Beg on your knees

Back at the Cadet residence, the atmosphere was anything but calm. Mark paced around like a wild dog, his fingers clasped together.

"How can you be so sure that Kamila took the jade heirloom, Mother?" Mark asked in frustration. "Why did you let the media know before informing me?"

A soft “tch” sound escaped Beth’s throat. "Of course it was her!

Who else could it have been? That ungrateful woman was so eager to leave without taking anything, but we all know she couldn't have survived out there without some kind of leverage."

Mark paused, considering his mother's words. "I suppose that's true, but we still don't have any solid evidence. What if the news reports are wrong? They're already making waves on the internet."

Beth waved a dismissive hand.

"It doesn't matter, Mark.At least the world will see the crazy woman you married for who she really is. This is a good thing – it'll make people sympathize with you and your upcoming election bid. I'll make sure that thief Kamila is dealt with."

Just then, a notification popped up on Mark's phone, and his eyes grew wide in shock. "Wait, what? Kamila just posted a video online, claiming the heirloom was traced back to Kansas, where your daughter Daisy had taken it?"

Beth's face reddened with anger, her lips pressed into a thin, tight line. "What?! That's impossible! How dare she accuse my own daughter of such a thing!"

Mark ran a hand through his hair, his frustration mounting. "Mother, this is bad. Everyone's talking about us now, calling us clout chasers. You shouldn't have reacted so quickly without solid proof."

Beth's eyes flashed with fury. "How was I supposed to know your slinky sister took it before Kamila left? Call your sister right now!"

Mark shook his head. “Nuh-uh. You call her yourself,”

She whipped out her phone, frantically dialing her daughter's number. "Daisy! Get your ass back to California this instant and bring that necklace back in one piece! You've just made me a laughing stock!"

Daisy's muffled voice could be heard on the other end, but Beth was screaming like a banshee already.

Mark watched the scene unfold, running his hands through his honey brown hair for the tenth time that morning.

After a few more moments of heated exchange, Beth finally ended the call.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Beth groaned, "Now everyone is talking about us. I am going to deal with your little ex wife."

"Mom, maybe it's best if we take a step back and let this all blow over," Mark suggested, his voice softening in an attempt to defuse the tense situation. "The election is coming up, and we can't afford any more negative publicity."

Beth slowly replaced her irritation with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Excellent, my dear. Now, let's make sure we're ready for your big announcement. The world is waiting to see the next governor of New York."

******

Kamila strode through the glass doors of the exclusive Starlet Boutique, feeling a bit giddy.

The Smithson charity gala was just around the corner, and she needed to look nothing short of exquisite.

After all, she was about to be revealed to the world as the Smithson heiress, and she wanted to make a lasting impression.

As she made her way through the lavish interior, she caught the judgemental stares of the shopping attendants.

"Look at her, trying to play dress-up," one attendant murmured to her colleague.

"She'll never be able to afford anything in this place after Mr Cadet left her," the other replied smugly.

Kamila gritted her teeth, but decided to ignore their harsh comments.

As she reached out to inspect a particularly stunning gown, a pair of hands suddenly snatched it away from her.

Kamila spun around, as she came face-to-face with her worst nightmare:

Nicole.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Nicole said, her voice dripping with false sincerity. "I didn't see you there, Kamila. What on earth would a person of your... class be doing in an expensive boutique like this?"

Kamila rolled her eyes in irritation. "The dress, Nicole. I saw it first. Now let it go."

Nicole scoffed, her grip refusing to relent. "As if you could ever hope to wear something this expensive. News flash, darling – you're not married to a rich husband anymore. You'll have to be a little more careful with your spending."

Kamila's jaw tightened, her eyes narrowing to slits. "If I can afford to be here, Nicole, then I can certainly afford to buy this dress. Now, let go."

Just then, one of the attendants strode over, her brow furrowed in a frown. "I'm sorry, miss, but that dress is $30,000. If you were to rent it and accidentally damage it, you'd be responsible for the full cost. I can't let you handle it unless you're prepared to purchase it."

Kamila scoffed. "Excuse me? So, you're telling me that you look down on people who can't afford your overpriced merchandise?"

The attendant's frown deepened. "We have to protect our inventory. If you can't afford it, then you can as well get the hell out."

Nicole let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "You heard the lady, Kamila. Time to go before you embarrass yourself even more. Oh, and by the way, it was just pure luck that little heirloom scandal of yours got cleared up so quickly.

Wouldn't want you to have another chance to steal, now would we?"

Kamila heaved a deep sigh. "You know what? I'Il take that dress, and every other dress in this shop. In fact, charge it all to this card."

Kamila pulled out a sleek, black card, emblazoned with the Smithson family crest and handed it over.

The attendant took the card, her expression shifting from shock to laughter. "Oh, that's a good one, sweetie. But I'm afraid I can't accept fake cards here."

Nicole's eyes widened as she examined the card, her mouth falling open in disbelief.

"How did someone like you get your hands on a card like this? Clearly, she's not one of the Smithsons - they don't send their help out shopping."

"Excuse me?" Kamila asked sharply.

"I'm calling security," the attendant announced, reaching for the phone.

At that moment, the door to the shop burst open, and a tall, imposing figure strode in, with a dark look.

"Kai!" Kamila exclaimed, relief flooding her voice.

"What's going on here?" Kai demanded, his gaze sweeping over the scene.

The attendant practically fell over herself in her haste to explain. "Mr. Smithson, thank goodness you're here!

This woman tried to use a stolen credit card, and we need to call security to—"

"Call security?" Kai interrupted, his eyes as cold as ice. "I'll tell you what you're going to do. You're going to beg for your job on your knees, or I'll make sure you never work in this city again."

The manager, a well-dressed middle-aged man, hurried over, his face pale with fear. "Mr. Smithson, sir, what an honor for you to be here, what seems to be the problem?"

Kai turned to the manager sternly. "The problem is that your employee here has the audacity to accuse my sister of theft and attempted fraud. I want your shop's license revoked. Immediately."

The manager's eyes widened in horror. "Mr. Smithson, please, there's no need for that. It was all a simple misunderstanding."

Kai held up a hand, silencing the manager. "There is no misunderstanding. Your staff have insulted a member of the Smithson family, and that is unacceptable. You will do as I say, or face the full consequences of your actions."

Nicole's face was as pale as a corpse now. "What on earth is going on!"