"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."

"She can't even keep her lies straight!"

"If you're really that rich, why show up in knockoffs and embarrass yourself?"

The man named Dickerson is my husband's secretary.

Austin Delgado has doted on me for years. Ever since we married, he's spent most of his time traveling with me, honeymooning, always wanting to be by my side.

Company matters especially, he prefers to hand off. For certain important occasions, he simply sends his secretary to stand in with full authority.

I never imagined the rumors outside had grown so wild.

Somehow Secretary Dickerson had become the owner of Sheridan Group.

"Believe it or don't."

I shrugged and looked at Muriel. "I've passed along the message. As for you, don't come crying to me later when you regret it."

"Remember, arrogance always catches up with a person."

I turned to leave, and outside a crack of thunder split the air, rain crashing down all at once.

"Oh no, what do we do? It's suddenly pouring out there."

"Did any of you drive here? Nobody brought an umbrella. How are we supposed to leave?"

Muriel suddenly laughed, put away her phone, and made sure every classmate heard her.

"It's raining, and my husband just said he's coming to pick me up."

"In the Rolls-Royce he just bought, too."

Another round of fawning swept the room.

"Oh my god, your husband is loaded, huh?"

"A Rolls-Royce, seriously? I've never ridden in one my whole life. I don't even know what it's like."

A few of the girls crowded up to Muriel, gushing over her.

"Could you ask your husband later? Let us ride in his car too?"

"Yeah, yeah, for old times' sake, let us bask in it a little."

Muriel looked at me, smug.

"Daniela, your husband's so poor, he probably can't even afford a car."

"In rain like this, he probably can't be bothered to come get you. Why don't you ride back in my husband's car?"

I answered flatly.

"No need. I have a car."

At my answer, the whole room froze.

"Don't joke around, how could you… possibly have a car?"

"Right, you don't look anything like someone who owns a car."

"Even if you did buy one, it wouldn't be anything decent, would it? Probably some off-brand little junker."

"We all know exactly what your family situation was like."

"Back then you had to apply for the low-income student grant every year just to get by."

"So don't put on a brave front for us."

"Right, even admitting you don't have a car isn't anything to be ashamed of."

I stood where I was, silent.

They weren't wrong. Back then my family really was poor.

Every year I had to apply for the low-income student grant.

But that was ten years ago.

I earned a perfect SAT score and got into an Ivy League university.

Arriving in New York City was like a fish half-dead from thirst finally finding water.

With a sharp head for business,

just two years into college I'd built my own company and made my first ten million.

The years after that only got smoother, and after I met my husband, Austin Delgado, I built Sheridan Group from the ground up into a Fortune 500 company.

While my classmates were proud just to land jobs at Sheridan Group, I had already become the one who called the shots there.

"Drop the act, Daniela!"

Muriel cut me off with a cold laugh.

"I saw every car downstairs, all of them designer brands, and I already checked with the hotel management."

"Not one of them is yours!"

I lifted my head and looked at her, baffled.