Petty Gifts, Big Payback

I still hadn't said a word, and Rebecca was clearly getting twitchy.

She grabbed a coffee off a tray, took one flirty step closer—then fake-tripped.

Splash.

Hot coffee hit my white silk blouse, dead center. Brown stain, front and loud.

"Oh no!" she gasped, hand over her mouth, eyes practically glowing. "Didn't even see you there! That top's totally wrecked. Though it was kinda yellow already... must've been cheap, huh? Want me to pay for it?"

She reached into her crocodile clutch, flashing her diamond bracelet like it was part of the show.

Gavin looked way too proud of her little act.

He slung an arm around her. "Vera, why are you standing there blocking traffic?"

Then that signature smirk.

"Pay her? Rebecca, come on. Don't waste your money."

He pulled out a few $50s and flicked them at my face.

"That should cover, what, a hundred thrift store tops? Go wild. Maybe next time you'll show up in something that doesn't scream clearance bin. And hey—do us both a favor and stop name-dropping me."

He pointed at the cash on the ground like it was trash. "What? Just gonna stand there? Not enough? Oh right—guess broke girls like you don't bend anymore. Go on. Pick it up. Crawl for it."

The crowd buzzed—whispers, snickers, side-eyes.

"Who is she? Dressed like THAT?"

"Mr. Censori's ex. Yikes."

"She dumped him? Bet she's kicking herself."

Gavin was eating it up.

"In the end, it's about vision," he said, arms wide like he was on a TED Talk. "I gave you a little gift, you blew up, and now—look at you."

He motioned to the sharp suits and the massive summit logo behind him.

"This? This is the world you SHOULD'VE reached for. But no—you let your jealousy spiral. You had the winning hand, Vera. And you still lost."

I met his eyes, ice cold. "You done? Good. Move."

He froze.

I didn't wait. Just walked right past him, straight to the restroom.

He had no idea.

Back then, I funded his little pipe dream. Now? I was here to collect—with interest.