The Cartier store was basically a high-security vault with mood lighting and whisper-quiet sales associates. Everything sparkled, from the diamonds in velvet-lined glass cases to the literal air, which smelled like exclusivity and generational wealth. The walls? Red and gold. The music? A soft classical piece that said, if you're listening to this, you better have fuck-you money.
Tessa? Already in business mode.
She scanned the collection like a CEO reviewing financial reports, calculating value, rarity, and whether this piece even deserved to exist in her world.
Naomi? Having a spiritual awakening.
She clutched a diamond bracelet priced at $400,000 like it was a lost relic of Atlantis. "Okay, but should I get it?"
Elena? Testing the limits of capitalism.
She slipped on a $500,000 diamond ring, admiring the way it caught the light. "If I buy this, does that mean I'm engaged to myself?"
