Chapter 4: The Slap at Mevoy

Mevoy Avenue was quiet. It was the kind of silence that only money could buy. To even walk through the main doors, you needed a membership that required a fifty-thousand-dollar monthly spend. I didn't come here for the status; I came for the air conditioning and a distraction. Alexander had given me a heavy, matte-black card this morning. He didn't say much, just told me to "look the part."

I was dressed in a plain white polo shirt and simple tailored trousers. No logos. No flashing jewelry. I wanted to move through the stores without being followed by sales associates.

I stopped at a boutique called Mevoy Elite. Inside, the lighting was soft and the air smelled like expensive sandalwood. I saw a black silk dress hanging near the back. It was simple, elegant, and perfectly cut. I reached out to touch the fabric, feeling the cool silk against my skin.

"Look at this. I didn't think they let people in here without a deposit anymore."

I didn't need to turn around to know who it was. Penelope’s voice was high and sharp. She walked into the boutique followed by two women I didn't recognize—probably the usual group of social climbers who followed her around for free lunch. They all laughed, the sound echoing off the marble walls.

Penelope walked straight up to me. Before I could move, she snatched the black dress off the rack.

"This is far too expensive for you, Scarlett," Penelope said. She held the dress against herself, looking in the mirror. "Arthur gave me his platinum card this morning. He told me to buy whatever I wanted to make up for the 'stress' of yesterday."

One of her friends leaned in, looking at my plain outfit. "Is she even allowed to be in here? She looks like she’s here to clean the floors."

Penelope smirked and turned toward the front desk. "Manager! Come here!"

A man in a sharp suit hurried out from a back office. He looked at Penelope and immediately broke into a wide, servile smile. "Ah, Miss Penelope! It is a pleasure to see you. I heard the news about your engagement to Mr. Sterling. Congratulations."

"Thank you, Robert," Penelope said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "I’ll take this dress. In fact, I’ll take everything in my size. But first, could you please remove this woman? She’s making the atmosphere feel... cheap. I can’t shop comfortably while she’s staring at me."

The manager, Robert, turned to look at me. His smile vanished instantly. He took in my simple clothes and my lack of shopping bags. To him, I looked like a mistake.

"I’m sorry, Miss," Robert said, his tone cold and dismissive. "This boutique is for serious clients only. The dress you were looking at has already been claimed by Miss Penelope. I’m going to have to ask you to leave immediately."

I didn't move. I didn't get angry either. I just looked at him. "You’re asking me to leave based on what, exactly?"

"Based on the fact that you can't afford to be here," Robert snapped. "Now, don't make me call security. It would be embarrassing for everyone."

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my wallet. I took out the metal black card Alexander had given me. It felt heavy in my hand. I held it out toward the manager.

"How about I just buy the whole boutique instead?" I asked.

Robert reached out to take the card, his expression annoyed—until he saw the name engraved on the bottom. Alexander King.

The color drained from his face so fast I thought he might faint. His hands started to shake. This wasn't just a black card. This was the King’s Black Card. There were only five in the world. It didn't just have a high limit; it represented the man who owned the very ground this mall was built on.

"I-I... Mr. King?" Robert stammered. He looked at the card, then at me, then back at the card.

"I want you to wrap up every single item in this store," I said. My voice was calm, which seemed to scare him even more. "Everything. Have it delivered to the King Estate by tonight."

"Of course, Madam! Right away!" Robert bowed so low he was almost doubled over.

"And one more thing, Robert," I added. "Effective immediately, you are fired. I don't like my employees being unable to recognize a client. I’ll have the legal team send over your termination papers by morning."

Penelope’s jaw dropped. She looked like she had been hit by a truck. "That card... you stole that! Alexander King would never give a thief his personal card!"

She stepped toward me, her face contorted with rage. "You think you’re so special because you found a new man to cling to? You're still just a—"

Plak!

The sound of the slap was loud and crisp. It echoed through the quiet boutique.

Penelope stumbled back, her hand flying to her cheek. She hit the floor, her expensive heels sliding on the marble. She stared up at me, her eyes wide with shock and fear.

"That was for your mouth," I said. I looked down at her as if she were a stain on the floor. "And if you ever speak to me again, I won't just stop at a slap. I’ll make sure Arthur Sterling’s debt is the least of your family’s problems."

I turned to the trembling manager. "Get her out of my store. Now."