The saleswoman froze, caught in a storm of rich-kid drama that was quickly spiraling out of control.
Her eyes darted between the furious Ryan and the cool, unbothered Aurora. For a second, it seed like she might actually obey his command—until Aurora chuckled.
It was a soft, almost pitying sound.
"Oh," she said, tilting her head, "did you just realize your ego’s smaller than your height?"
A few nearby custors gasped. Soone stifled a laugh.
Ryan’s face turned bright red. He jabbed his finger at the saleswoman again, voice rising.
"I said kick her out! Or I’ll cancel my mbership of this store! Do you know who I am?"
Aurora arched a brow, her smile returning like a blade hidden in silk. "What are you trying to say, Ryan? You are acting as if you are so big shot?"
Ryan slamd his hand down on the nearest glass counter.
"I am a big shot! I am the son of the richest man in New York City!"
The woman on his arm giggled, trying to fan the flas. "That’s right, baby. Show them who you are."
But Aurora just laughed again, shaking her head.
"If you’re really so rich," she said, "then buy all 100 of those ultra-premium cards the mall launched last week. Shouldn’t be a problem for the son of New York’s richest man, right?"
The crowd shifted, intrigued. Even the saleswoman blinked, clearly surprised.
Ryan froze.
Each ultra-premium card cost $1,000 a month in fees. One card was already luxury-level access.
But 100? That ant $100,000 per month—$1.2 million a year. And they weren’t refundable or cancelable.
Ryan’s monthly allowance was only $200,000.
Buying them would wipe out half his money. Every. Single. Month.
He couldn’t even pretend to afford it.
Still, before he could say anything, the woman beside him blinked at Aurora, completely missing the deeper implications.
"What kind of dumb challenge is that?" she sneered. "She’s just jealous, Ryan. Show her she’s nothing. Slap her with your wallet!"
Then she turned to Aurora, sneering. "You b*tch. Wait and see how Ryan puts you in your place!"
But Ryan still wasn’t moving.
His jaw tightened. His body locked. His lips parted—but no words ca out.
He stood there, motionless, a statue of wounded pride and crumbling confidence.
Finally, after a long pause, he turned toward the woman on his arm and said stiffly,
"Let’s just go. I’m not interested anymore."
The woman blinked. "What? No way! You can’t just walk away! She humiliated us!"
Ryan looked away. His voice was barely audible. "Forget it. Let’s go."
"No!" she insisted, stomping her heel. "We need to teach her a lesson!"
But he was already cornered, and her demands weren’t helping.
The eyes around them were like hot needles on his skin. He could feel people recording. Whispering. Laughing.
"I forgot my card," he muttered through clenched teeth. "Can’t buy the mberships now."
The woman, still clueless, offered eagerly,
"I’ll go get it for you, baby! I rember where you keep it!"
Ryan shut his eyes briefly, his head throbbing. "No."
That’s when Spencer, who had been quiet all this ti, finally stepped forward with a sly smile.
"I could call the bank and ask them to approve a transaction without the card for you."
Ryan’s head snapped toward him.
His hatred boiled over, but he couldn’t show it.
"There’s no need," he hissed. "Actually, I rembered. I do have my credit card with ."
Aurora clicked her tongue, arms folded.
"Really?" she said. "Then what are you waiting for? Or... don’t tell you’re too broke to even pretend you’re rich."
Ryan’s eyes darkened.
Aurora leaned closer, her tone sharp as ice.
"If you can’t even afford 100 cards, maybe you really are illegitimate."
She turned to Spencer. "Am I wrong?"
Spencer shook his head solemnly. "No. That sounds about right. Illegitimate."
The word hit like a bullet. Ryan flinched.
His pride scread in protest. He reached into his designer wallet, his fingers trembling, and pulled out his black credit card with a grip so tight his knuckles went white.
"I’ll show you," he growled.
With a bleeding heart and bruised ego, he marched to the counter and barked at the store manager.
"I want to buy 100 ultra-premium cards. Right now."
The manager hesitated, stunned, but nodded. "Of course, sir. One mont..."
Several minutes passed as a bundle of elegant, dark-plated cards was carefully prepared and handed over to Ryan.
Ryan stood still, holding them like a stack of bricks had just been shoved into his arms.
He turned back toward Aurora, trying to recover his swagger.
"I bought them," he said. "Now, apologize. Otherwise, I will use my authority to get you kicked out."
Aurora rolled her eyes. "And when exactly did I agree to that?"
Ryan blinked. "What?"
"You heard ," she said calmly. "I never said I’d apologize. That was just you fantasizing."
The woman with Ryan gaped. "You scamd him!"
Aurora smirked. "Nope. He scamd himself. I never made any promises."
Ryan’s face twisted in rage. "You—!"
He held up the bundle of cards like a weapon and stord toward the saleswoman.
"I’m using my authority as a platinum-level mber. Kick them both out. Now."
The saleswoman looked at him, her face pale. Then she slowly shook her head.
"I’m sorry, sir," she said. "But... I can’t."
Ryan’s voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "What do you an you can’t?"
"That...Miss Aurora is the owner of this shopping mall." The saleswoman said cautiously.
Ryan stood frozen as the saleswoman’s words echoed through the air like a bomb going off.
"That...Miss Aurora is the owner of this shopping mall."
The store fell into an eerie silence.
Ryan blinked once. Then twice.
His mouth opened, then shut again like a fish gasping for air. Finally, he let out a loud, disbelieving laugh—sharp and slightly unhinged.
"You’ve got to be kidding ," he said, his voice rising.
"What is this? So kind of scam? You... you’re lying, right? There’s no way she owns this place!"
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