Chapter 107
No.1
Twenty minutes later, the private appraisal event transitioned into the main spectacle of the evening:a highly exclusive, VIP-only closed-door auction.
The auction room was located in the subterranean level of the gallery. It was designed like a miniature Roman amphitheater. The guests sat on plush,semi-circular leather sofas that sloped downward toward a brightly lit central stage.
Elisa had washed her face with freezing water,forcing her heart rate back to a steady rhythm.She sat in the back left corner of the room, hidden in the shadows. Alastair sat beside her, his presence a silent, immovable wall of support.
In the dead center of the front row, occupying the best seats in the house, sat August and Allena.
Preston Vance stood near the auctioneer's podium,personally overseeing the presentation of the artifacts.
The auctioneer tapped the microphone, drawing the room's attention. "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. Before we begin, please note that several elite items tonight carry a unique seller's
stipulation: should bidding exceed ten times the base appraisal, the seller grants the auction house the right to select the winning bid based on strategic corporate merit, rather than pure capital."
No.2
The first five items were contemporary sculptures and minor impressionist sketches. Elisa paid no attention. She stared down at her encypted tablet,her fingers flying across the screen as she desperately tried to calculate alternative routing for the offshore server funding.
"Lot number six," the auctioneer announced, his voice echoing through the room.
An assistant rolled a velvet-draped pedestal onto the stage. The auctioneer grabbed the fabric and pulled it away. A single, intense spotlight hit the glass display case.
"A flawless, late-Victorian era Antique Enamel Locket, set in 18-karat gold and encrusted with Ceylon sapphires."
Elisa's eyes casually flicked up from her tablet.
The moment her gaze locked onto the necklace,her entire body went completely rigid.
Her fingers instantly clamped down on the edges of her encrypted tablet. Her grip was so sudden and
No.3
violently tight that the metal casing let out a faint,strained groan under the pressure. Her breathing completely stopped. Alastair immediately sensed the rigid, unnatural stiffness of her posture and the sudden halt of her breathing.①
"Faye?" Alastair whispered, leaning in. "What is it?"
Elisa did not answer. She stared at the locket. The intricate gold filigree. The specific, asymmetrical placement of the blue sapphires.
It wasn't just an antique. It was her grandmother's dowry. It was the exact necklace her mother had wept over, the one her gambling-addict uncle had stolen and pawned ten years ago. It was the only physical piece of her family's true history left in the world.④
Elisa's hands began to shake. She gripped the edge of the leather sofa.
"I have to get that," Elisa breathed, her voice trembling with raw, unfiltered emotion. "Alastair, I have to buy that necklace. No matter what."
Alastair didn't ask questions. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a solid black titanium credit card. He slid it into her hand.
No.4
"It has no limit," Alastair said quietly. "Considerit an
advance on your Aethel salary.Take it."
"We will start the bidding at one hundred thousand dollars," the auctioneer declared.
Elisa did not hesitate. She immediately raised her numbered paddle high into the air.
In the front row, Allena had been bored, inspecting her acrylic nails. But when she saw the auctioneer point to the back corner, she turned her head.She saw Elisa holding the paddle.
A vicious, predatory light ignited in Allena's eyes.She had no idea what the necklace was or why Elisa wanted it. But the simple fact that Elisa desired it was enough. If Elisa wanted it, Allena was going to take it.①
Allena grabbed August's bicep, shaking it excitedly.She pointed a manicured finger at the stage.
No.5
"Oh, August, look!" Allena cooed, her voice loud and whining. "That sapphire necklace perfectly matches my eyes! It's so beautiful. Please buy it for me,honey?"
August followed her finger. He saw the necklace.Then, he turned his head and looked at the back row.He saw Elisa.
He remembered her cold rejection in the hallway.
He remembered the way she had looked at him with absolute pity. His massive, fragile ego demanded blood. He needed to remind her that he was the god of this city, and without him, she could have nothing.
August gave a slow, arrogant nod. He raised his paddle.
"One hundred and fifty thousand," August's deep voice boomed across the room.
Elisa's jaw clenched so hard her teeth ached. She raised her paddle again. "Two hundred thousand."
No.6
August didn't even blink. He didn't look at the stage; he kept his eyes locked on Elisa. "Four hundred thousand."
A low murmur swept through the amphitheater. The billionaires in the room instantly realized this was no longer an auction. It was a public execution. It was a billionaire using his wallet as a weapon to crush his ex-employee.
Allena turned around in her seat. She looked directly at Elisa, a sickeningly sweet, victorious smile plastered on her face. She intentionally leaned her head onto August's shoulder, rubbing her cheek against his tuxedo.
Elisa's fingers gripped the wooden handle of the paddle until her knuckles turned white. She looked at Alastair. Alastair gave her a firm,reassuring nod.
Elisa raised the paddle. "One million dollars."
The crowd gasped. Bidding a million dollars for a necklace worth maybe two hundred thousand was sheer madness.
August's face darkened. The muscles in his neck bulged. He had not expected her to have the capital to fight back. He shifted his gaze to Alastair.He instantly assumed Alastair was funding her. The thought of another man financing 'his wife's defiance pushed August over the edge of sanity.
No.7
He would not be humiliated in front of Wall Street.
August slowly raised his paddle. His voice was terrifyingly calm, carrying the absolute weight of the Chambers empire.
"Five million dollars."
The subterranean room went dead_silent. You could hear a pin drop. Five million dollars for a Victorian locket was financial insanity.
Elisa stared at August. The fight drained out of her body. Her arm slowly lowered, the paddle resting on her lap.
She could not do it. Even with Alastair's black card,her logical, architectural brain refused to let her drag Aethel Intelligence into a five-million-dollar loss over a personal vendetta. She had hit her absolute limit.
She closed her eyes. The crushing weight of defeat settled into her bones. She had lost her mother's memory to the man who had destroyed her life.①