LM0022 Out Of the Bag
The glossy sheen of Wolfe Mall's endless corridors seemed to mirror Nancy's discomfort with every step. Mizuki walked a few paces behind the trio, her expression neutral while her mind quietly entertained the scene. She had no intention of stealing the spotlight or challenging the mean-spirited comments from Sophia and Andrea—not yet, at least.
"Ugh, can you believe some people?" Sophia declared loudly, holding up a designer handbag. The label gleamed under the boutique's lights, its price tag dangling like a badge of honor. "It's so sad when people look at these things and can only dream."
"Jealousy is a disease," Andrea added with a snide laugh. "Poor people should focus on what they can afford—like, you know, eating three meals a day instead of coveting things that aren't meant for them."
Their words, clearly aimed at Mizuki, went unanswered. Instead, she moved over to a nearby jewelry display and pretended to admire a bracelet, her lips twitching ever so slightly. Let them talk, she thought. Their ignorance was almost laughable since without knowing it, the one being insulted was not her.
Nancy, however, was far from amused. Shuffling uncomfortably between her friends, her normally confident posture was tense and rigid. Every time Sophia or Andrea glanced Mizuki's way, her heart raced, and she silently prayed they wouldn't cross a line.
The truth was, Nancy's web of lies had cornered her. She had painted Mizuki as a hanger-on—a charity case living off the generosity of her wealthy family. Her friends had swallowed the story whole, but now, with Mizuki's calm demeanor and quiet poise, cracks were beginning to show in their belief.
Nancy's panic deepened as the group moved from one boutique to the next. Normally, shopping sprees with her friends were an opportunity to flaunt her supposed wealth, but today every purchase felt like a gamble. Without Mizuki's silent financial backing, Nancy couldn't maintain the façade. She stuck to the cheapest items in each store, insisting that her restrained spending was a matter of preference rather than necessity.
"Oh, this is so cute," Andrea cooed, holding up a glittering cocktail dress. "Nancy, you should totally get it!"
Nancy's forced smile barely concealed her dread as she glanced at the price tag. "It's… nice," she said hesitantly. "But I don't think it's really my style."
"Not your style?" Sophia repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Since when?"
Nancy fumbled for an excuse, her cheeks flushing. "I just… I don't need another dress right now," she offered weakly.
Mizuki, who had been browsing a nearby rack of scarves, bit back a laugh. Although she didn't take pleasure in Nancy's discomfort, she couldn't entirely hide a small satisfaction at watching the self-proclaimed heiress squirm.
The group then moved on to a high-end shoe store, where Andrea and Sophia continued their spree with gusto. Nancy followed reluctantly, casting nervous glances at Mizuki more frequently. The sarcasm from her friends, once merely amusing, now felt like a ticking time bomb.
"Honestly, I just don't understand why some people even bother coming to places like this," Sophia said, her voice loud enough for Mizuki to hear. "If you can't afford it, why waste everyone's time?"
"Exactly," Andrea chimed in. "Don't they know how embarrassing it is? Just stay in your lane, you know?"
Mizuki remained silent, her expression unreadable as she examined a pair of heels. But Nancy's composure was quickly unraveling. Every jab, every veiled insult, edged her closer to exposure. If Mizuki decided to correct them, the entire charade might come crashing down.
"Why don't we take a break?" Nancy suggested suddenly, her voice tight with forced cheer. "I think we've shopped enough for now."
Andrea frowned. "Already? But we've barely started."
Sophia crossed her arms. "What's with you today? You're acting so weird."
"I'm just tired," Nancy said quickly. "Let's grab something to drink and sit down for a bit."
Mizuki watched the exchange with quiet amusement. Nancy was clearly floundering, and the tension was starting to affect even her loyal minions.
As the group settled into a nearby café, Nancy's discomfort only deepened. Andrea and Sophia continued chattering, occasionally tossing pointed comments Mizuki's way.
"It must be nice to just… tag along," Sophia remarked, her tone laced with sarcasm. "No pressure to spend or anything."
"Yeah," Andrea agreed. "Just enjoying the sights, right? How relaxing."
Mizuki took a sip of her coffee, her silver eyes meeting Sophia's with a calm intensity that made the girl falter. "It is relaxing," she said evenly. "It's nice to have the freedom to choose when to spend and when not to. Don't you think?"
Sophia opened her mouth to retort but was at a loss for words. Andrea quickly jumped in defensively, "Well, not everyone has that luxury."
Mizuki smiled faintly. "True. Not everyone does."
Nancy's heart sank. Every word from Mizuki felt like another stab in her person. Her friends were beginning to notice the cracks, and it was only a matter of time before the truth emerged.
As the afternoon wore on, Nancy grew increasingly agitated. Mizuki's quiet confidence was unnerving, and the more Andrea and Sophia talked, the more Nancy felt the walls closing in. By the time the group left the café, Nancy was visibly on edge. While Sophia and Andrea continued their jabs, Nancy's responses were clipped and distracted.
Mizuki, meanwhile, walked a step behind them, her expression serene. She knew exactly what Nancy was afraid of and wasn't in any hurry to soothe those fears. In fact, the anticipation was half the fun.
She toyed with the idea of unmasking Nancy outright—blurt out that she was the real young lady, not the tagalong Nancy had portrayed. The thought was amusing, but she quickly dismissed it; that would be far too crass. While tired of Nancy's lies, Mizuki wasn't willing to stoop to theatrics.
No, if she were to reveal the truth, it had to be undeniable, elegant, and utterly devastating—a moment that left no room for argument. She wanted Nancy to flounder under the weight of her own deception, not merely be called out.
As if fate had intervened, as the group headed to another shop, a cadre of sharply dressed professionals approached. At their center was an older man in his fifties with gray hair and golden-rimmed glasses. William Aaldenberg—the vice president of the Wolfe Group of Companies and a familiar face on the news—looked imposing and unsmiling, and people automatically stepped aside. Even Andrea, Sophia, and Nancy moved to clear his path. Mizuki stepped aside as well, and when the group reached them, William did a double-take. His imposing expression softened into a genuine smile as he stepped forward.
"Ms. Wolfe," he greeted Mizuki warmly, extending his hand, which she accepted. "I almost thought it was the madam earlier. You look just like your mother did at your age. Are you here shopping, or inspecting the mall? I heard from your father that you'd be joining the company soon and taking over some duties."
Mizuki smiled genuinely as murmurs spread among those nearby. She could feel the stares, and she knew Andrea and Sophia were now confused. "No, I'm just tagging along today. I won't be taking over officially anytime soon."
"But you're the only heir to the Wolfe fortune. It's a good thing to practice," William commented, prompting a ripple of shock from her companions. With that, the cat was finally out of the bag.