Chapter 4: The Customer Is Always Right

"What?"

The two other employees standing near the cashmere display gasped audibly, their eyes darting between Jude and the manager.

Manager Caldwell remained perfectly still, though a bead of sweat formed at his temple.

He knew the elite clientele of the Zenith District well. For someone like this man to threaten to drop half a million dollars at a rival boutique... it wasn’t an empty threat.

Julian, however, was in denial. His face flushed angry crimson, and a frantic energy took over his posture.

"Manager Caldwell, are you seriously listening to this guy?" Julian protested, stepping forward and pointing a finger at Jude. "He’s bluffing! He’s causing a scene just to stroke his own ego. Sure, he bought one suit, but I guarantee you that swiped the very last penny from whatever inheritance he stumbled into! He’s wasting our time. We should call security!"

Manager Caldwell’s face contorted in horror. Was this stylist out of his mind?

"Shut your mouth!" Caldwell roared. "Shut your mouth right this second and step away from him! Do you have any idea who you are speaking to?"

Julian flinched, stepping back.

He had worked at Aurelius for three years and had never once seen the typically composed manager raise his voice, let alone scream...

"But Manager, I—"

"I said quiet!" Caldwell snarled. "Did you leave your professional training at home today? Is this how we treat guests of the Obsidian Grand?"

Julian crossed his arms. "I’m just being realistic. Look at the guy. He’s trying to scare me, but I know a fraud when I see one. Half a million dollars? Yeah, right. He doesn’t have it."

Jude watched the meltdown with mild amusement.

He pulled his Platinum VIP Shopping Card from his pocket once again and set it flat on the glass display case.

"Talk is cheap," Jude said, his voice unbothered. "Actions aren’t. Manager Caldwell, I want fifty of your highest-tier bespoke suits, tailored to varying measurements which my assistant will provide later. Process the deposit right now."

Caldwell didn’t hesitate. He shoved Julian out of the way, scooped up the card with both hands, and rushed to the main terminal.

He punched in the transaction... a flat five hundred thousand dollars for the corporate reserve order.

He held his breath as the system processed.

*BEEP!*

*Payment Approved.*

When the long, detailed receipt began to print, the silence in the store was deafening. The other clerks felt their hearts drop into their stomachs.

He wasn’t bluffing. The guy in the cheap suit had just dropped over half a million dollars on a Tuesday morning.

Julian’s face went slack. The color drained from his cheeks, leaving him looking like a ghost.

His legs began to tremble as the gravity of his mistake finally crushed his ego. He had just horribly insulted a man who spent five hundred thousand dollars like it was pocket change!

Caldwell returned the card to Jude, bowing slightly. "Your receipt, Mr. Lawson. And your card. Please, accept my deepest apologies for this unacceptable behavior."

"Have the initial suit I bought tailored and sent to the Presidential Suite at the Obsidian," Jude said, sliding the card into his pocket. "As for your employee... how you handle this will determine if I ever walk through those doors again."

It wasn’t an empty threat. Caldwell knew that a single negative word from a billionaire could ruin the boutique’s reputation among the city’s elite.

Caldwell spun around to face Julian, his eyes burning with fury. "Your behavior is a disgrace to this establishment. You are fired. Furthermore, your commission for this month is forfeit. Pack your locker and get out of my store."

Julian looked like he was going to be sick.

Without a single word of protest, he lowered his head and shuffled toward the back room.

Caldwell shot a warning glare at the remaining employees, who dropped their gazes to the floor, terrified of meeting his eyes.

"Mr. Lawson," Caldwell said, turning back with a strained smile. "I assure you, this will never happen again. Is there anything else I can do for you today?"

Jude nodded, satisfied with the outcome, and prepared to leave.

Just as he turned toward the entrance, the doors swung open, accompanied by a cheerful chime.

Two figures stepped into the boutique. The man wore a designer polo shirt and a flashy gold watch, while the woman clinging to his arm carried a handbag that cost more than most people’s annual rent.

