Chapter 284: The Illusion Of Superiority

Chapter 284: Chapter 284: The Illusion Of Superiority

Inside VIP Booth Four, Liv was in the middle of taking a selfie with Natasha, holding up her glass of fifty-thousand-mark complimentary champagne.

"I’m telling you, Alan," Liv smiled brightly, lowering her phone, "this night is already going down as our best reunion yet. Everything is just so... top tier."

Alan smirked, resting his arm on the back of the leather booth. "Like I said, when you deal with high-end capital, doors just open."

"Look who finally decided to show up," Sky whispered suddenly, nudging Natasha’s elbow and pointing toward the grand staircase.

The entire booth turned their eyes toward the entrance of the VIP section.

The air in the elevated pavilion seemed to shift instantly.

Aliya and Fancy walked up the wide carpeted stairs, moving with a relaxed, poise-filled elegance that instantly drew the eyes of neighboring corporate executives. The flawless, haute couture cuts of their dresses and the brilliance of the Swiss jewelry draped around Fancy’s neck screamed elite, uncompromising luxury.

For a long, frozen second, total silence fell over VIP Booth Four.

Liv’s smile froze mid-air, her hand tightening around her champagne flute so hard the crystal almost creaked. Her eyes locked onto the glittering diamond necklace around Fancy’s neck, then darted to the emerald silk flowing around Aliya. As someone who obsessed over luxury brands, Liv recognized true high fashion when she saw it—and neither of those outfits came from any boutique in Veyra.

Natasha swallowed hard, her iced latte completely forgotten as her jaw went slightly slack.

Alan’s eyes widened, a sudden, sharp jolt of shock hitting his chest. The quiet, unapproachable girl from high school was completely unrecognizable. She looked like a young heiress stepping off a private yacht.

"Aliya... Fancy..." Phoebe stuttered, quickly breaking the uncomfortable silence as she adjusted her own dress, suddenly feeling immensely underdressed. "You... you made it."

"Of course," Aliya replied with a faint, polite smile, sliding gracefully into the open corner of the booth. Fancy sat beside her, resting her designer clutch on the obsidian table with a soft, distinct clink.

"Sorry if we kept you waiting," Fancy added casually, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Traffic near the financial center was a bit heavy due to the auction."

Liv forced a tight, strained laugh, desperately trying to regain her footing. "N-No worries! We were just enjoying the complimentary champagne Alan’s family organized for us. It’s fifty thousand marks a bottle, you know. I doubt you’ve ever tasted anything like it."

Aliya glanced down at the crystal flute, then raised an eyebrow with a dry, amused smile. "Dom Pérignon P2? It’s a decent dinner pour."

Liv’s face flushed a deep, burning red.

Sky leaned forward slightly, tilting her head with a sneaky, calculating smile. "Wow, Aliya... Fancy... your dresses are so unique. I’ve been browsing all the flagship catalogs in Aurelia this season, but I’ve never seen these designs before. Where exactly did you get them?"

Before either of them could answer, Natasha quickly chimed in, a sharp, skeptical smirk cutting across her face. "Yeah, are they... actually authentic? I mean, custom high fashion pieces like those usually cost tens of thousands of marks, if not hundreds."

The table subtly stirred. Everyone present knew the background of the two girls—Aliya and Fancy came from modest, ordinary families, and Fancy’s family background was known to be struggling under quiet financial debt. There was simply no logical way they could afford authentic bespoke luxury garments straight out of Europe.

Liv seized the opening instantly, letting out a soft, mock-sympathetic sigh as she shook her head. "Oh, come on, you guys. Don’t be so harsh on them. Aliya, Fancy... you really didn’t have to go through all the trouble of wearing high-end knockoffs or renting fake designer jewelry just to impress us tonight. We’re all old classmates here! You could have just worn normal clothes."

"Exactly," one of the male classmates chimed in, leaning back with a condescending laugh. "There’s no shame in living within your means. Trying too hard just makes it awkward for everyone."

"It really does," Phoebe added softly, swirling her glass with a faint smirk. "We all know where everyone stands."

Fancy almost burst out laughing right then and there, resting her chin on her hand as she exchanged an amused look with Aliya.

Aliya shook her head mildly, tapping her fingernails against the table as she tried to clear up the misunderstanding. "You’re all overthinking this. These aren’t knockoffs or rentals."

"Oh, Aliya, please," Liv interrupted, her tone practically dripping with patronizing pity. "It’s fine, really. You don’t have to double down. We get it—you wanted to look nice for tonight. Just don’t make it sad."

