Upon hearing Una Sullivan, the sneer on Rowan Ross's face deepened. 'Just a bunch of country bumpkins who've never seen the world,' she thought.
Mika Summers patted Una Sullivan's hand, reassuring her. She glanced at Rowan Ross, then looked down at the shoes, stroking her chin. "Five million? Or fifty million?"
Rowan Ross despised Mika Summers's attitude. She let go of her coat, drew back her foot, and answered coldly, "Five million!" 'Even if I let them off the hook for the coat,' she thought, 'there's no way they can afford five million.'
"Oh, so it's only five million. I thought a new, limited-edition piece would be at least fifty million. It seems you're not as rich as you think. It's almost insulting to have to pay for such a low-end product."
