Chapter 1 As soon as my dad and I walked into the boutique, a female sales associate hurried over. The moment she saw my dad, her eyes lit up. “Mr. Sterling! You’re finally here.” “The bag you requested has already been pulled from the vault.” After she said that, she looked me up and down with a condescending glare. “Oh, and you brought a little friend with you.” I frowned. But my dad just smiled at her. “Brought her out to see the world.” The sales associate, Chloe, immediately turned sideways and guided my dad toward the VIP lounge. They walked incredibly close together. Her arm practically brushed against his sleeve. “Mr. Sterling, this suit jacket is a little tight on you. I told you last time you should size up.” My dad laughed. “I rushed over straight from the office, just threw whatever on.” Chloe playfully patted his shoulder. “You look more handsome just ‘throwing whatever on’ than most guys do trying their hardest.” I followed behind them, watching their back-and-forth, my footsteps slowing down. Listening to their conversation, a strange feeling began to creep into my stomach. They were too familiar. So familiar that Chloe knew my dad had flown to Miami for a business trip last week, and she even asked if he brought her back a souvenir. But my dad had only been to this boutique a handful of times, and always just to accompany my mom. When I stepped into the VIP lounge, champagne, sparkling water, and macarons were already laid out. Two glasses. One at the head of the table, and one next to Chloe’s seat. None for me. Chloe acted as if she had just noticed, covering her mouth with a laugh. “Oh, my apologies! I didn’t expect we’d have a plus-one today.” She said “my apologies,” but made absolutely no move to get another glass. My dad sat at the head of the table, and Chloe naturally sat down right next to him. I stood there for two seconds, then dragged a single armchair over for myself. A flash of annoyance crossed Chloe’s eyes. I ignored her and cut straight to the point: “Did my limited edition matte-gold croc-embossed Birkin arrive?” Chloe didn’t even look at me. She picked up an iPad and handed it to my dad. “Mr. Sterling, take a look at our new season lookbook first.” “You mentioned last time you preferred something more understated, so I specifically set aside a few pieces just for you.” I repeated myself: “I asked about the limited edition.” “Order number ending in 1907. The allocation was secured from the North American High Jewelry & Leather Goods preview event.” Chloe finally looked up at me. Her gaze swept from my Converse sneakers up to my plain Uniqlo t-shirt, before finally landing on my face. Her smile faded. “Sweetie, you don’t need to put on a show in front of me.” “For picking up merchandise of this caliber, it’s best if Mr. Sterling handles the confirmation.” My dad glanced at me too. “Don’t interrupt.” “I’ll handle the bag. You just sit there and watch.” My chest suddenly felt icy cold. My mom was the one who texted me the verification code. I was listed as the authorized contact on the account. How could he make it sound like I was just here as eye candy tagging along for the ride? Chloe seamlessly pulled a dark grey handbag out of its dust bag and placed it on the table. “Mr. Sterling, look at this one. The leather is sophisticated, and the color is gorgeous.” I stared at the bag for three seconds. “That’s not the right bag.” Chloe’s hand froze. “What do you mean?” “I ordered a matte-gold croc. The hardware is brushed platinum.” I pointed at the bag on the table. “This is just a standard premium leather. The color might be similar, but the price point and the collector’s value aren’t even in the same universe.” The smile completely vanished from Chloe’s face. She pushed the bag closer to my dad. “Sweetie, you can’t understand top-tier luxury handbags just by reading internet forums.” “Color, leather texture, silhouette—it all comes down to how it complements the wearer’s aura.” She turned back to my dad, her voice dripping with sugar again. “Mr. Sterling, this one is much more versatile and suits your refined taste.” “A bag that’s too flashy isn’t always the best choice.” My dad stroked the leather, nodding in agreement. “You’re right. Being too flashy isn’t a good look.” I stared at him. “But I’ve been waiting for that bag for months.” He looked up, impatience clearly written across his face. “This bag isn’t for you anyway.” “Chloe is the professional. If she says it’s a better fit, then it’s a better fit.” Chloe looked down, a smug, triumphant smile curling her lips. Chapter 2 The limited edition matte-gold bag my mom, Evelyn, had reserved was an exclusive piece from