Vanessa’s gaze flicked around the boutique, realizing how bad this looked. The clerk stared wide-eyed. Another customer lingered near the entrance, phone half-raised.
Vanessa swallowed. “Fine. I’m sorry,” she said quickly, the apology thin and performative.
Elliot didn’t move. “Try again.”
Vanessa stiffened. “Excuse me?”
He spoke calmly, like someone used to contracts and consequences. “A real apology includes what you did and what you won’t do again.”
Vanessa’s jaw tightened. “I… slapped her. I shouldn’t have. I won’t do it again.”
My cheek still throbbed, but hearing her admit it—say it out loud—felt like something unlocking.
The clerk cleared her throat. “Ma’am, do you want me to call security?”
“Yes,” Elliot said immediately.
Vanessa’s head snapped. “Security? For me? I’m her sister!”
Elliot didn’t look impressed. “Then act like it.”
Vanessa turned to me, eyes bright with humiliation and fury. “So this is what you do now? Hide behind a rich husband?”
I wiped the corner of my lip with my thumb. “No,” I said. “I’m finally standing somewhere you can’t push me.”
Vanessa’s hands trembled. “You think this changes everything.”
“It does,” Elliot answered before I could. “Because now there are witnesses. Cameras. And if you ever lay a hand on her again, I will press charges.”
Vanessa’s breath caught. “You wouldn’t.”
Elliot’s expression didn’t shift. “Watch me.”
She stepped back—once, then again. Her eyes flicked to the bracelet, as if she still felt entitled to it even now.
Then she hissed, “You’ll regret humiliating me before my engagement.”
She spun and stormed out, the bell above the door chiming cheerfully behind her, as if nothing had happened.
My knees weakened the moment she was gone.
Elliot turned to me, his voice softer. “Are you okay?”
