Ch10 - Ex-best friend

Violet was getting ready to head out. The only thing she’d brought with her was a framed photo of her parents—not even a change of clothes. 

But when she woke up that morning, there was a whole box of women’s clothes by the door. Still in her robe, she bent down to peek inside, but before she could even look, a maid appeared.

“Ma’am, these are all new outfits for you.”

She pointed downstairs. “And sir had some coats delivered too. We’ll move everything into the walk-in closet, if that’s alright?”

Violet nodded. The maid immediately waved for a few others, and together they carried the clothes into the dressing room—taking most of Julian’s things out to make space.

Inside, clothes were neatly arranged by color. Violet picked what looked the most plain and low-key, put it on, and headed out to work.

Most of her gigs were either waitressing at hotels or working at parties. She’d already promised to finish out the month, so after today’s two shifts, she’d be done.

When the afternoon event wrapped, she rushed to the evening job. Tonight’s venue was run by the same catering company that had handled the event where she’d been drugged. The female manager spotted her right away, waving in surprise.

“Oh my god, finally! You’re okay? I heard things… are you alright?”

Violet couldn’t tell her the truth. She just gave a vague answer. “I’m fine.”

“Good. Come here.” The manager dug into her pay pouch, counting out some bills.

“I couldn’t find you that night, and I didn’t have your number, so I held on to your pay. Here—this covers that shift and today.”

“Thanks.” Violet folded the cash neatly into her pocket. “Where’s the uniform? I’ll change.”

The manager handed her an outfit but then paused, eyeing her clothes. “Tonight’s Western-cowboy theme. You’re already in jeans, perfect. Just wear the top and the hat.”

After changing, Violet slipped the diamond ring off her finger and tucked it into her pocket before walking out of the restroom. She was pulling her hair into a low ponytail, head down, not noticing the two people coming her way.

The hallway wasn’t narrow, but the woman coming at her deliberately slammed shoulders with her. Violet staggered, the hat tucked in her arm flying to the floor. She bent to grab it and started to stand—

Only to hear a voice, cool and unapologetic: “Oops. My bad.”

Violet froze. She knew that voice. When she looked up, her eyes narrowed. Tiffany.

Her ex-best friend.

Violet’s body tensed instantly.

Tiffany put on a fake look of surprise, glancing down at her. “Well, well. Isn’t this Violet? Long time no see. How’ve you been? What are you doing here?”

Violet turned her face away, not answering. Tiffany was the one who’d betrayed her a year ago—sneaking around with Liam, Violet’s then-boyfriend.

Violet brushed off her knees and stood, but Tiffany shoved her shoulder again. “GOD, you’re so cold. I’m talking to you—what, you deaf now?”

“DON’T touch me.” Violet yanked her arm free. She refused to show weakness, even though she still didn’t understand why Tiffany hated her so much. Tiffany was the one who’d done wrong. They weren’t friends anymore, but every time they crossed paths, Tiff went out of her way to pick a fight.

The tension between them thickened.

Tiffany had always despised her. Back in school, Violet’s soft, innocent looks had stolen the attention of the guy Tiffany liked. He could’ve fallen for anyone, but why Violet?

So when Liam came along, Tiffany hadn’t even cared much for him—she just wanted Violet to feel what it was like to have something she cared about ripped away.

Jealousy had been burning in her ever since. Even now, seeing Violet’s face still made her feel like she hadn’t gotten even.

“Careful, or I’ll file a complaint—say you shoved a guest,” Tiffany threatened, chin tilted high.

Violet took a slow breath, forcing calm. “Relax. My shift hasn’t even started yet.”

Tiffany’s face twisted, darker by the second.

Her friend, Harper, had been lingering nearby, but when the tension spiked she quietly stepped aside, clearly not wanting to get dragged in. Still, her eyes flicked to Violet—and then widened. She hurried back to Tiffany, tugging her arm. “Tiff—hey!”

“What now? You trying to scare me?” Tiffany snapped.

“That’s the new designer collab, isn’t it? Look at her jeans. We just saw those in a magazine!”

Tiffany didn’t even bother to glance. She just rolled her eyes. “Please, Harper. You think she could afford those? That collab’s twenty grand a pair, and sold out everywhere. No way she’s wearing the real thing.”

Harper pursed her lips. “Right…They’re already being resold for seventy.”

Violet glanced down at the deep-blue denim, noticing the black embroidered crosses below the pocket, the small signature stitched on the back. That was it. Nothing flashy. She checked the time—her shift was about to start. She turned to go.

But Tiffany yanked her back by the vest. Grimacing at a faint old stain, she pinched the fabric with just her finger instead.

“Running away? Guilty much?” Tiffany sneered.

“I’ve got nothing to say to you. Let go.” Violet pushed her anger down hard. The last thing she wanted was to start trouble on the job—not for her own sake, but for her manager and coworkers.

“One year gone and you’ve gotten so fake. What, you buy knock-offs now? That crap doesn’t even go with your bargain-bin uniform.”

“Got proof?” Violet’s voice cut, cold.

“WHAT?” Tiffany blinked, thrown off.

“You think I need proof? PLEASE. You live in that run-down part of town with your broke-ass family. What are you doing—juggling three jobs again? Let me guess, your uncle gambled away the money and now you’re stuck picking up scraps.”

She smirked, swinging her designer bag. “Want me to tip you a little? I’m feeling generous these days.”

Violet’s temper flared—but she clamped it down. Tiffany knew her too well. She knew where to hit, what would sting. And yeah, some of it had been true once. But Tiffany didn’t know the whole story, not anymore.

“You’re right,” Violet said flatly, eyes locked on hers.

Tiffany froze, her smug grin faltering.

“Happy now? Then let me go.” Violet glanced down at the hand clutching her clothes.

Tiffany blinked, lips parting, thrown off by the calm. As Violet pulled free, she snapped, furious, “FINE! You can have Liam back. God knows I’m done with him. I can’t even watch you anymore.”

She thought dragging Liam into it would finally hit a nerve.

Violet turned, her eyes steady but glacial. “Don’t bother. That scumbag suits you better than anyone. You two deserve each other.”

“YOU bitch—” Tiffany lurched forward, finger jabbing the air, ready to storm after her. But Harper quickly grabbed her arm. “Tiff, remember Matt said we can’t be late? We should go.”

Tiffany stopped in her tracks, but her mouth wouldn’t quit. “Ha! All she’s got is a sharp tongue. She can act all cool, but underneath she’s still that pathetic loser. I don’t give a damn about her.”

“…Why do you hate her so much, though?” Harper finally asked, voice small. “Sounds like you two go way back.”

Tiffany’s glare cut over, sharp enough to make her flinch.

“Why? Does there have to be a reason? I just can’t stand her, that’s all.”

Harper shut her mouth fast. “Fair enough…” She didn’t argue, though in her gut she doubted Tiffany’s words. Those jeans hadn’t looked fake at all. No way a brand-new release would already have knockoffs floating around after just a few days. 

Maybe Violet wasn’t the same girl Tiffany kept trying to paint her as.

But Harper kept that thought to herself. No way she was saying it out loud—not with Tiffany in this mood.