the brand’s anniversary exhibition tour. My mom hadn’t even planned on buying it. The Head of North American Operations had personally flown out to negotiate a corporate sponsorship with her company, and casually offered her the reservation slot as a courtesy. She thought it looked nice, so she ordered it. My dad had been there when it happened. Holding a glass of wine, he had smiled and said: “If you like it, get it. You’ve worked so hard for half your life, you deserve a reward.” His tone was so gentle back then. So gentle that thinking about it now made me feel physically sick. In the VIP lounge, Chloe was still enthusiastically pitching the standard stock bag. “While this isn’t a limited edition piece, its strength lies in its timeless, understated elegance.” “With a discerning eye like yours, Mr. Sterling, I know you appreciate true classics.” When she said, With a discerning eye like yours, she deliberately shot a side-eye at me. I picked up the glass of sparkling water on the table. A junior associate had brought it in a few minutes later. No ice. No coaster. “Who gets the commission on this standard stock bag?” Chloe’s face changed slightly. “The Client Advisor providing the service today, of course.” “And if I cancel the original order, whose inventory pool does the limited edition bag go back into?” Her fake smile finally cracked. “Sweetie, that’s not something you need to worry about.” “As the authorized contact on the account, I’m not allowed to ask?” The room went dead silent for a moment. My dad frowned. “What authorized contact?” I waved my phone. “The authorized contact sent here to pick up the bag.” Chloe’s eyes darted nervously for a split second. But she quickly recovered her sweet smile. “Oh, so the verification code is on your phone! That makes things even easier.” She pulled up a page on her iPad and slid it across the table toward me. “We just need to confirm the client’s change of preference here, release the original reservation, and ring up the standard stock bag.” I didn’t touch it. The form on the screen was already filled out. Client Preference: Original limited edition item no longer suitable. Requested switch to standard stock item. Notes entered by: Chloe Thorne. Timestamp: 20 minutes ago. Which meant, barely minutes after I walked into the store, she had already altered the system notes. The suspicion that had been gnawing at the back of my mind sank like a stone. “Who told you the client’s preference changed?” Chloe let out a soft, condescending chuckle. “Mr. Sterling already expressed that.” I looked at my dad. “Why are you trying to cancel the order?” My dad’s face darkened. “I can’t make decisions about things in my own household?” “You are just an accompanying guest. You are not the account holder.” “Mia Sterling.” He used my full name. “Is this how you speak to your elders after all those years of education?” Chloe immediately poured him a fresh glass of champagne and handed it to him, her voice soothing. “Mr. Sterling, please don’t be upset.” “Young girls are all like this nowadays. They think they know a few rules and suddenly they want to argue about everything.” I glared at her icily. “Who are you calling a young girl?” She smiled innocently. “I can’t exactly call you Ms. Sterling, can I?” “You look way too young for that.” The moment those words left her mouth, I finally understood why she had been using that patronizing tone since we walked in. In her eyes, I was probably just some young piece of arm candy my dad had brought along. A pretty little ornament relying on an older, wealthy man to get into the VIP lounge, hoping to be bought a shiny gift. That’s why she kept calling me “sweetie.” That’s why she referred to my mom as the “mature woman.” My dad heard all of this, yet he didn’t correct her. He let her assume. He was actually enjoying the misunderstanding. My stomach churned violently. I stood up. “I’m going to step out and make a phone call.” Chloe smiled and offered a helpful warning: “Sweetie, don’t go giving out the verification code to just anyone.” “Once a limited edition allocation is lost, you can’t just act cute and bat your eyelashes to get it back.” I looked back at her. “Don’t worry.” “The one losing out today won’t be me.” Chapter 3 I walked out of the VIP lounge, the blast of AC from the mall atrium hitting my face. Gripping my phone, my fingertips were ice-cold. Soft piano music echoed from the floor below, the sunlight filtering beautifully through the glass dome roof. The entire space felt elegant and serene. But my mind was screaming with Chloe’s phrase: “mature woman.” And the look on my dad’s face as he basked in her disgusting