Oliver's face tightened instantly. He looked down at the wreckage as if it had betrayed him. Then he lifted his foot as if he was about to stomp it onto the floor even harder.
"It's fake," he said, voice sharp. "Why would I pay a cent? What, are you heartbroken now? Didn't you say it was real? Didn't you claim to be rich? Then go buy another one."
Kiara immediately dropped the act and flashed a smug little grin, as if she thought she'd won something.
Then, the lawyer dropped to his knees in front of the vase shards, reaching out to stop Oliver's foot from coming down.
"Mr. Jefferson," he said, slightly out of breath. "If I'm not mistaken… that Italian vase was real."
Everything went dead quiet.
Oliver froze mid-step, and Kiara's grin snapped clean off her face.
Even I had to admit, I was a little impressed. 'So he could tell the difference, huh?'
Flustered, Oliver pushed the lawyer aside and stomped onto the remains, grinding them under his heel like a petulant child.