Chapter 30 Damned Nadia's Making Things Harder For Me

Before I could express my surprise, Antonio handed me another light blue jacket, "Try this one on."

I quickly tried on several jackets, and by the end, he was still critiquing my clothing choices, urging me to try on a few outfits in the fitting room. To my surprise, Antonio's seemingly random selections all lent me a different aura.

A store attendant adjusted my collar, smiling, "Miss, your boyfriend has good taste; he knows you so well." Under her envious gaze, I felt a mix of subtle joy and embarrassment. I wanted to tell her that Antonio wasn't my boyfriend, but I couldn't explain our relationship. Could I say I was his mistress? That Antonio's tenderness was the same for every lover, just employer's obligation? I couldn't possibly say that. All I could do was muster an awkward smile and, feeling slightly uncomfortable, changed back into my original clothes.

Antonio's selections for me weren't all from high-end brands like LOUIS VUITTON or Dior. When my family was still wealthy, I often visited luxury stores with friends. But after my father's company went bankrupt, and I relied on scholarships and part-time jobs to get by, cheap cotton T-shirts and jeans became my regular attire.

After changing, I walked out of the fitting room to find Antonio on a phone call. He turned and frowned slightly upon seeing me in my own clothes, puzzled, "Don't you like them?"

I shook my head. No girl could refuse beautiful clothes, but I knew they weren't mine to take.

Antonio was busy; he didn't have time to guess why I was suddenly downhearted, probably just assuming I didn't like the clothes. He patted my shoulder and gestured for me to check out other brands as he continued his call. Reluctantly, I walked down the corridor, bound by a promise of absolute obedience.

The mall was vast, with several well-known women's brands on just the fourth floor, like Hermes, Tiffany & Co., and Gucci. A few steps forward, I glanced back at Antonio, who seemed troubled, his brow furrowed, his tone harsh. Dante and Matteo followed him closely. Maybe it was my imagination, but his expression softened a bit when he noticed me looking back. He waved me forward, letting me continue.

I didn't want to go on, but strangely, whenever Antonio's demeanor softened slightly, I found it hard to refuse his non-principal demands. I sighed, annoyed at my own soft-heartedness, and obediently turned into a random store.

The staff behind the counter, busy with her phone, looked me over without much warmth but maintained her politeness, "Can I help you with anything?"

"I'll just look around," I said, planning to try on a couple of clothes just to appease Antonio, so I declined her offer to show me bestsellers.

When I skipped the expensive items for a simpler, cheaper denim jacket, I noticed the staff's expression fade; she kept glancing towards the door, probably hoping I would leave.

I didn’t really need her help and was about to tell her she could attend to other tasks when someone reached over, taking the denim jacket from my hands and hanging it back on the rack, "I don't think this suits you, Sienna."

I turned to see Nadia Bellini, dressed sweetly and elegantly—a friend from my college. We used to get along well, both choosing Professor Falcone's art appreciation course. But since Professor Falcone became my mentor and rejected Nadia due to her grades, she had been distant and often spoke to me in an uncomfortable tone, like now—

"These clothes might suit you better, more affordable at least. Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot, even a $3000 piece would take you a long time to earn." Nadia's expression was exaggerated, "You work so hard for your money, if I can, I'd like to help."

I looked at her expressionlessly, enduring the discomfort. Arguing with Nadia would be a waste of time. She didn't seem to know when to stop; as I was about to leave for another store, she suddenly grasped my arm, "Don't be embarrassed, Sienna, I'm happy to help. Poor thing, what brings you shopping in Philadelphia? Did something happen in Boston?"

"Nothing, thank you," I replied curtly, turning to leave.

"But no worries, we're friends, and I'm familiar with this place, and I know the manager well." Nadia's smile was sweet as she spoke to the staff, "Can you find the best clothes for my friend here? Price won’t be a problem." Nadia pulled out her platinum card.

The staff, now apparently much more enthusiastic, addressed Nadia, "Of course, Miss Bellini. How about this piece? It's our latest handcrafted monogram suit, the buttons are custom-made in platinum, and it comes with matching accessories."

The outfit was clearly high-end and far beyond what I could afford; I felt the mockery from both Nadia and the salesgirl. My mood soured instantly, remembering Bert had often told me about Nadia's strange jealousy towards me. I couldn’t understand what I had that could possibly make Nadia envious. Her life seemed so much better than mine in every aspect except academics.

Nadia always flaunted her wealth; everyone at school knew about her affluent family, her increasingly expensive cars, her loving parents, and her doting heir brother—she was practically a princess from a fairy tale. However, her personality was far from the kindness and warmth of fairy tale princesses. I decided I didn't want to engage with her anymore, "Please, let me through!"