assumption. Just as I was about to dial my mom’s executive assistant, a soft voice called out from behind me. “Ms. Sterling?” I turned around. It was another sales associate from the boutique. She was wearing a sleek black suit, her hair pulled back into a low ponytail. Her nametag read: Harper Evans. She was holding a glass of lukewarm water, a protective paper cover resting over the rim. “You look a little pale. Would you like some water?” I took the glass. The temperature was perfect. She didn’t pry. She simply said: “The order ending in 1907 that you mentioned earlier… is that Ms. Evelyn Sterling’s matte-gold croc?” I looked at her, surprised. “You know about it?” “There’s an internal flag on the VIP system for it.” “That bag arrived in-store today. It requires either the client’s physical presence, or the primary authorized contact’s verification code to be released.” She paused, lowering her voice. “An accompanying guest is allowed to enter the private suite, but they have zero authority to release an allocation.” My heart jumped. “What if someone preemptively altered the client preference notes in the system?” Harper’s expression shifted slightly. “Please wait here for a moment.” She guided me to the VIP concierge desk nearby. It wasn’t on the main sales floor; it was a semi-private reception alcove. She logged into the system. After verifying my ID and the authorization code, her brow furrowed deeply. “Someone did indeed alter the notes.” She turned the monitor toward me. It clearly showed: 20 minutes ago: Chloe Thorne submitted ‘Client hesitating. Suggested switch to standard stock.’ 10 minutes ago: Chloe Thorne added the standard stock item to Ms. Evelyn Sterling’s ‘Pending Confirmation’ cart. I let out a cold laugh. “She works fast.” Harper pressed her lips into a thin line. “This is a severe violation of protocol.” “Especially since your mother is a VVIP client. Any release of her allocations requires a secondary, managerial override.” She immediately picked up the internal phone. “Inventory, please freeze all status updates on order 1907. Transfer it to the VIP Escalation Protection Vault. Yes, immediately.” She hung up the phone and looked at me. “Ms. Sterling, the order is now frozen. Only your mother in person, or you with the verification code, can sign for it.” I nodded. “Thank you.” She hesitated for a second, then added: “Chloe is currently competing for the Sales Director position. She’s under a lot of pressure to hit her quotas.” I smirked. “So she’s using my mom’s allocation as a stepping stone for her promotion?” Harper didn’t respond. Between adults, silence is an answer. I looked over at the new season lookbook resting next to the monitor. “Are these three available to order?” Harper was slightly taken aback. “Yes, but they are VIP-exclusive pre-orders. They have to be processed through Ms. Evelyn Sterling’s account.” “I have authorization.” “Will we be using the primary payment method on file?” “Yes.” I paused, then added: “And make sure you list yourself as the Client Advisor for the commission.” Harper looked at me, a flash of genuine surprise in her eyes. But she quickly reverted to her professional demeanor. “Absolutely. I’ll process the order for you right now.” “All order histories and unauthorized system alterations will be logged and preserved according to protocol.” I liked smart people. They didn’t ask unnecessary questions. They didn’t put on a show. They just got the job done. When I walked back into the VIP lounge, Chloe was half-kneeling beside my dad’s chair, adjusting a men’s cashmere scarf around his neck. “This color brings out your complexion beautifully. When you wear this out, Mr. Sterling, everyone will immediately know you have impeccable taste.” My dad was smiling so hard he looked ten years younger. The standard stock handbag had already been placed next to a luxury shopping bag. The iPad was paused on the final confirmation screen. Seeing me walk in, Chloe immediately slid the iPad across the table toward me. “Sweetie, done with your phone call?” “Come on, just type in the verification code.” I sat down, refusing to look at her. “You don’t need to worry about the original order anymore.” Her fingers stiffened. I spoke slowly and deliberately: “Harper Evans just secured the limited edition bag for me.” “Oh, and while I was out there, I went ahead and pre-ordered three new VIP-exclusive pieces through her.” Chapter 4 Chloe’s face dropped instantly. My dad’s hand, holding his champagne flute, froze in mid-air. But Chloe was quick on her feet. She stared at me for two seconds before letting out a sharp laugh. “Sweetie, I think you’re a little confused.” “VIP-exclusive