Chapter 390

The older saleswoman scoffed when Vivian didn't respond to her taunts. She turned back with a sneer, her voice laced with venom. "You're clearly out of your league, darling. That pen costs more than your entire pathetic existence. Don't embarrass yourself."

Vivian's fingers stilled on the glass display case. She withdrew her hand slowly, her gaze turning arctic. "Is this how you treat all your customers? I'd like to speak with your supervisor."

With an exaggerated eye roll, the saleswoman crossed her arms. "The manager? For you? Don't waste his time."

"And what about me? Do I qualify for an audience?" A rich, velvety voice cut through the tension like a knife.

Both women turned toward the entrance. Leaning against the doorframe with effortless grace stood Dominic Sinclair, his trademark smirk playing on his lips. Though his posture appeared relaxed, his sharp hazel eyes missed nothing.

The saleswoman's face underwent a remarkable transformation - from shock to obsequious delight in milliseconds. She practically tripped over herself rushing toward him. "Mr. Sinclair! What an unexpected pleasure! Shopping for yourself today? Or perhaps a gift? Let me prepare our private lounge - I'll bring our newest collection for your consideration."

Dominic pushed off the wall and strolled further inside, his tone deceptively light. "No customers, you said?" He gestured toward Vivian, who stood motionless by the counter. "Then who's this? A ghost? Or just beneath your notice?"

The saleswoman faltered, realization dawning too late. Her eyes darted between Vivian and Dominic, piecing together her own narrative. Clearly, the wealthy playboy didn't actually know this nobody - he must have noticed her pretty face and decided to play knight in shining armor.

Internally seething, the saleswoman assessed Vivian's flawless features with jealous scrutiny. Definitely stic surgery. She leaned conspiratorially toward Dominic, lowering her voice. "Mr. Sinclair, don't trouble yourself with her type. She's just another gold digger who spends more time hunting rich men than actually shopping."

Dominic's gaze flickered to Vivian briefly before returning to the saleswoman. His smile remained, but his eyes turned dangerous. "Fascinating. And you're an expert on her life story because...?"

Vivian observed the exchange with detached amusement, perfectly content to let Dominic's little drama play out.

Misinterpreting his reaction, the saleswoman pressed on eagerly. "In our line of work, we develop an instinct for these things," she boasted, puffing up with false importance. "Men often miss the obvious, Mr. Sinclair. But I can spot her kind from across the room."

Dominic's charming facade shattered instantly. His expression darkened as his voice dropped to a lethal whisper. "Are you implying I'm stupid?"

The color drained from the saleswoman's face as she realized her miscalculation. "N-no, of course not! I just meant—" she stammered, her confidence crumbling.