6

The marble floors glistened beneath Chloe’s boots as she stepped into the heart of the luxury mall. She moved slowly, carefully, like someone stepping into a dream they didn’t quite believe was real. High ceilings, soft piano music in the background, glass storefronts showcasing mannequins draped in clothing that cost more than her life savings.

This wasn’t just a mall. It was a temple for the rich. And Chloe was a stranger at the altar.

Upon entering one particular store, her breath slipped away. A rush of cool air brushed over her bare arms, and the scent washed over her like an intoxicating wave. It wasn’t perfume or air freshener; it was the aroma of wealth soft leather, zesty citrus, freshly steamed linen, and whatever elusive fragrance the rich inhaled to remind themselves they’re better. Shelves of sleek handbags gleamed as if they were sacred artifacts, and dresses hung like masterpieces in an art gallery, untouched and revered.

She took a tentative step closer, drawn to a display of quilted leather bags. Leaning in, her eyes flicked to the tag on the smallest one.

$4,900.

Her stomach twisted. That was more than her mom’s last hospital bill. More than rent for three months. Hell, more than her entire wardrobe since high school.

For the past seven years, thrift stores had been her only option, with threadbare racks, missing buttons, and secondhand lives stitched together with the smell of mothballs and regret. She still remembered pulling a coat from a donation bin and praying it would last through winter.

And now, here she was.

A laugh almost escaped her lips. It sounded like madness.

“Excuse me,” a voice cut through the air, sharp and suspicious. Chloe turned to see a thin, older sales associate approaching, heels clicking on marble like judgment. Her red lips were tight, her eyes scanning Chloe from head to toe.

“Can I help you with something?” the woman asked, her tone already implying she didn’t think she could.

Chloe blinked. “Uh… no. Just… browsing.”

The associate frowned. “This is Chanel, miss.”

“I know where I am,” Chloe replied, lifting her chin a little.

The woman’s eyes narrowed. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“What?” Chloe laughed, stunned. “Why?”

“You’re not dressed appropriately. And frankly, I don’t believe you’re here to shop. Unless you’re lost?”

Chloe’s heart slammed against her chest. “I’m not lost. I said I’m here to buy something.”

“If you don’t leave, I’ll be forced to call security…”

But Chloe had already reached into her bag. Her fingers found the cool edge of the gold card Valerius had given her. She pulled it out and held it up like a weapon.

The woman’s eyes locked on the card and widened instantly. The shift was immediate like watching a mask drop.

“Oh… oh, ma’am,” the associate stammered. “I… I didn’t realize…”

Chloe tilted her head, smiling sweetly. “Why? Because of how I dress?”

The woman faltered. “No, it’s just that I… I didn’t recognize you, and…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Chloe said, letting the lie slip off her tongue like honey. “It’s from my fiancé. He just loves me so much, he gave me this and told me to get whatever I want.” She giggled, twirling a piece of her hair, trying to play the part of the pampered girlfriend. “He doesn’t like how I dress, though. He says I need to start looking like his queen. Can you imagine?”

The woman bowed slightly, shame burning in her cheeks. “I apologize, ma’am. I shouldn’t have judged. Please, allow me to assist you. We’ll get you the best pieces in the store.”

Chloe took a deep breath and nodded like royalty. “Good. Show me everything. The most expensive things you have. I’m here to spend millions today.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the woman said with a small bow. “Follow me.”

And just like that, Chloe was swept into the inner sanctum. They treated her like royalty… offering bottled water with lemon slices, plush seating while racks of clothes were brought to her, private dressing rooms lined with velvet curtains. Shoes, dresses, bags… more beauty than she’d ever seen in one place.

But with every price tag she touched, her stomach twisted tighter.

$3,200.

$8,600.

$12,000.

A bag could feed a family for a year. A pair of heels cost more than three months of her mother’s medication. She was surrounded by things she was supposed to want, was told to want but her chest ached with the weight of it all.

She smiled. She tried to enjoy it.

But part of her wanted to scream.

“Only designer,” Valerius had said, his voice low, commanding. “I won’t have my sugar baby walking around in scraps. You are mine now. You must look like it.”

She had no choice. She was his now. He’d made that clear.

Still, when she slipped into a body-hugging silk dress and caught sight of herself in the mirror, something strange happened.

She didn’t look like the girl from the thrift store anymore.

She looked like someone who belonged here.

Was this who she was now? Someone who would spend two grand on a pair of heels.

She brushed her fingers over the silk dress's barely there fabric, delicate as smoke.

She loved it.

She hated that she loved it.

But God, she couldn’t stop.

Her phone buzzed in her purse, pulling her from the moment. She reached for it.

It was Valerius.

DON’T FORGET TO GET SEXY LINGERIE.

I WANT YOU TO COME BY TONIGHT.

Chloe stared at the message, her reflection flickering in the mirror behind her.

Her hand tightened around the phone.

Tonight.