Avah's pov
Four months later.....
A lot had changed in four months. My business was up and running, thriving even. We had named it Avah’s Choice, though most clients didn’t seem to care about the name. Their only concern was that we sold high-end and one-of-a-kind fashion pieces.
They wanted luxury. Exclusivity.
At first, I didn’t understand their obsession with buying expensive clothes until Sally explained it to me.
Sally had worked in Roman’s company as a receptionist before joining me. She was sharp, efficient, and knew exactly how to handle the kind of clientele we catered to. From day one, she and Derrick helped me establish everything, and honestly, I wouldn’t have survived without them.
"To them, it’s not just about fashion," Sally had told me once, as I watched a woman gleefully drop a million dollars on a custom dress. "It’s about power. Status. The fact that no one else can have what they own."
It had taken me time to adjust to that mentality, but now, I understood it. And I had learned how to navigate it.
I was reviewing the latest shipment, admiring a sleek, handcrafted dress from Paris, when Sally burst into my office, looking slightly frazzled.
"We have a problem," she said breathlessly.
I raised an eyebrow. "What kind of problem?"
She sighed. "Two women are fighting over the same dress."
I blinked. "Fighting?"
"Rich-people fighting," she clarified. "Lots of passive-aggressive insults and thinly veiled threats."
I sighed and stood up, smoothing out my fitted dress. "Alright, let’s go see what’s happening."
As we stepped onto the main floor, I spotted the commotion near the center display.
Two women, both elegantly dressed, stood in front of a mannequin wearing one of our most expensive pieces. A breathtaking white gown embroidered with delicate gold patterns. The dress shimmered under the boutique’s soft lighting, the kind of piece that was meant to turn heads at a gala or a high-society event.
One of the women, a blonde in sky-high heels, crossed her arms. "I saw it first."
The brunette beside her scoffed. "Seeing it first doesn’t mean you get to buy it. I already told my assistant to process the payment."
Sally leaned in and whispered, "That’s Cassandra and Valery. Their families practically run in the same circles, so this is more about ego than the dress."
Of course.
I plastered on a polite smile and stepped forward. "Ladies, is there a problem here?"
They both turned to me, eyes narrowing like I was a judge in some high-profile case.
"The problem," Cassandra said, "is that I intended to buy this dress, but Valery seems to think she has some sort of claim over it."
Valery lifted her chin. "That’s because I do. Avah, I’m sure you understand that in fashion, actual purchase takes precedence over mere intention."
I glanced at Sally, who subtly shook her head.
Neither woman had actually paid yet.
Ah. So they both wanted it but were playing a power game.
And the dress? It cost two million dollars.
I exhaled slowly. Time to handle this carefully.
Both wealthy, both powerful, both glaring at each other like this was a battlefield.
And in the middle of it all was the dress.
I had seen people argue over exclusive items before, but something about this felt more...intense.
I gave them both a calm, practiced smile. The kind I had mastered over the last four months of running Avah’s Choice. "Ladies, this is an exclusive piece, and unfortunately, we only have one in stock. Perhaps we can find something equally stunning for whoever doesn’t get it?"
Cassandra’s sharp blue eyes flickered toward me. "No. I want this one."
Valery’s lips curled into a smirk. "And so do I. But unlike you, I was actually about to pay for it."
Cassandra let out a soft, incredulous laugh, shaking her head. "How cute. You think you can outbid me?"
Valery crossed her arms. "I don’t need to outbid you. I just need to buy it before you do."
Tension thickened, drawing the attention of a few other shoppers who pretended to browse but were very clearly eavesdropping.
Sally, standing beside me, muttered under her breath, "This is getting ridiculous."
She wasn’t wrong.
But I had learned something in the past few months, never intervene too soon. With these kinds of clients, pride was a stronger currency than money.
I stayed silent, watching, waiting.
Then it happened.
Cassandra tilted her chin up, eyes gleaming with unshaken confidence. "Fine. I’ll pay double."
The boutique went completely silent.
Valery’s smirk dropped. "What?"
Cassandra shrugged gracefully. "Four million dollars. I assume you take card?"
I kept my expression neutral even though I was internally screaming.
Four million. For a dress.
Valery’s lips parted like she wanted to argue, but no words came out. It was clear she hadn't expected Cassandra to escalate this far.
Sally, standing behind me, discreetly cleared her throat. "We… do take card."
Valery clenched her jaw, then turned toward me, her expression carefully composed but her pride obviously wounded. "Congratulations, Avah. You just made four million dollars off a single sale."
I blinked.
Wait.
She said my name. Twice.
Before I could react, she spun on her heel and walked out, her assistant scrambling after her.
Cassandra, meanwhile, turned to me with a knowing smile. "I’ll have my assistant finalize the payment. Let’s get this packed up."
I nodded automatically, my mind still turning.
She knows my name.
I studied her as she gracefully pulled out her phone, making a call, her presence radiating confidence and power.
Had we met before?
Sally leaned in and whispered, "I think she knows exactly who you are. But you don’t know her."
And I hated that.
Cassandra turned to me with a slow, knowing smile, her sharp blue eyes studying me like I was some fascinating new discovery.
"Congratulations on your business, by the way," she said smoothly, her tone light but laced with something I couldn’t quite place. "I had to come and see for myself. I'm glad I did."
She let out a soft scoff, adjusting the strap of her designer handbag before she turned on her heel and strode out of the store, her assistant scrambling to keep up.
The door clicked shut, leaving behind a heavy silence.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
Sally muttered, "Well, that was dramatic."
I barely heard her. My mind was still turning.
She knows me.
And not just in a casual, I’ve-heard-of-you way.
No.
That was personal.
I clenched my fingers slightly.
I should have said something back. Should have asked her outright how she knew me. But the moment had slipped past, and now she was gone.
Sally nudged me lightly. "You okay?"
I schooled my expression into one of calm professionalism. "I’m fine. Just…curious."
Sally gave me a look, clearly sensing there was more I wasn’t saying.
She wasn’t wrong.
Because something about Cassandra bothered me.
And I had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time I saw her.