A chorus of soft, sympathetic chuckles rippled through the table as the group collectively bought into the narrative, looking at Aliya and Fancy with misplaced condescension.

Seeing that her words were hitting a brick wall of pure arrogance, Aliya simply unlocked her phone. She swiped to her gallery, pulled up a high-resolution photo, and rested the screen face-up on the center of the obsidian table.

"We got the dresses while shopping in Europe last week," Aliya said evenly.

The photo on the screen showed a crisp, sunlit shot taken inside an exclusive private boutique overlooking Lake Geneva. Standing together in the frame were Aliya and Fancy, flanked by Jake Rivers, Adrian Vale, Marcus Sheele, Noah Chen, and Leon Hart—the entire power core of Aurelia Capitals. The digital location stamp at the top right of the photo clearly read: Geneva, Switzerland.

For three agonizing seconds, the table went utterly dead silent.

Phoebe’s eyes bulged as she recognized the legendary board members of Aurelia Capitals—figures whose photos dominated financial news outlets daily. Natasha gasped, leaning back in her seat as if the phone screen had burned her. Alan’s jaw tightened, a cold sweat breaking out on his neck as he stared at the titans standing casually alongside his former classmates.

How on earth could Aliya and Fancy possibly know the most powerful financial titans in the state?

Just as the atmosphere in the booth was on the verge of completely collapsing into awe, Sky dramatically clapped her hands together, breaking the tension with a loud, theatrical laugh.

"Oh, wow!" Sky giggled, shaking her head as she pointed at the phone. "Okay, now you guys are really taking this too far! Is this AI or Photoshop?"

Natasha snapped out of her trance, instantly latching onto the lifeline. "Right?! I mean, look at how clear the lighting is! They probably used one of those new generative image editing tools! Did you really think we’d believe you’re casually hanging out with the board of Aurelia Capitals in Switzerland?"

Liv let out a sharp scoff, clutching her chest as if deeply offended. "Aliya, this is getting ridiculous. Resorting to fake photos and AI edits just to prove a point? That’s actually tragic."

Alan shook his head, looking at Aliya with a heavy, performative sigh. "I’m genuinely disappointed, Aliya. I thought you had more self-respect than this. Trying to fake connections with high-level corporate directors... do you realize how dangerous those kinds of rumors are?"

Aliya stared at them, completely speechless at the absolute mental gymnastics playing out in front of her. Beside her, Fancy leaned back, utterly fascinated by how deeply entrenched their delusion really was.

"Hey! Sorry I’m late, everyone!" Just then, a charismatic, energetic voice called out from the stairs.

The entire booth turned to see Brandon walking up into the VIP section. Dressed in a clean, navy tailored blazer, Brandon was easily one of the most liked guys from their high school days—smart, grounded, and completely devoid of the toxic elitism that defined Alan’s circle. Alan’s expression immediately darkened slightly at his arrival; he had always hated how effortlessly popular Brandon was without ever trying to flex.

"Brandon!" Phoebe called out, forcing a quick smile. "You finally made it!"

"Yeah, sorry about that! Parking near the financial district tonight is absolute chaos," Brandon laughed, pulling up an extra chair at the end of the booth and nodding to everyone. "Hey Alan, Liv, Natasha... great to see you all!"

As Brandon scanned the table, his eyes landed on Aliya, and his face instantly lit up with genuine surprise and respect.

"Aliya!" Brandon grinned broadly. "Man, it’s been a minute! Hey, as I was walking up from the valet, I couldn’t help but notice your brother’s car parked right at the central entrance display!"

Aliya blinked, a subtle, amused smile returning to her lips. "Oh? You saw it?"

"Saw it? The entire driveway is practically crowding around it!" Brandon laughed warmly, shaking his head in disbelief. "I didn’t see him inside, though. Is he here at the Crown tonight?"

Aliya shook her head casually, taking a slow sip of her water. "No, my brother is attending an auction over at the Meridian Gallery tonight with a client. I needed a ride, so he told me to just take the car since he wasn’t using it."

Brandon’s eyes went wide with sheer amazement. "Wait... he let you drive the McLaren P1?! Man, he must really love and trust you! I read in the automotive trade logs that he paid almost double the market evaluation just to secure that exact chassis!"

The entire booth froze solid.

The snarky comments died instantly in everyone’s throats. Liv’s condescending smile shattered into fine dust, Natasha’s glass paused halfway to her mouth, and Alan’s face paled so fast he looked like he had seen a ghost.

Brandon, completely oblivious to the silent nuclear bomb he had just dropped on the table, tilted his head in admiration as all eyes locked onto him in wide-eyed, terrifying shock.

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