Chapter 108

Sonia was absolutely livid, ready to spit blood. She’d gone through hell to get this dress, and now she was stuck in a fashion face-off. What made it a thousand times worse was that she was matched with Anastasia of all people! Fucking ridiculous!

Before Anastasia could even process what was happening, Joanne jumped in with a snide comment. “Anastasia, I was wondering how the hell you managed to get a TuBaci piece. Now I get it—you’re wearing a knockoff! That’s honestly pathetic. How desperate for attention are you?”

Joanne couldn’t believe she was witnessing two identical gowns. It was mind-blowing. Since TuBaci pieces were supposed to be one-of-a-kind, one of these had to be fake. And that someone was obviously Sonia—a world-famous dancer and celebrity. There was no way she’d wear a counterfeit. So it had to be Anastasia with the fake.

Joanne felt vindicated. She’d been suspicious from the start. How could Anastasia possibly afford a real TuBaci? Wearing a knockoff was just shameless.

When Anastasia spotted Sonia, she frowned slightly. They really were wearing the same dress? People around them started whispering, trying to figure out who was wearing the fake. But Anastasia wasn’t stressed at all—she was confident hers was authentic.

She looked at Joanne coolly. “What proof do you have that mine’s fake? Are you just talking out of your ass? Because that’s what it smells like.”

“You’re the one talking shit! Isn’t it obvious? TuBaci makes one-of-a-kind pieces—how could there be two?” Joanne shot back.

Before Anastasia could respond, Sonia had walked over. She glanced at Anastasia dismissively before addressing the crowd.

“This gown cost me eight figures through a private commission. So mine definitely can’t be fake,” Sonia said with complete confidence.

The crowd gasped collectively. Eight figures! Jesus! Even though these were all wealthy socialites, most wouldn’t drop that kind of money on a single dress. Everyone immediately assumed Sonia’s was the real deal and Anastasia was wearing a counterfeit.

Sonia felt triumphant—she’d been looking for a chance to humiliate Anastasia, and now the opportunity had literally walked up to her. Wearing a fake to a high-society event was social suicide.

Sonia smiled sweetly. “Anastasia, what a coincidence that we have such similar taste! Where did you get your dress? Did someone scam you?”

Anastasia replied evenly, “Who got scammed is still up for debate. What makes you so sure mine’s fake? I paid serious money for this dress too.”

“But I bought mine through official channels and have all the documentation,” Sonia said with fake innocence.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but so do I. We could argue about this all night, but there’s an easy way to settle it—we can verify the dresses,” Anastasia said, tired of wasting time on this bullshit.

“How?” Sonia asked, momentarily caught off guard.

“If you’re really TuBaci superfans, you’d know their pieces have authentication codes. Anyone can copy the look, but they can’t replicate the craftsmanship and details.”

As soon as Anastasia finished speaking, the crowd fell silent, all eyes focused on her and Sonia.