to the manager.

"I apologize for causing trouble."

Then I turned back to Mandy, my gaze devoid of any warmth.

"Mandy, I'll say it one more time. If you want a refund, fix the box first."

"If you can't, that means you're keeping the bag. Deal's done."

With that, I didn't look at her again. I grabbed my purse, turned around, and prepared to leave this sickening place.

"Kylie, stop right there!" she shrieked behind me.

One of her friends lunged forward to block my path, but an icy glare from me forced her to step back.

Without looking back, I walked straight out of the coffee shop.

The afternoon sunlight outside was blinding. I took a deep breath of the city air, finally feeling like I could breathe again.

I knew this was far from over.

Mandy was never going to let this go.