Chapter 7
Chapter 7:
The interior of Bergdorf Goodman on Fifth Avenue was a sanctuary of wealth.
June needed clothes. She needed armor for the meeting tonight and for the corporate battles she was about to wage.
She moved through the high-end designer boutique on the third floor until her eyes landed on a stunning black velvet evening gown — razor-sharp in its cut, ruthless and elegant in equal measure.
Just as June reached out to touch the fabric, another hand shot forward and seized the hanger.
“Oh, this is absolutely perfect for the charity gala tomorrow night,” a sickeningly sweet voice declared.
June turned her head.
Alycia stood there, clinging tightly to Cole’s arm.
Cole’s eyes locked onto June. For a fraction of a second, surprise flashed across his face — and something else, undeniable and quickly suppressed. June looked different. Her posture was straight, her presence commanding. But the flicker of attraction hardened just as fast into cold irritation.
“What are you doing here, June?” Cole demanded. “Are you stalking us p>
Alycia gasped and pressed a hand to her mouth in theatrical shock. “June! I didn’t even see you. But — this dress is five thousand dollars. Are you sure you’re in the right store p>
у𝘰𝘶𝗋 𝘯𝗲x𝘁 𝗳a𝗏𝘰𝗋і𝘵𝗲 𝘳𝗲𝖺d і𝗌 𝗼ո
Cole adjusted his cuffs and regarded June with an expression of deliberate pity. “Stop embarrassing yourself. I cut off your cards this morning. You couldn’t afford a pair of socks in this building p>
The sales associate — a tall woman with a severe bun and an immediate read of the room — stepped forward. Her eyes moved from Cole’s custom suit to June’s plain coat. The judgment was instant.
“Excuse me, miss,” the associate said to June, her tone laden with condescension. “That piece is a limited edition. If you aren’t purchasing, please refrain from handling the velvet. It damages easily p>
June lowered her hand, her expression cool and entirely unbothered. She simply watched.
Cole let out a short, harsh laugh. “See? She knows she can’t afford it. Don’t expect me to bail you out when you try to shoplift p>
Alycia tugged on his sleeve, her lower lip pushed into a pout. “Cole, I really want it. Please p>
Cole produced his solid gold credit card and handed it to the associate with practiced ease. “Ring it up for Alycia p>
As the associate accepted the card, Cole threw June one last triumphant smirk. “This is how real money works, June. Maybe one day you’ll learn.” He wrapped an arm around Alycia and steered her toward the exit. “Let’s go, darling. We’ve wasted enough time here p>
June stood still until the sound of their laughter faded down the corridor.
Then she turned back to the associate, who was already heading toward the register.
“Excuse me,” June said quietly.
The associate glanced back, visibly annoyed. “What is it now p>
June’s expression remained perfectly blank. She reached into her purse, withdrew the titanium Centurion card between her index and middle finger, and held it out.
The associate looked at the card. Her eyes widened so severely she appeared to stop breathing. Every trace of arrogance evaporated at once, replaced by a trembling, almost frantic deference.
“A — a Centurion,” the associate stammered, her hands visibly shaking as she accepted the card. “My deepest apologies, Miss — my sincerest apologies. How may I assist you p>
June’s gaze made a slow, deliberate sweep of the entire boutique.
“The dress he was about to purchase. And that one. And that one. And the entire row of suits.” She paused. “I’ll take everything. Have it all delivered to my penthouse on Billionaires’ Row p>
The associate’s jaw dropped. She nodded frantically and hurried off to countermand the previous sale and begin gathering the items.
A few minutes later, she returned and presented the card and receipt to June with both hands. “Thank you for your purchase, ma’am. Everything will be delivered within the hour p>
Outside on Fifth Avenue, June drew a slow breath of freezing air into her lungs. She felt no need to shout, no urge to make a scene. Using her own money to quietly erase their small victory felt better than any argument ever could.