The Masked Heiress: Don't Mess With Her
er gaze landed on Yelena.
. "She's probably here to stroke her va
sn't she just go back there? Does she still t
let that happen. Now, don't let her ruin our day. We're here to find you some fabulous new outfits." With tha
ady to let the moment pas
kery. "Yelena, what a surprise running into you here! Are you sure you
fabric of a dress she'd been considering. She never would h
Yelena said flatly, barely sparing Sonya a gla
into a sneer. "But honestly, Yelena, can you afford anythi
t her focus on the clothes, r
egance practically screamed exclusivity. A twinge of envy surged through her. Sh
ngly sweet edge as she stepped closer. "I'm just
gripping her arm. The motion sent coffee splashing
was a one-of-a-kind piece, a
her parents' care and pride. It wasn't just clothing; it was
, her fingers brushing the fabric as if
s a piece of her. A symbol of her parents' love
legance now tarnished. Yelena stared at the mark, her expression unreadabl
ally, pressing a hand to her chest. "I
lled out a crumpled bill. She flicked it dismissively toward Y
yourself a new coat-if that's even possible where you shop.
on the fallen bill before retur
in your little village, that must be a small
a flicker of indignation crossing her face. Then, without a word, Yelena
o stunned disbelief as the cof
er mascara, and unmoored her false eyelashes, leav
ou
assment warring in her expression. She glared at Yelena, her
k of fabric samples in her hands, only to freeze in th
r composure unraveling with each st
l wretch! Have you com
er. She dropped her voice into a trembling, wounded tone. "Mom, I only tried to mak
out a crisp stack of bills. "Now that we have nothing to do with each other anymore, you can't squeeze money out of us! Here! Take t
t enough," she said, her voice a
with fury. Not enough? H
razor-sharp. "This is a Moda Style limited edition coat. The
om you? You must think I'm a fool. Don't pretend your bargain-bin tr
iana's frustration. "We're in Moda Style," she said simply, gesturi
t's verify it and put an end
cision, her fingers tracing the fabric and label. "This trench coat is indeed a Moda
blow. "Additionally, given the delicate nature of the materials
fidence unraveling. The coat was g
cleaning. Put it on my card. I don't have time for this nonsense." She thrust h
t. A few moments passed, and then another, until she returned with an ap
aring at it as though the problem lay in its surface. "There should be over a hundred t
ver. "I'm afraid not, ma'am. The cleaning fee f
ose in disbelief, her words sharp enough
tion, stepped forward. "This is outr
ansparent, ma'am. The materials require specialized care, hence the price; an
her anger seeping through
leaning fee? If two hundred thousand is too much, there's always another option." She paused, her gaze cold and unr
er. "How dare you? Do you think we're as destitute
phone and dialed Jonathan, the one per
ce she expected, Jonathan's voice roared through the receiver. "Where
tone struck her like a thunderclap. Her grip on the phone falt
happened? What