pieces aren’t something you can just click a button online and order.” I looked her dead in the eye. “That’s exactly why I didn’t order them online.” The smile vanished from her face. “Harper Evans overstepped her boundaries and poached a client. I will be reporting this to the Store Manager immediately.” “Be my guest.” I picked up my phone and opened the confirmation text I had just received. “But before you do that, you might want to figure out how you’re going to explain your little ‘Client hesitating’ system note.” Chloe’s composure finally shattered. My dad, completely lost, frowned and asked: “What note?” Chloe immediately pivoted to him, her voice dripping with victimhood. “Mr. Sterling, I was just drafting some preliminary notes based on our conversation.” “I think this young lady might have misunderstood my intentions.” She was finally willing to drop the “sweetie” act. Too bad it was too late. My dad looked at me, his face turning thunderous. “What exactly are you trying to pull?” “I’m picking up the bag.” “Pick up what bag?! Didn’t we agree this one is a better fit?” “Agreed with who?” “With me.” I let out a scoff. “Then buy it for yourself.” My dad looked as if I had slapped him across the face in public. His voice dropped to a menacing growl: “Mia Sterling, don’t you forget that every single penny you spend comes from this family.” “The money I’m spending is from the account my mother explicitly authorized me to use.” “Is your mother’s money not my money?!” Hearing that, a glint of smug triumph flashed in Chloe’s eyes. She pushed the iPad closer to my dad. “Mr. Sterling, actually, if the secondary household contact signs a supplemental waiver, we might be able to push through a special override. After all, you and Ms. Sterling are husband and wife.” My dad held out his hand. “Give me your phone.” I didn’t move. He repeated himself, louder this time: “Give me the verification code.” “Why should I?” “Because I am your father.” He surged out of his chair and lunged to grab my phone from my hand. I leaned back, dodging him. His hand swiped empty air, and his face twisted in fury. Chloe let out a soft, dramatic sigh. “Ms. Sterling, your father is just trying to do what’s best for your family.” “So many young girls these days are so sheltered, they think they can make all the decisions themselves.” “But when it comes to major financial purchases, it’s really best to let the adults handle it.” I glared at her. “When you say ‘major financial purchase,’ are you talking about my mother’s bag… or the massive commission you’re about to make on this standard stock item?” Chloe’s smile twitched violently. “You shouldn’t view Sales Advisors as being so materialistic.” “Then open your commission tier sheet and show it to me.” She shut her mouth. Boiling with rage, my dad slammed his hand onto the table. “Enough!” “I came out here today in a good mood to spend time with you, and you insist on throwing a tantrum and making a scene?!” I looked at him. “Spend time with me?” “Are you saying you didn’t?” “Your mother was too busy, so I carved time out of my schedule to bring you here. And you have the nerve to give me an attitude?” For the first time in my life, I felt like I was looking at a complete stranger. Growing up, he had always been the gentle, loving father of the house. He was the dad who warmed up milk for me before my finals. The dad who cried at my graduation, saying his little girl was all grown up. But now, he was sitting intimately close to another woman. Using my mother’s hard-earned luxury allocations to play the big shot. And telling me to shut my mouth. Sensing an opening, Chloe slid the iPad right in front of my face. “Ms. Sterling, please don’t put your father in a difficult position.” “Just type in the code, and we can put all this behind us.” I looked down at the blinking cursor in the input box. Suddenly, I smiled. “We can’t put this behind us.” The sound of hurried footsteps echoed outside the door. A man in a sharp, dark suit strode into the room, followed closely by Harper. Chloe instantly snapped to attention, her posture rigid. “Mr. Davis.” The Store Manager, Mr. Davis, didn’t even acknowledge her. He walked straight up to me. “Ms. Sterling. I am so incredibly sorry. The VIP Concierge Desk just alerted me to a critical system anomaly.” Chloe’s face drained of all color, turning a sickly white. My dad sat frozen in shock. Mr. Davis continued: “Your mother’s order has currently been placed under Maximum Security Lockdown.” “Until a full compliance audit is completed, no one—absolutely no one—has the authority to alter it.”
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