The glass doors of the boutique swished open with a soft hum as Lena and Benjamin stepped inside, the cool, fragrant air of luxury immediately washing over them. Lena’s eyes swept across the expansive space, taking in the rows upon rows of carefully arranged designer clothing and the sparkling chandeliers. She felt a familiar thrill, a sense of dominance, like stepping into a kingdom she inherently belonged to.As her eyes traveled further, she caught sight of a man descending the staircase, dressed in an impeccably tailored suit. Lena’s eyes narrowed, and she nudged Benjamin lightly, her voice low.“Benjamin… look at that man,” she whispered, her tone carrying a mixture of curiosity and irritation. “That must be the one the manager spoke of, the so-called VIP. That’s him.”Benjamin followed her gaze, his expression shifting to one of mild amusement mixed with skepticism. He studied the man from a distance, then let out a short, dismissive laugh. “That’s him?” he said, his tone d

The tension in the boutique had reached a boiling point, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfumes, new fabric, and simmering anger. Lena stood frozen for only a brief second after her scream, her chest heaving, her eyes locked onto Connor’s calm and unnerving presence. The silence hung between them for what felt like an eternity, but it was broken by Connor’s quiet voice.“Lena…” he began, his tone sounding almost patient, “I am not a thief. I am not trying to steal anything. I never had that intention.”Lena’s nostrils flared, and she took a slow step closer, her fingers curling into fists. She barely spared him a glance, much less a moment to continue. “Do not try to justify yourself! Do not even attempt to speak, because your words mean nothing to me right now! You think you can walk into a place like this, hold designer clothes in your hands, and I’m supposed to believe you are innocent? Don’t waste my time!”Connor opened his mouth again, beginning a reasoned explan

Victoria stood a few steps away from Connor, her phone still in her hand, the screen glowing faintly as if she had paused midway through dialing. Her brows were drawn together, not in doubt, but in irritation, as though the very presence of Connor in the boutique offended her sense of order.She let out a sharp scoff, folding her arms across her chest and turning slightly so her voice was loud enough. “There is no designer called Christian Jack. None. He’s making it up, and now he’s wasting everyone’s time.”Her eyes slid back to Connor, sharp and mocking. “You really are shameless,” she added coldly. “First you pretend you can afford Kyte Men, now you invent imaginary designers. What’s next? Are you going to tell us the shoes on your feet are worth a fortune too?”A faint scoff escaped Connor before he could stop himself. It wasn’t loud, but in the tense silence of the boutique, it sounded almost defiant.Lena caught it immediately. Her head snapped toward him. “What are you scoffi

Connor did not move an inch, his calm stance in the middle of the boutique almost unnatural considering the chaos around him. The murmurs, the whispers, and Victoria’s frantic movements barely registered. He simply stood, his shirt perfectly adjusted. “Why would I escape?” Connor asked finally, his voice calm, steady, and unhurried. He tilted his head slightly, eyes scanning Victoria before settling on Lena and Benjamin. “I am standing right here, openly, under your scrutiny. I have done nothing wrong. You—yes, all of you—are the ones creating this circus, this drama, but for what? I am an innocent man in a room full of wealthy people making assumptions.”Victoria blinked at him, caught between skepticism and curiosity. Her arms were crossed, but there was a flicker of doubt in her eyes as she watched Connor remain motionless. Even Lena, standing in her designer heels, had that rare moment of pause as she absorbed his words, though she quickly scoffed and shook her head.“You re

Lena folded her arms tightly across her chest, her eyes narrowing as she watched Connor stand there calmly, unbothered, in front of the two police officers who had just arrived. Lena’s voice cut through the room sharply, a whip of indignation. “You see? This is exactly what I’m talking about! The officers are wasting their time interrogating him because, surprise, there is no single business under the name Connor Drayton! None. Zero. How can you even take this man seriously?” She tilted her head back slightly, letting her words hang in the air like a judgmental decree. “There is no proof, no company, no registration, nothing! He’s a fraud! He has no occupation that even comes close to explaining how he could possibly purchase a shirt worth a million dollars!”Connor, standing there with his hands relaxed at his sides, let out a soft scoff, almost imperceptible but loud enough to pierce Lena’s ranting. “Officers,” he said calmly, tilting his head slightly, his voice even, smooth, and