Fiona and her two friends chattered like monkeys as they entered the large clothes mall, a retail fashion kingdom predominantly owned by Ewan.
Being associated with someone like Ewan was enough to inflate Fiona’s sense of pride, and she strutted through the store like a peacock flaunting its glorious feathers.
The employees, having been well-informed of her significance—which included a not-so-subtle reminder of what she could do to their jobs if agitated—hurried to cater to her whims.
"Ma’am, what do you want?" Five workers asked in unison, their heads bowed as if they were in a royal court. They have been oriented accordingly by the higher ups about the problematic fiancée of Ewan Giacometti.
The sight was amusing and sad at the same time. Fiona smiled with a smug satisfaction, her eyes dancing over racks filled with clothes, shoes, and dazzling accessories.
She sighed dramatically, as if she were gazing at old friends rather than inanimate objects.
"I’m attending the grand gala celebrating the city’s centennial tomorrow evening. So, I want the best gown, the best shoes, the best of everything! Can you do that?"
Her friends burrowed into her side like two anxious puppies, trying to remind her of their presence, or perhaps to steal some of the spotlight.
"And of course, for my friends here. You know the grade of clothes to give them, I believe..."
She waved her hand dismissively in their direction, as if she had just tossed them a reality check.
Her friends subtly rolled their eyes at the snide suggestion, but since they weren’t footing the bill, they decided to tag along, determined to enjoy the fashion expenditure.
The workers, ever eager to please, led them to the grade A section, where the extravagant treasures were stored.
"You can rest here, ma’am, while we bring out the clothes. They will serve you tea and some biscuits," One worker said, her tone almost adoring.
Fiona reveled in the VIP treatment, taking a seat as if she were royalty. Her friends followed suit, though they remained less enthusiastic about the treatment, for when the tray of treats arrived, Fiona held it hostage.
"Be content that you’re allowed on this floor. That should suffice for you," She declared, taking a bite of her biscuit as if she were sampling the finest gourmet cuisine. The delicious morsel melted in her mouth, and she sighed in delight, completely unfazed by her friends’ frowns.
As she watched the gowns being paraded in front of her, something caught her eye. Another worker was deep in conversation with a client who remained out of sight, and from the way the worker spoke—fascinated yet respectful—it piqued Fiona’s curiosity.
"Who is the other client on this floor? I thought this area was cleared off until I’m done picking dresses," She interjected, unable to conceal her irritation.
The head worker stuttered, panic flashing in her eyes. "She is also a VIP client, according to the manager. So, we let her stay."
Fiona furrowed her brow. Who was this client, this mysterious figure daring to share her privilege?
She stood up, smoothed the non-existent creases on her gown (for what could possibly be wrong with perfection?), and decided it was time to socialize.
Maybe she would recruit this client as a new ally—after all, her current friends were starting to feel more like lackeys than companions.
As she sashayed over to the worker chatting animatedly, Fiona’s plans of commonality were promptly dashed when the curtain of mystery fell away to reveal that the client was none other than Athena, her rival, who the public claimed was the best doctor in the city and, some might whisper, the richest.
Fiona scoffed in disbelief. "What is she doing here?"
The worker, who radiated inexperience, babbled on without any hint of noting Fiona’s identity or anger.
"Oh, miss, you don’t know? This is Doctor Athena, best doctor in our city. Richest, I dare say. One of our most cherished customers. She is..."
"Shut your big mouth if you don’t want to lose your job," Fiona snapped.
The worker’s eyes widened, and she took a hesitant step back, realizing the gravity of her error, realizing who Fiona was. Nᴇw novel chapters are publɪshed on NovᴇlFir(e).nᴇt
Athena, who had witnessed the whole ordeal with barely contained amusement, raised an eyebrow.
Fiona’s friends, who had followed Fiona at a safe distance, eager to see their competition, moved back now, like anxious turtles retreating into their shells. Unable to help it, they had remembered how Athena had humiliated both them and their male friends.
Fiona, noticing this, scoffed. "You both are weaker than I thought! If you choose to remain pathetic still, leave here!"
Athena chuckled, reveling in the awkwardness between the three friends.
Fiona fumed at this, her fists clenched at her sides. "What are you doing here, Athena?"
"To eat," Athena replied simply, her tone dripping with nonchalance before directing the worker to lead the way.
But before the worker could scurry off, Fiona’s voice rang out like a siren. "If you move an inch, idiot, I will make sure you’re fired. And not just that, I’ll ensure you aren’t hired by any other establishment."
The servant turned pale, her fear palpable as she imagined her career spiraling into oblivion.
Athena laughed lightly, shaking her head in disbelief. Really, what kind of nonsense was this?
"Athena, I ask again. What are you doing here? Give me a stupid answer again and I will call the guards to throw you out,"
Athena crossed her arms with mock seriousness. "I’m here to eat, Fiona. Do you have a problem with that?" She met Fiona’s glower with a cool glance, unbothered by the tension.
Fiona swore, before turning on her heel and commanding the workers watching them, to call the manager and the guards.
Five minutes later, Athena found herself surrounded by guards and the manager, Carlos, who seemed to have been summoned for a council of war.
"What is going on here, Dr. Caddels?" he started, straining to contain his annoyance. He knew precisely what was unfolding, but Fiona was the boss’s fiancée; they couldn’t afford to offend her too!
"I’m just here to shop for clothes, Carlos. Is there a problem with that?" Athena replied, her expression refreshingly calm.
Carlos shook his head, trying to play peacemaker. "Have you found a dress yet?"
Athena nodded, shifting aside to reveal a stunning red dress that had Fiona gawking in awe.
How had that exquisite creation not been presented to her yet? Fiona glared at the five workers. They winced under her gaze, their faces paler than they needed to be.
"Good." Carlos muttered before turning to the inexperienced worker.
"Package it for her, so that she can be on her way. She is a busy doctor, who is doing a lot for the city—including Master Ewan’s Town," Carlos commanded, attempting to emphasize Athena’s noble contributions.
Fiona clenched her fists, chewing on his words as if they were the very biscuits she had hoarded earlier. How dare he?
No, she wouldn’t let Athena waltz away unscathed; yes, she was a doctor, but so what?
She was Ewan Giacometti’s fiancée for crying out loud!
"Give me that dress. I want it too," She declared hotly, her voice echoing with a finality that could send shivers down anyone’s spine.
Silence plunged into the room like a heavy curtain falling after a dramatic performance.
"But Ma’am..." Carlos attempted to reason, but Fiona wasn’t having it.
"Give me that dress or lose your job!" She barked, her eyes blazing.
"What’s going on here!" A voice bellowed then, shattering the tension.