"Since I'm not welcome, I'll go, then."

I picked up my bag and stood to leave.

That mocking voice reached my ears again.

"Daniela, I never imagined you'd be doing this badly."

"We're all old classmates. If you've hit some kind of rough patch, you can always come to me for help!"

"After all, you were my goddess once. I couldn't just stand by and watch you drown."

I frowned and couldn't help glancing back.

"Oh, so it's you. The one who chased me and got nowhere, so he threw a fit about it."

Tony Fox flushed with anger in an instant. "You—"

He forced the rage down, pushed his glasses up, straightened his suit, and sat back down.

"I won't stoop to your level."

"Daniela, what have you got to be so smug about? Fine, you were pretty back then. But over the years I've seen plenty of women."

He suddenly pulled out a business card and held it out to me from above.

"I've got no real faults, except that I'm sentimental."

"Plenty of beautiful women out there line up to chase me, but I can't be bothered to spare them a glance."

"Daniela, why not dump that broke husband of yours and come to me instead? What do you say?"

I gave a cold laugh and said nothing, but the jeering started up around me.

"Mr. Fox really is devoted!"

"I hear you've done pretty well these years, Mr. Fox. That Rolls-Royce downstairs is yours, isn't it?"

"Oh, we really do envy you, Daniela. Fancy having such good luck with men."

Tony basked in it until he was practically floating, while I felt sick enough to throw up.

Rotten luck like this, and you're offering it to me.

Seeing me scoff in contempt.

Tony's face changed. "Daniela, what's that smile supposed to mean?"

He shoved the card into my hand.

"Back then it was you aiming too high, looking down on me."

"Now I make fifty thousand a month, at least. Better than that broke husband of yours by God knows how much."

"Marry me and I'll set you up with the best of everything. Bags, clothes, buy whatever you want. That's the kind of good life you wouldn't even dare dream of now."

"I suggest you think it over carefully."

"Only fifty thousand a month."

I bit back a laugh, raised an eyebrow, and looked him over in that suit that made him look like something he wasn't.

"Talking that big, anyone who didn't know would think you made five million a month."

"Even now, you're not good enough for me."

The moment those words were out, the room erupted.

Everyone was shocked and sneering at once.

"Daniela, we're all classmates. We all know exactly where each other stands."

"No wonder you're doing so badly now. All that pride hasn't done you any favors."

Muriel listened to the jeering and smiled wider and wider.

She even sat down right beside me, all warmth and closeness.

"Daniela, nobody means any harm. We're thinking of you."

"Look at how badly you're getting by. Why not go be Mr. Fox's mistress? All you'd have to do is freshen up each day, and you wouldn't have to live so hard anymore."

"We call that keeping the good stuff in the family!"

The more they said, the more outrageous it got. I let out a cold, incredulous laugh.

"Well, thank you all so much for that."

I didn't want to spend another second there. I grabbed my bag to leave, but a hand pinned it down.

"Oh my, isn't that the newest bag from Jarvis Boyd?"

"I hear a genuine one costs ten million. Daniela, how do you have the nerve to walk around flaunting a fake like this?"

Her hand rubbed hard against my bag. I frowned and snatched it back.

"I don't carry fakes. I never have."

The laughter around me only swelled.

"Did you all hear what Daniela just said? She said she never carries fakes. Ha!"

"Don't tell me you're about to claim that bag is a genuine Jarvis Boyd."

"That exact model runs into the millions. You think that trash-picking bum of a husband could ever buy it for you?"

"Or maybe you're going to tell us he fished it out of a dumpster while he was digging through the garbage—some rich lady's castoff."

"And that outfit of yours, too. Looks like it's supposed to be the newest line from the designer house. Five million a set."

"You really do love your knockoffs, don't you? Vain to death. If you can't afford it, don't buy it. Would it kill you to keep a low profile?"

Muriel stood with her arms crossed, her whole face twisted into that snide, sing-song contempt.

"That's right, Daniela. Everyone's got it dead-on."

"Even if life's hard for you, there's no need to be this vain. You really thought showing up to a class reunion with a fake bag would make people look at you differently? Nobody here is stupid."

I almost laughed from sheer anger, sweeping a cold look across them.

"Have any of you actually seen the world? What makes you so sure the bag I'm carrying is a fake?"

Even a professional authenticator wouldn't dare declare something fake on sight.

It takes specialized equipment before a verdict can be reached.

But the moment the words left my mouth, it hit me.

They didn't care in the slightest whether my bag was real or fake. They just wanted an excuse to sneer and take a jab at me.

I'd been naive, holding on to some old sense of classmate loyalty, coming to this reunion at all.

I never imagined that from the very start it had been a trap they'd set and dressed up as a friendly gathering.

"If it isn't fake, then what, it's real?"

Muriel waved the clip in her hand.

"Look at that dingy loungewear you've got on."