It was Trent Belmont and Chloe...

Trent immediately spotted the manager and grinned, letting go of Chloe’s hand.

"Caldwell, my man! Good to see you. I need some alterations done on the tux I bought last month."

Caldwell blinked, caught off guard by the sudden arrival of the Belmont heir.

But before the manager could greet him, Trent’s eyes swept across the room and landed on Jude.

Trent’s grin vanished, replaced by a look of disgust. "What the hell is this?"

Chloe gasped, covering her mouth as she recognized her ex-fiancé.

Then, a mocking laugh bubbled up from her throat.

"Oh my god," Chloe sneered, stepping forward. "Jude? What are you doing in a place like this? Did you get lost looking for the subway station? Or did you come in here to beg for a janitorial job since Sterling fired you yesterday?"

Trent scoffed, looking at Caldwell. "Caldwell, why is there a homeless guy standing in the middle of your showroom? Your security is slipping. Have him thrown out before he leaves a stench on the inventory."

Caldwell’s heart nearly stopped.

He looked back and forth between Jude and the Belmont heir, panic setting in.

Trent Belmont was a wealthy client, yes, but Jude had just demonstrated a level of liquid cash that was frankly terrifying.

"Mr. Belmont," Caldwell said, abandoning his usual subservient tone. "I must ask you to mind your words. Mr. Lawson is our most esteemed VIP client today."

Chloe let out a laugh. "VIP? Him? Manager, you have to be joking. I lived with this loser. Until yesterday, he was a glorified car washer. I guarantee you he can’t even afford a pair of socks in this store. He’s probably trying to buy a tie on a five-year installment plan!"

Caldwell’s expression darkened. "Miss, I suggest you stop talking. Mr. Lawson just purchased a full bespoke vicuña suit in cash, and placed a reserve order for fifty more. He just finalized a transaction for over half a million dollars."

What?

Trent and Chloe completely froze. The arrogant smiles melted off their faces in an instant.

"Half a million?" Trent repeated, his voice cracking slightly.

He looked at Jude, then at the manager, waiting for the punchline. But Caldwell was deadly serious.

Chloe’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. She stared at Jude, her mind short-circuiting.

Over five hundred thousand dollars? In one morning? That was impossible.

He had exactly forty-two dollars in his account when she left him. How could he possibly drop half a million dollars on clothes?

"Anyway, I have places to be," Jude said smoothly, ignoring the two statues standing near the door.

He didn’t even grant Chloe a second glance.

He walked right past them and stepped out into the bright sunlight.

Inside the boutique, Trent was still staring at the door, dumbfounded.

"Caldwell... you’re lying. There is no way that guy has money. He’s a nobody!"

Caldwell let out a sigh. "Mr. Belmont, I personally watched him swipe a Platinum Elite card. Furthermore, I watched the General Manager of the Obsidian Grand Hotel personally serve him breakfast this morning. He is residing in their Presidential Suite."

Trent’s face lost all its color. He felt a sudden chill run down his spine.

The Obsidian Grand? The Belmont family owned a lot of real estate, but the Obsidian Grand was owned by a massive international conglomerate... a conglomerate that Trent’s father was currently begging for a partnership with.

If Jude was a top-tier VIP residing in the Presidential Suite, his influence was lightyears beyond what Trent could comprehend.

And Trent had just publicly humiliated him. Twice!

"Oh my god," Trent muttered, panic seizing his chest.

If his father found out he had offended a hidden billionaire connected to the Obsidian... he would be disowned before sunset!

"Wait!" Trent shouted, shoving past Chloe and sprinting out the doors onto the sidewalk.

Chloe stood alone in the center of the boutique, her hands trembling.

She looked at the receipt still sitting on the manager’s counter, the numbers mocking her decisions.

Jude was standing near the curb, waiting for a luxury town car to pull around.

"Jude! Wait! Mr. Lawson, please wait!" Trent yelled, sprinting down the sidewalk.