Dahlia's POV
When Isabelle caught the sharp edge in my voice, her brows drew together in irritation. Unpleasant memories seemed to surface behind her eyes, and her expression twisted with barely concealed disgust.
I remained perfectly composed, my face a mask of indifference. Years of surviving in the gutter had taught me that their sneers and contempt could only wound me if I allowed them to penetrate my armor.
After clawing my way out of nothing, I refused to crumble so easily.
"Know your place. Clinging to a wealthy ex-boyfriend and a rich best friend won't magically transform you into royalty."
"That bracelet she's wearing looks expensive though."
"Has to be a knockoff."
"Maybe not. Her ex is Soren Zaid after all."
"Are you serious? Something like that would cost eight figures minimum."
The hushed gossip swirling around me barely registered, except when someone mentioned eight figures. That made my pulse skip.
