Chapter 4

I swallowed the tightness in my throat, clenched my fists in silence, and raised my head to look at the host. The fourth photo appeared on the screen shortly after. "Item No. 4. Starting bid: two million dollars." "Damn, I like this one. 15 million dollars!" "20 million dollars!" "25 million dollars!" "Lock it in," I said. All eyes immediately turned to me. The host's smile was beginning to falter. "Ms. Whitmore, please do not disrupt the order. If you continue, we will have to ask you to leave." I replied coldly, "I'm not causing a disruption. I said I'll take it, and not just this one. I intend to claim all 365 photos and videos tonight." The host exchanged a glance with the audience, and laughter broke out across the room. Even Susan couldn't hold back a soft snort, resting her head playfully on Damian's shoulder. Damian's gaze turned unusually gentle, and for the first time, the coldness in his expression seemed to melt ever so slightly. "She's lost her mind. Three hundred sixty-five items would cost at least 18 billion dollars. She didn't have that kind of money even before she went bankrupt." "Who else but Mr. Tucker would even dare say something like that?" It took the host several seconds to recover his professional smile. "Ms. Whitmore, in the previous round, you exhausted all of your assets. You are not qualified to place this bid." "Now, who was it that just bid 25 million dollars?" "25 million dollars, going once!" I grabbed the water glass from the table and flung it forward. It shattered loudly at the host's feet, making him jump back in alarm. Then, I stared at him coldly. "I said I'm taking it. Can't you understand?" "Eleanor!" Someone grew impatient. "You've played along for three bids already. You're broke now. Stop pretending!" "Fake bids come with consequences. We're showing you respect by bidding on your photos. Don't be ungrateful." Even the host could no longer maintain his smile. "Ms. Whitmore, if not for Mr. Tucker, you wouldn't even have been allowed to enter, let alone place a bid. If you continue causing trouble, don't blame us for having security escort you out." I narrowed my eyes. "Who said I don't have money?" Damian glanced at me without changing his expression. Everyone froze in surprise. "Stop joking. This may be a private auction, but do you think our asset verification is a joke? We know exactly how much money you have." I turned to the host. "As long as I still have funds, I'm allowed to place a bid, correct?" "You are, but—" "Reverify my assets," I interrupted him. The room fell silent as everyone exchanged uneasy glances. Even Damian furrowed his brows ever so slightly. I pulled the microphone a little closer. "What? Are you afraid to play?" "Fine, verify all you want. If we're going to play, I want you to be convinced." On the big screen, all my photos were quickly withdrawn, replaced by my account balance. The host took his place once more. "Bidder 38, second round of asset verification." All eyes were locked on the numbers flashing across the screen. Tension crept into every face, no matter how composed they tried to appear. Whispers broke out across the room. "How is she so calm? Could she still have money?" "No way. Mr. Tucker has already shut down every one of Whitmore Group's partnerships behind the scenes. Who in this circle could have more influence than him?" "Has she lost her mind, putting on a show like this? Or is she actually hiding something we didn't see coming?"