The men’s bags were quite simple, without the glitz and glamour of the women’s section, predominantly in three colors: gray, white, and black.
Under the bright lights, a black briefcase caught Nia Mitchell’s eye. It was simple yet dignified, modest yet powerful, embodying the calm and composed demeanor of a leader.
It seemed perfect for Uncle Peary. Without much thought, Nia picked up the bag from the shelf.
"Miss, your taste is impeccable; this bag just arrived this morning," said the salesperson as they approached, though inwardly, they were sneering. This person’s entire outfit isn’t even worth three hundred USD, and she dares to come here to buy a bag? If we hadn’t seen her come in with Miss Peary earlier, we wouldn’t even bother with her!
Nia glanced at the salesperson, her face beaming with a smile.
"This bag is indeed beautiful. I would like to purchase it."
She clenched her teeth. This bag cost way more than what Evelyn Peary had told her to spend. She tried to subtly count the zeros on the price tag. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵⁂𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮⁂𝓷𝓮𝓽
Six zeros. This bag cost over eight hundred thousand dollars!
As Nia grappled with her indecisiveness, someone suddenly walked up and snatched the bag from her hands.
"This bag isn’t too bad."
Belinda Swan smiled as she carefully examined the bag, then turned to look at the middle-aged woman standing behind her.
"It’s indeed beautiful. May I ask who Miss Swan intends to gift it to?" said Phoebe Harris, her face shining brightly with appeasement.
"Of course, it’s for Maxwell. As you know, I’m the only daughter-in-law recognized by the Peary Clan."
Belinda Swan looked at the bag in her hands with joy, falling more in love with it with each passing second.
"I’ll take this bag. I’m going to pay for it now."
Upon hearing Belinda Swan’s words, the salesperson immediately hurried over, ready to lead the way.
Nia, seeing this, furrowed her brows.
"I saw this bag first, and I was planning to buy it."
Nia reached out to stop them, her eyes blazing with anger.
"I’m paying for it right now, and it’s currently in my hands. Seeing it first doesn’t make it yours," Belinda Swan replied softly, her smile never fading, appearing gentle and generous.
It was hard to believe this was the same person who had stormed into the Royal Bay Villa just a few days ago.
"You snatched it from me." Nia frowned. If Belinda hadn’t snatched it, Nia would have already paid for it by now.
"I didn’t snatch it. You hadn’t said you were buying it. If you wanted this bag, you should have spoken up when I took it. Why wait until I’m about to pay...?" Belinda Swan said, looking utterly innocent, as if Nia were the one in the wrong.
The salesperson was shocked that this seemingly shabby girl truly intended to buy it, but... offending Miss Swan was unthinkable.
"Miss," the salesperson said, after weighing the pros and cons, "it was actually Miss Swan who noticed this bag first."
Belinda Swan was very pleased with the salesperson’s words. Hmph, Nia Mitchell, she thought, today I’ll make you understand that an ugly duckling will always be an ugly duckling. Even if you’re right, in the face of power, you’re utterly wrong.
"I clearly saw it first!"
"Nia Mitchell," Belinda Swan said, looking at her with a smile, her expression one of perfect understanding. "I’m buying this bag to give to Maxwell, with my own money. What about you?"
Nia Mitchell is buying this men’s briefcase; she must intend to give it to Maxwell Peary as well, Belinda Swan mused. But the crucial difference between us is that she, Nia Mitchell, plans to use *his*—Maxwell Peary’s—money. Can that truly be considered a gift?
"Belinda Swan, you think you’ve won, don’t you?"