He bent forward, hooked the toe of his polished shoe beneath the handbag, and kicked it across the marble.
The bag slid several feet before striking the leg of a display cabinet.
A metallic ornament snapped from its handle.
The blonde saleswoman gasped.
The security guard went still.
And for the first time, the woman in blue removed her sunglasses.
Her eyes were dark brown, remarkably steady, and filled with an anger so controlled that the manager failed to recognize it.
"Do not touch my belongings again."
He straightened.
"Who exactly do you think you are?"
She looked at him for a long moment.
Then answered quietly.
"Someone you should have treated properly before asking that question."
The manager laughed loudly enough for the nearby customers to hear.
"Oh, please. Every week, someone walks into this store pretending to be important."
He gestured toward her coat.
"That ridiculous outfit doesn't make you wealthy."
The woman said nothing.
He continued.
"You people see expensive boutiques online and think you can walk in here like celebrities."
The blonde saleswoman lowered her eyes.
The security guard's jaw tightened.
The woman in blue tilted her head.
"You people?"
The manager's smile widened.
"People who clearly don't understand where they belong."
For a moment, the entire gallery seemed to hold its breath.
Then the woman reached into her coat pocket.
She removed a slim black phone.
The manager immediately pointed toward her.
"Don't you dare start recording me."
She looked at the screen.
"I'm not recording."
"Then what are you doing?"
"Sending a message."
He laughed.
"To whom? Your imaginary lawyer?"
She tapped the screen once.
Then returned the phone to her pocket.
"Something like that."
The manager pointed toward the entrance again.
"Security, I am giving you a direct order. Remove her."
The guard hesitated.
"Sir, she hasn't threatened anyone."
The manager spun toward him.
"Are you questioning me?"
"No, sir. I'm saying we should handle this without physical contact."
The older man's face turned red.
"Then perhaps you'd prefer joining her outside."
A few people shifted uncomfortably.
The blonde saleswoman looked toward the rear hallway.
She had already pressed the internal assistance button beneath the sales counter.
What she didn't know was that the woman in blue had contacted someone much more important.
Thirty-eight seconds later, a side door opened.
A distinguished man in a tailored charcoal-gray suit hurried into the gallery.
He was in his early fifties, with neatly styled hair, expensive glasses, and a face that had spent the previous twenty-four hours struggling to conceal extraordinary pressure.
He was Leonne Elegance's acting chief executive.