Chapter 12

The bidding quickly soared past ten million. Cassandra raised her paddle almost instantly. "Fifteen million." Her move caused a ripple across the room. Heads turned, whispers buzzed—everyone trying to figure out who this girl was. One shout and she upped the price by several million like it was nothing. Sitting front row, Evelyn felt her chest tighten with rage. She clutched at her chest, speechless with anger. Vera leaned in close and whispered, “Grandma, has Sis lost her mind? Where would she get fifteen million from? Don’t tell me she’s counting on Grandpa to clean up the mess later? Ugh... But don’t get too mad, Grandma. It’s not like the Taylors can’t afford it. Still, it’s not worth wrecking your health over.” “She’ll be the death of me,” Evelyn snarled, clearly bitter. “If she had just a third of your sense, I might actually live a bit longer.” Truth was, it wasn’t about the money—Evelyn had always had a problem with Cassandra. No matter what the girl did, she just couldn’t stand her. … On the other side of the hall, Mara clutched Linda Quinn’s arm and whined sweetly, “Mom, I want that ring too!” Linda hesitated for a moment before raising her paddle. “Sixteen million.” “Eighteen million,” a collector shouted almost immediately. “Twenty million,” Linda pushed back, her lips pressed together tightly. Cassandra bit her lip and threw caution to the wind. “Thirty million.” With one bold shout, she knocked several eager bidders out of contention. She was sitting quietly and alone in a less noticeable corner. Most in the room had never seen her before, which only fueled the curiosity. Who was this stunning girl who carried herself with such confidence—so young, yet already radiating an air of dominance and elegance? And spending like money meant nothing? Now that took nerve. "Anyone else?" the auctioneer tapped the gavel and scanned the room after nearly thirty seconds of silence. Cassandra’s hands were clenched tight. She was riding the line between thrilled and terrified. Back in the front row, Evelyn looked like she was about to pass out. Her face turned red with fury. Inside, she was practically cursing Cassandra to the grave—wishing someone, anyone, would bid higher. If that girl actually spent thirty million on a damn ring, she might end up in the hospital from rage. Mara was clearly obsessed with the ring, too. And after being completely humiliated by Cassandra, she wasn’t about to let this go. She was dead set on crushing her. With the ring almost in Cassandra’s hands, Mara was on the verge of tears. She clung to Linda, begging her to win it no matter what. Gritting her teeth, Linda raised again. "Forty million." Cassandra's eyes widened as she stared across the room. So even in this life, her oh-so-frugal stepmother couldn’t hide her true colors? Did this mother-daughter duo really think now that Faye was gone, the whole Hawthorne fortune was theirs for the taking? "Seventy million." That voice came from a sharply dressed man standing outside VIP Room 7 on the second floor. With a mic in hand, his voice boomed through the hall. The sudden jump of thirty million shocked the crowd. Now it felt like the real game had just begun. Everyone knew the nine private rooms were reserved for the elite of the elite—people whose influence could shake both the political and business worlds just by lifting a finger. The bidding war raged on as other VIP rooms chimed in, each trying to outbid the others. At this point, it wasn’t even about the antique anymore—it had become a flexing contest. After an intense back-and-forth, the ring was finally claimed by the mystery guest in Room 7 for a staggering 270 million. With the final piece sold and the last big moment claimed by a titan in disguise, the auction wound down and guests began to rise from their seats, ready to leave. Then, a tall man dressed in an all-black suit and wearing a sleek black mask approached Cassandra, holding a stunning, ornate box. Behind him trailed several highly-trained security guards.