A boutique employee thought my cheap-looking clothes made me an easy target. So she handed me a torn $10,000 dress, blamed me for the damage, and called security.

Chapter 2

Theme:
Font Size:
24px

Someone whose name appeared on the employee access log.

Someone I never expected to see.

The boutique’s private office had never felt so quiet.

I sat across from Daniel while the security footage played on the screen.

The emerald dress appeared clearly.

The camera angle wasn’t perfect, but it was enough.

I watched Chloe walk into the fitting room area twenty minutes before I arrived.

She wasn’t carrying the dress carefully.

She was carrying it like it didn’t matter.

Then she looked around.

She made sure nobody was watching.

And she touched the damaged seam.

My jaw tightened.

Daniel paused the video.

“I don’t understand,” he said.

“She knew the cameras were here.””

“She probably thought no one would review them,” I replied.

Daniel looked ashamed.

“This should never have happened.””

I leaned back in the chair.

“What happened to the dress?””

He hesitated.

That hesitation bothered me more than the accusation.

“Daniel.””

He looked at me.

“There’s more.””

I nodded.

“Tell me.””

He took a deep breath.

“The dress was supposed to be transferred to our New York flagship tomorrow. The buyer presentation is next week.””

“And?””

“And Chloe wasn’t responsible for the collection transfer.””

“Who was?””

Daniel looked down.

“The assistant director of sales.””

My eyes narrowed.

“Who?””

Before he answered, someone knocked on the office door.

A young employee stepped inside.

“Daniel, sorry to interrupt. But there’s a problem.””

Daniel stood.

“What happened?””

The employee looked nervous.

“The inventory system changed again.””

I immediately noticed Daniel’s expression.

“What inventory system?””

He exchanged a glance with the employee.

Then he said, “The private collection records.””

My father had built the company from a small family business into an international luxury brand. But he always warned me about one thing.

Money didn’t destroy companies.

People did.

And usually, it started with small things.

A missing item.

A changed record.

A person who believed they were untouchable.

I stood up.

“Show me.””

We walked back onto the boutique floor.

Chloe was still there.

She looked completely different now.

The confidence was gone.

She stood near the counter, quietly packing her things.

When she saw me, she stopped.

“I was told I could leave,” she said.

“You can,” I replied.

Relief flashed across her face.

Then I continued.

“After we finish the investigation.””

Her expression dropped.

“You’re going to investigate me?””

I looked at her.

“You accused me of destroying a dress I never touched.””

She swallowed.

“I made a mistake.””

“No,” I said calmly.

“You made a choice.””

The employees nearby became silent.

Chloe lowered her voice.

“I didn’t know who you were.””

“That’s exactly the problem.””

She looked away.

For a moment, I almost felt sorry for her.

Almost.

Then I remembered the way she smiled while the guard held my arm.

The way she judged me before knowing anything about me.

The way she believed someone’s appearance determined their value.

Daniel returned with a tablet.

His face was serious.

“Miss Evelyn.””

I turned.

“What did you find?””

He showed me the screen.

A list of recent changes appeared.

The emerald dress wasn’t the only item with unusual activity.

Several high-value pieces had been marked as damaged, discounted, or removed from inventory.

Over the past six months.

My stomach sank.

“How much?””

Daniel looked uncomfortable.

“Almost three million dollars in merchandise.””

The room went silent.

Chloe immediately spoke.

“That’s not me.””

Everyone looked at her.

She shook her head quickly.

“I swear. I only handled the dress.””

“Then why were you the one accusing her?”” Daniel asked.

“I thought she did it.””

“You thought?””

Chloe opened her mouth.

Then closed it.

She had no answer.

I looked at the inventory records again.

There was a pattern.

Every damaged item had one connection.

A person who approved the final reports.

A person with access to everything.

Daniel noticed my expression.

“You know something.””

I looked at him.

“No.””

But I did.

Because the name on the screen was familiar.

Too familiar.

The assistant director of sales wasn’t just an employee.

She was someone who had worked beside my father for twelve years.

Someone he trusted.

Someone I trusted.

I touched the screen.

“Are you sure these records are accurate?””

Daniel nodded.

“Yes.””

I stared at the name.

Then my phone rang.

The caller ID appeared.

My father.

I answered immediately.

“Dad?””

His voice was tense.

“Evelyn, where are you?””

“At the downtown boutique.””

There was a long pause.

Then he said something that made my heart stop.

“Leave that store immediately.””

I frowned.

“Why?””

Another pause.

Then his voice became quieter.

“Because the person who damaged that dress knows you found out.””

I looked around the boutique.

Every employee suddenly seemed different.

Everyone had a secret.

Everyone had a reason.

“Dad,” I whispered, “who is it?””

His answer came slowly.

And when he said the name, I felt the entire world shift.

“It’s someone standing inside that store with you right now.””

“It’s someone standing inside that store with you right now.””

My father’s words stayed in my ear.

I slowly lowered the phone.

Nobody moved.

The boutique had gone so quiet that I could hear the faint hum of the recessed lights above us.

Daniel stood behind the counter, one hand resting against the tablet.

Chloe was several feet away, pale and rigid.

Three sales associates were gathered near the jewelry display.

And at the far end of the room, a woman in a charcoal suit stood perfectly still.

Helen Mercer.

Assistant Director of Sales.

She had worked for my father for twelve years.

She had attended family dinners.

She had sent me birthday cards.

When I was nineteen and my mother died, Helen had been one of the first people outside my family to sit beside me at the funeral.

I stared at her.

She stared back.

Then she smiled.

It was a small, careful smile.

“Evelyn,” she said, “is something wrong?””

My fingers tightened around the phone.

“Dad says I should leave.””

Helen’s eyebrows lifted.

“Why would he say that?””

“I asked him who was involved.””

Her smile disappeared.

“And?””

I looked directly at her.

“He gave me a name.””

Daniel glanced between us.

“Miss Evelyn…”

Helen interrupted him.

“Daniel, you’re upsetting her with all this speculation.””

“Speculation?”” I repeated.

She turned toward me.

“Yes. We found a problem with inventory. That does not mean anyone here stole anything.””

“Then you won’t mind if we check the access records.””

Her face remained calm.

“Of course not.””

I nodded.

“Good.””

Daniel opened the records.

Helen walked closer.

“I think we should handle this professionally.””

“We will.””

“Then perhaps you should stop accusing employees based on incomplete information.””

“I haven’t accused anyone.””

Her gaze sharpened.

“You were looking at me.””

“Because you were looking at me.””

For a second, neither of us spoke.

Then Chloe suddenly stepped forward.

“Miss Mercer…”

Helen turned.

“What?””

Chloe swallowed.

“The dress.””

Helen’s eyes flicked toward the emerald gown.

“What about it?””

“The seam was already damaged when I picked it up.””

Helen’s expression changed.

Barely.

But I saw it.

“So?”” she asked.

Chloe looked nervous.

“I was told to pull it from the display anyway.””

Daniel stiffened.

“Who told you that?””

Chloe looked at Helen.

News in the same category

A boutique employee thought my cheap-looking clothes made me an easy target. So she handed me a torn $10,000 dress, blamed me for the damage, and called security.

7 Part