?Chapter 125:


    Rosanna stiffened, her face draining of color. “You knew I was there?” As realization struck, panic twisted her features. “It was you! You must have worked with the shop owner — you switched my bracelet, didn’t you?”


    Rather than answer outright, Maia simply smiled, letting the silence confirm everything.


    Losing what littleposure she had left, Rosanna sprang to her feet, jabbing a trembling finger at Maia. “She’s the thief! She stole my bracelet!”


    The room erupted in low gasps and hurried whispers.


    “Rosanna, is it true? Is that really the bracelet that’s been all over the inte?”


    “You can’t be serious. There’s no way you actually own something that valuable.”


    “Fake or not, it’s not even worth the attention. Let’s not waste our breath.”


    Across the room, Rosanna’s vision blurred with rage.


    She knew better than anyone — Maia would never stage a show like this over a cheap knockoff.


    Inside, the truth hit her like a blow. Maia had crushed herst shot at striking it rich.


    Everything Rosanna had dreamed of… Maia had snatched away without a second thought.


    “Maia, hand over the bracelet!” Rosanna shouted, her mind clouded with desperation. All she could think about was getting the bracelet back.


    That bracelet was worth 150 million dors.


    She hurled herself toward Maia, reaching out to snatch it, but Maia slipped out of her grasp with ease.


    Around them, the socialites froze in shock. Never had they seen Rosanna so unhinged, so desperate.


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    Was it possible that the bracelet was genuine? If it truly was the legendary piece everyone whispered about — the one valued at 150 million — then they would have struck gold. It did not matter whether it was authentic or not. Whoever seized it first woulde out on top.


    Within seconds, greed took over. Like a pack of rabid wolves, the socialites lunged at Maia, desperate to rip the bracelet from her wrist.


    The chaos knocked Rosanna off bnce. She hit the floor hard, and no matter how she iled or screamed, no one bothered to help her.


    Chaos swallowed the room whole. Friends turned into enemies in an instant. With a flick of her wrist, Maia tossed a bracelet onto the couch — a piece she had prepared in advance, matching the original in both shade and design. The private room was poorly lit, making it impossible for anyone to notice if it was the same bracelet she had worn before. Not that it mattered. All that filled their minds was the need to im it, and within seconds, the room erupted into chaos.


    Using the uproar to her advantage, Maia quietly slipped out.


    At the door, she turned back to nce at the so-called socialites, now red-faced and even physically fighting over the bracelet. Her lips curled into a cold, mocking smile.


    Without another nce, she turned, pushed the door open, and walked away without hesitation.


    At the far end of the club’s hallway, a woman with dramatic makeup floated by, her attention snagging on a tall, maic figure.


    He lounged with effortless ease against the wall, a cigarette dangling between his elegant fingers.


    His eyes were slightly lowered, and a thin stream of white smoke escaped from his lips. The dazzling neon lights cast a kaleidoscope of colors over his sharp, chiseled profile.


    The shifting neon lights painted his sculpted features in a thousand dazzling hues, making him look more cinematic than any heartthrob on screen.


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