?Chapter 1684:
Violette strode over to the sofa opposite Christina and took a seat, a taunting smile curling across her lips.
“Go ahead and summon the manager. I’m interested to see what tricks you think you have,” she said, her grin widening with heavy mockery. “Even if the manager shows up, you’ll still be escorted out sooner orter.”
Once it was proven that Christina was only pretending to be important, simply removing her wouldn’t satisfy Violette. She intended to drag the humiliation out and make it as public as possible. This woman deserved it for being so foolish and insolent — especially for daring to disregard the Hewitt family.
Not long after, the manager hurried in, slightly out of breath. She was in her forties, average in stature, dressed neatly in professional attire, her long hair pulled back. She carried herself with practiced authority.
Her gaze went straight to Christina — not merely drawn by her striking looks, but by themanding presence she radiated, something that quietly demanded notice. The manager felt a flicker of surprise before quickly redirecting her attention to Violette, whom she recognized immediately as one of the boutique’s VIP clients.
“Miss Hewitt,” the manager said politely.
Violette gave a small nod. “Hello. I believe the card that woman is holding is counterfeit. Please examine it. If it turns out to be fake, I assume you know how to handle the situation.”
The manager inclined her head. “Understood, Miss Hewitt.” She turned to Christina. “May I see your card, ma’am?”
Despite herself, she felt a trace of pity for the young woman. The store’s legal department was ruthless, and if the usation proved true, the consequences could be severe.
“Here.” Christina passed the card over with two fingers, her faceposed as she held out the in gray card.
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The manager examined it carefully, her brows drawing together in confusion. She had never encountered a card like this before. Could it possibly be even more exclusive than anything she had seen?
“See? You’ve never seen a card like that, have you?” Violette scoffed, reading the manager’s expression as confirmation. “I told you she’s a fraud.” In Violette’s mind, the manager’s unfamiliarity was proof enough — a cheap deception. At this point, forcing the woman to apologize wouldn’t even be sufficient. Her arrogance might well earn her a stay in jail.
The manager, unwilling to jump to conclusions, said carefully, “This card requires verification.”
“What’s there to verify? She’s obviously pretending. Call the police and have her arrested,” Irene cut in, rubbing Violette’s shoulders from behind with an ingratiating smile.
“You really are a loyal little follower, aren’t you?” Christina sneered.
Irene exploded, jabbing a finger at Christina as her teeth clenched. “Who are you mocking?”
“Whoever loses their temper is answering the question themselves,” Christina retorted, her grin sharpening.
“You—” Irene snapped, but Violette cut her off. “Enough. Stop embarrassing yourself.”
“Yes,” Irene muttered, lowering her head as resentment tightened her jaw.
Inside, she cursed Violette bitterly. She was the one being humiliated, and not only had Violette failed to defend her — she had ordered her to stay silent in front of everyone. Was Violette deliberately reminding the room that she was nothing more than a disposable subordinate?
The more Irene dwelled on it, the deeper her anger burned. Still, without a foothold among the upper elite, she had no choice but to swallow her rage. If she lost Violette as her stepping stone, she might never gain ess to influential figures like Alban. She just had to endure a little longer — and one day, she would rise high enough to grind Violette beneath her heel.
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