Sophia Moore appeared quite magnanimous. If she hadn’t ntioned thirty thousand USD, everyone might have mistaken her for a kind person, ready to let Nia Mitchell off the hook.
"Thirty thousand? You think your clothes are made of gold, do you?" Contempt filled Nia’s face as she rolled her eyes at Sophia Moore.
"However..." Nia suddenly smiled, her tone shifting. "I am willing to accept your claim for compensation. After all, you insist that your clothes got dirty because of ." Nia was all smiles, her face bright and cheerful.
The corners of the onlookers’ mouths twitched. Has this woman lost her mind? Not fighting back when provoked was bad enough, but for her to so readily accept such an obviously outrageous demand for compensation...
"However, you pushed —everyone saw that. I fell, and my clothes got dirty too. You also need to compensate for my clothes. I’ll give you a discount; let’s call it thirty thousand USD. That makes us even for the clothes. But you still need to pay my dical expenses!" Nia ground out the last few words through gritted teeth.
A contest of shalessness? Then let’s see who’s more shaless.
Nia’s words stunned everyone; they could hardly believe what they were witnessing. How could soone who looked so easy to bully be so sharp-tongued? Had everyone misjudged her before?
Upon hearing this, whispers imdiately erupted among the onlookers. The na ’Nia Mitchell’ was ntioned repeatedly.
Sophia Moore wasn’t afraid of her. After all, Nia’s backer, Alan Morgan, had already left MC; she had no one protecting her.
"Your shabby clothes are worth thirty thousand USD?" Sophia Moore scoffed, her expression derisive. Nia was clearly wearing cheap, market-stall clothes, yet she had the audacity to make such an outrageous demand—wasn’t she afraid of biting her own tongue?
Nia sneered. Whether her clothes were actually worth thirty thousand USD didn’t matter in the slightest. As long as she said they were, what could anyone do?
However, both Nia and Sophia were mistaken about one thing: Nia’s outfit truly was worth thirty thousand USD.
All the clothes in Nia’s wardrobe were custom-made. Though they appeared deceptively simple, they were far more valuable than so-called designer brands. Her asking Sophia Moore for thirty thousand USD in compensation was, in fact, letting her off lightly.
"Of course my clothes are worth thirty thousand USD. Now, about the dical expenses." Nia extended her hand. Although she disdained Sophia’s money, she would still claim what was due.
"HUMPH! You were the one who didn’t stand steady and fell on your own, yet you want to falsely accuse ?" Sophia Moore seethed with anger. She wouldn’t give Nia Mitchell a single cent.
"Dare to act but not to admit it? Aren’t you afraid your actions will get out and you’ll beco a laughingstock?"
Hearing Nia’s words, Sophia Moore froze for a mont, her brow furrowing tightly.
Afraid? How could she not be? The more famous a person was, the more they feared negative news spreading. No, absolutely not! She was to inherit everything from the Walker Family in the future and might even marry Maxwell Peary! If, by then, her past as Mrs. Peary were exposed by journalists, wouldn’t she be utterly humiliated? She would never be able to hold her head high in the Peary Clan then.
"Fine, I’ll pay! It’s just a tiny amount for dical expenses. Soone like you, who needs others to pay even for minor scrapes—how could you possibly afford clothes worth tens of thousands of USD?"
Saying this, Sophia Moore took two hundred USD from her designer bag and threw it toward Nia.
Nia didn’t reach out to catch them. Under the pull of gravity, the two one-hundred USD bills slowly fluttered to the ground.
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