Chapter 137 The Necklace is Just Compensation
"Who are you?" one of the women asked instinctively, neither of them recognizing Melissa.
Melissa didn't answer. She went on as if they hadn't spoken. "That Lunar Tear necklace wasn't a gift for Bianca. It was compensation. They have no relationship. The person Terrence really likes is me."
To prove it, she pulled out her phone, enlarged a photo of Terrence on the screen, and all but shoved it in their faces.
"Look. I have pictures of Terrence."
"Wait… that guy really does look like Mr. Anderson," one of the women from the art exhibition said, hesitating.
"Is this for real? The necklace was compensation? I knew it. There's no way Mr. Anderson would go for someone like Bianca—not with her messy personal life."
Melissa smoothed her expression and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I never wanted to make my relationship with Terrence public. But I'm worried someone might use his name for things they shouldn't."
The two women by the sink were already halfway convinced. Melissa softened her voice. "Could you help me clear this up?"
With Terrence's reputation on the line, of course they wanted to stay on Melissa's good side.
The photo was clear, taken from an angle that suggested intimacy. It was enough to make them believe she was close to him.
"Of course. Don't worry. We don't like that trashy woman Bianca either."
Melissa smiled, satisfied.
Meanwhile, Jasmine pushed a homemade lunch box across the table toward Bianca.
"Bianca, my cooking isn't amazing or anything. Don't judge me too hard." She lowered her head, a shy smile playing on her lips, though her eyes held a flicker of hope.
"Of course not."
Bianca opened the box. Golden cheese melted slowly over fluffy pasta. The sauce was rich and fragrant. Beside it sat garlic bread toasted to a perfect crisp, and a bright salad of fresh greens. Just looking at it made her want to dig in.
Bianca looked up at Jasmine, surprised. "I didn't know you could cook like this."
She picked up a fork, twirled up a bite of pasta, and tasted it carefully.
Then she nodded, impressed. "This is really good."
Jasmine smiled faintly—until she remembered the forum post. Her smile faltered, souring into something bitter.
Ever since Bianca mentioned that forum, Jasmine had been checking it during her free time.
That was how she'd seen the latest thread.
"Bianca… did Mr. Anderson give you a necklace last night?" she asked carefully.
Bianca looked at her, a little surprised. "How did you know?"
"Look." Jasmine turned her phone around to show Bianca the post.
"Someone's saying the necklace Mr. Anderson gave you was compensation. They're claiming you're just trying to get attention. That you're using him for something shady."
The post read like fact, as if it had really happened. But Bianca knew better. It was all lies.
Her fingers tightened around her fork. When she looked up, her lips curved into a cold smile.
"Looks like plenty of people are hoping I'll crash and burn."
"They're awful. Why are they targeting you? You haven't done anything. You keep to yourself at school. But they just won't leave you alone."
"It's fine."
When she'd deliberately made herself look plain, no one cared. Now that she'd stopped hiding, certain people couldn't stand it.
She lowered her eyes, fingertips tapping lightly on the screen.
Empty explanations wouldn't help. Hard evidence would. And as for the people spreading lies? None of them were getting away with it.
"Don't worry. I already had someone pull the security footage from the art exhibition. It'll prove the necklace wasn't compensation—and that I'm not trying to get attention."
Jasmine's eyes lit up with admiration.
"Bianca… when will I ever be like you? You never panic. I'm such a coward. Whenever something happens, I just cry. I never know how to fix it. I always wait for you to help me. I'm useless, aren't I?"
Her light dimmed. She sank into herself, weighed down by her own thoughts.
Bianca looked up, her tone flat. "If you look down on yourself, nothing's ever going to change."
Jasmine froze. For some reason, she thought of that bloody scene at the Rodriguez Mansion.
Her heart raced—but she wasn't afraid.
If she knew what the problem was, why did she keep putting herself down instead of fixing it?
Back in the small town, she'd suffered just as much—maybe more. So why couldn't she handle things now? Just because Blair was her cousin, did that mean she had to take it?
Jasmine's gaze hardened. She clenched her fists. "I'm going to be braver. I won't rely on other people anymore. I'll stand on my own."
"When you actually do it, then tell me." Bianca set the lunch box aside, her expression softening just slightly.
Jasmine whispered to herself, 'I will. I promise.'
The rumors spread through campus like wildfire. Some gossiped. Some worried. Some gloated.
Melissa was definitely gloating.
The shadow over her face had lifted. She wore a faint smile as she walked toward the school gate in a good mood.
In her hand—nails painted with pearlescent polish—she carried a luxury-brand shopping bag. The paper rustled softly with each step; to Melissa, it was the sweetest sound in the world.
She had savored her first taste of power. And she wanted more.
The bag had been a gift from the two girls she'd met in the bathroom earlier.
Melissa understood what they wanted—and she was happy to accept.
Outside the school, a black Bentley sat parked near the curb. Silent and still, yet it drew eyes all the same.
The moment Melissa saw the car, her eyes lit up.
She took a step forward—then her body trembled.
The memory of those ten days of pain came flooding back. Her face went pale. Her lips quivered.
But then the luxury bag swung into her line of sight. The one the underclassmen had given her.
Desire and fear warred inside her. She felt like she was teetering on the edge of a cliff.
In the end, desire won.
She took a deep breath, loosened the silk scarf at her collar, and put on a deliberately sultry expression. Swaying her hips, she walked toward the Bentley.
Melissa pretended to stumble, nearly falling against the car door. She made herself look weak and helpless.
"Mr. Anderson, I think someone's trying to scam us," Barry said with a frown, glancing out the window and spotting Melissa clinging to the car.
Terrence looked up lazily, taking in her entire performance.
Disgust flickered in his eyes as he thought of the background check Barry had run on her.
No connections. But she played at being high society. Spent her college years bullying Bianca.
His frown deepened, a cold rage simmering beneath the surface.
If he weren't worried about upsetting Bianca, the bullying alone would have been enough—Melissa would have paid for it already.
"Find somewhere quiet and teach her a lesson," Terrence said coldly. He paused. "And record her crimes."
Barry nodded and rolled down the window.
"Miss, move aside."
The second the window lowered, Melissa flinched, her eyes darting nervously.
Barry gave her one warning—then pushed the door open with force.
Melissa lost her balance and stumbled backward.