"Mr. Jefferson, I made a few calls," the lawyer said, clearing his throat. "That 16th-century Italian vase? It was purchased at auction by the richest man in the Capital City. He gave it to his daughter to use as a flower vase."
And just like that, Oliver's entire face lit up with a smug little smirk, as if he had just scored the winning touchdown he'd been waiting for.
Kiara strutted over, picked up the vase with two fingers like it was a cheap flea market find, and examined it with a sneer.
"Wow, Therese. You really went all out with the appearances. Even your high-end knockoffs are almost believable."
But just as she was basking in her own sarcasm, the lawyer frowned and stepped closer. He adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, leaning in as if preparing to inspect the vase more closely.
Without warning, Kiara raised her hand. With a swift motion, she crashed the vase onto the floor. The sound of it shattering echoed through the room, the priceless 16th-century porcelain reduced to mere shards.
I stood frozen. My brain just blanked.
Even Oliver flinched, clearly not expecting that.
He spun on her, stunned. "Kiara, are you insane? Even if it was fake, that thing still cost money!"
Of course, she instantly turned on the waterworks.
Lip trembling and voice quivering, Kiara replied, "Sir Oliver, I just thought if Therese can't pay you back, I'd help you vent a little by smashing one of her fake antiques. Why are you yelling at me?"
Right in front of me, without a shred of shame, Oliver reached out and wiped away her phony tears, cooing over her like she was some delicate, wronged princess.
"I'm not blaming you, sweetheart," Oliver calmly replied. "I just wanted the $500,000 back so I could buy you a small apartment. My best employee deserves the best."
Then he turned toward me, puffed up and smug.
"I hope someone here understands the difference between the two of you and signs the papers already. Because, believe me, the line of women wanting to be my wife could wrap around this entire city."
I stared at him like he'd completely lost his mind.
Then I scoffed, "Oliver, maybe try figuring out who actually spent that $500 grand before you run your mouth. Or else, there will be a line of people ready to drain your wallet. It might even wrap around the whole Bayport City."
Kiara's eyes flickered with panic. Her crocodile tears returned in full force, with shaky breaths and dramatic sniffles.
Oliver rushed to console her again, falling right into her act.
My god, I'd had enough.
"Since our dear CEO here is feeling so generous," I said sarcastically, "I'm guessing you'll be paying her for smashing that $12 million vase?"
Oliver's face tightened instantly. He looked down at the wreckage as if it had betrayed him. Then he lifted his foot as if he was about to stomp it onto the floor even harder.
"It's fake," he said, voice sharp. "Why would I pay a cent? What, are you heartbroken now? Didn't you say it was real? Didn't you claim to be rich? Then go buy another one."
Kiara immediately dropped the act and flashed a smug little grin, as if she thought she'd won something.
Then, the lawyer dropped to his knees in front of the vase shards, reaching out to stop Oliver's foot from coming down.
"Mr. Jefferson," he said, slightly out of breath. "If I'm not mistaken… that Italian vase was real."
Everything went dead quiet.
Oliver froze mid-step, and Kiara's grin snapped clean off her face.
Even I had to admit, I was a little impressed. 'So he could tell the difference, huh?'
Flustered, Oliver pushed the lawyer aside and stomped onto the remains, grinding them under his heel like a petulant child.
"Atty. Doyle, you're a lawyer, not an art appraiser. Don't embarrass yourself." His tone was full of irritation and denial. "We all heard what the man said—the real vase was bought by the richest man in the Capital City, for his precious daughter. Like hell that thing ended up here in Bayport.
Kiara gasped like she was in a soap opera.
"Unless…" she said, eyes darting to me with fake shock. "Therese stole it from the richest family?"
Then she leaned in, whispering dramatically, "Or maybe she seduced the richest man himself?"
I couldn't help but laugh at their ignorance.
"You two really don't get tired of embarrassing yourselves, do you?"
Then, I leaned back against the edge of the table with my arms crossed, watching them squirm.
"Well, since you're both so desperate to know…" I paused, letting the silence hang for a beat. "Let me put you out of your misery. The richest man in the Capital City? That's my dad."
That shut them both up for about two seconds.
As if it had been rehearsed, Oliver and Kiara made eye contact and burst out laughing.
"Therese, please," Oliver said through wheezing laughter. "I know exactly what your background is. The richest man? Your dad? More like sugar daddy!"
"But hey," he added, "since you managed to snag someone like that, I'll be nice and not cancel the engagement. Don't even worry about paying back the $500,000.