"You have to wear your pajamas just to leave the house. Can't even afford to live anymore, can you?"

I turned and glanced at the video.

I really hadn't done my makeup that day I went shopping—bare face, and I'd just thrown on that gray loungewear and walked out the door.

But not one person here knew the real thing when they saw it.

That gray loungewear may have looked low-key and unremarkable, but it was a top-tier custom piece, made by a professional overseas designer, with the base model worth a million.

That shopping trip was only the third time I'd worn it.

"If you're really short on clothes, I've got a whole sack of old ones I've thrown out. I could just give them to you—call it charity."

I let out a cold laugh.

"If any of you actually knew the real thing, you wouldn't say something so ignorant."

"Well, today I've certainly seen all of you for what you are."

"From here on, we go our separate ways. Don't come looking for me."

"Stop right there. Did I say you could leave?"

Muriel rose to her feet and looked down at me.

"We all agreed to come to this reunion, and that means we play until we're satisfied. Nobody leaves sober."

"And you're just going to make a face and walk out on us like this?"

"Wouldn't that be slapping the face of every classmate here?"

With Muriel leading the way, the others got up as well and closed in around me.

Very much with the air of not letting me leave.

I smiled. "What exactly do you want?"

Muriel picked up a bottle, set out nine glasses in front of me, and filled every one to the brim.

"Drink all of these."

"And we'll let you go."

I ran my eyes over the filled glasses, my expression giving nothing away.

Even that bottle Muriel had just taken from the liquor cabinet was specially mixed, extremely high-proof.

In the instant I lowered my head, Muriel mouthed something to Tony Fox at her side.

"Get her drunk in a bit, then take her to a hotel room."

I lowered my head and pretended I hadn't seen anything.

"And if I don't drink?"

Muriel gave a thin smile. "Then you're not walking out that door today."

I smiled too, and looked her straight in the eye.

"Muriel, you've been provoking me all night, and I let it slide."

"Now I'll give you one last chance."

"Get out of my way."

"Otherwise I'll strip you of everything that lets you swagger like this, until you're on your knees begging me to forgive you."

Muriel doubled over laughing, as if she'd heard the funniest joke in the world, until tears came to her eyes.

"You all hear that, everyone?"

"Daniela says she's going to make me sorry, make me get on my knees and beg. Ooh, I'm so scared."

The room filled in around her with jeers and laughter.

Muriel's tone turned even more smug.

"I'd really love to see it. How exactly are you going to make me sorry?"

"Are you going to send that vagrant husband of yours to pick trash off my doorstep?"

I said nothing, didn't argue. I just pulled out my phone and calmly typed out one line.

"That Russell Henson. Remove him."

"Run a full investigation on him."

"The moment you find anything, press charges immediately."

Seeing that I stayed quiet, Muriel assumed I'd lost my nerve, and her smile only grew more pleased with itself.

"Daniela, you used to have such a mouth on you. What happened, cat got your tongue?"

"Did marrying a pauper leave you too ashamed to speak?"

"Don't worry. We're old classmates, after all. I won't really make fun of you."

She lifted her glass and took a sip.

"Come on, come on, a toast to you."

"This is a class reunion, isn't it? Everyone should be having a good time."

"If you're really in a tight spot, you can just tell me. I'll have my husband help you out."

Muriel smiled her fake little smile and deliberately pushed the glass into my hand.

The classmates around her chimed right in.

"Exactly, exactly. Muriel's the wife of Sheridan Group's general manager now. Whatever trouble you run into down the road, you go to her, and how could she say no?"

"Today you have to give Muriel some face and drink all nine of these. She's our connection, you know."

"If you won't drink, we'll be the first ones to say no!"

A pack of loyal dogs, truly.

"Muriel, do you really know who I am?"

"Even if your husband is the general manager of Sheridan Group, all it takes is one word from me and he's fired, out on the street. You want to bet?"

Muriel froze for a beat, then laughed until she was crying again.

"Oh my God, how did I never notice you had such a gift for comedy before?"

"Dani, you're so impressive. Are you about to tell me that pauper husband of yours is the owner of Sheridan Group?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"That's right."

The laughter cut off.

The room went silent for two seconds.

Then Muriel was the first to burst out laughing.

"Daniela, have you lost your mind? With your husband in his baggy shorts and flip-flops, he's the owner of Sheridan?"

"Listen to yourself. Who's going to believe that?"

"Back in school you were nothing but a scholarship kid living off the poverty grant, and now you dare tell a lie this big without worrying it'll blow up in your face."

The class president joined in with his own sneering.

"Daniela, that's laying it on a little thick, don't you think?"

"Right. The owner of Sheridan is named Dickerson. He's been in the finance magazines, I've seen his picture."

"The man's in his forties. How old is your husband?"

"Vain to the bone, that's what you are. No wonder your life turned out this pathetic, Daniela."