“Elliott, can you lend me seventy thousand dollars?”
The lively chatter in the private room of the bar ceased abruptly, as if someone had flipped a switch.
Elliott Mason’s expression darkened in an instant. His deep, unreadable eyes locked onto mine, piercing and unrelenting. “Seventy thousand? What for?”
Before I could answer, a soft laugh broke the silence. It came from Tiffany Taylor, Elliott’s childhood friend sitting by his side.
“I told you, didn’t I? Some people pretend to be all innocent and pure, but the moment the opportunity arises, they’ll find a way to scam you for money. And you didn’t believe me.” She leaned closer to Elliott, her tone mocking. “You said it was true love, but look at her now, asking for money. Seems like, to her, your wallet is more important than you are.”
Her words stung, and as she spoke, she didn’t forget to glance at me with a smirk that made my stomach turn.
I stared at Elliott, hoping for even a shred of defense, but he didn’t move. He just sat there, listening to Tiffany’s ridicule without lifting an eyelid.
The others noticed his indifference, their eyes flashing with surprise before their attitudes shifted.
It was no secret that Tiffany didn’t like me. Most in Elliott’s circle didn’t. They believed I had stolen her rightful place and brazenly inserted myself into a world where I didn’t belong.
Normally, Elliott shielded me, and out of respect—or perhaps fear—they would grudgingly be nice to me. But now, with Elliott silent, their restraint crumbled.
“Candice, you’re really bold, aren’t you? Asking for seventy thousand just like that.”
“Do you think Elliott’s money grows on trees?”
The room erupted into a cacophony of jeers.
“That’s why you should never date poor people. Otherwise, you end up acting like a charity.”
“And those harmless-looking ones? They’re the worst. When they ask for money, they don’t hold back at all.”
“Candice, robbing a bank might be faster, don’t you think?”
