Anna's POV
"Rachel, give him some new outfits," I added casually, glancing at Sean without much expression. "If he's going to accompany me in public, he needs a proper formal suit. Make sure it's tailored."
I wasn't planning to keep him around forever, but for now, he was under my roof, and I wouldn't mistreat someone I'd brought in myself even if it had all been a mistake.
Pulling a sleek black bank card from my purse, I held it out to Sean. He hesitated before accepting it with both hands.
"This is for your living expenses. The password is written on the back. I've been busy lately, so you'll have to arrange your schedule freely. But remember one thing stay clean. No trouble. Use this time to learn how to behave in society. There's more to life than simply following orders."
Without waiting for his response, I turned on my heels and left.
I had an auction to attend. A significant one, in fact. It was whispered that several rare and priceless items would be featured tonight. The kind of event that drew the city's most influential players like moths to a flame.
Outside the venue, luxury cars rolled in one after another, their chrome reflections glinting beneath the chandelier-like streetlamps. Cameras flashed. The red carpet was already abuzz with reporters and stylists. The air was thick with money and perfume.
"Ms. Shaw, the auction starts in twenty minutes," Rachel reminded me, holding a sleek tablet in one hand. "Your private box is prepped."
I gave a short nod, smoothing down the folds of my midnight-blue gown. Everything was in place. Or so I thought until fate decided to slap me across the face.
Coming down the stairs, all confident smiles and cloying charm, were Jack and Lucy Taylor.
I stopped in my tracks, irritation prickling beneath my skin. Why here? Why now?
Lucy was dressed in a tastelessly flashy gown, diamonds glittering like a chandelier had exploded across her chest. Her fake smile was practically carved into her cheeks. Typical.
Jack, however, had the audacity to speak first, his voice thick with sarcasm.
"Well, what a surprise," he drawled. "Shouldn't you be at Olympus Club tonight?"
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Shouldn't you be busy trying to fix the mess at Phoenix Corp? Or are you too preoccupied babysitting your gold-digger?"
His face darkened instantly. "You didn't deny it. So it's true you went to that kind of place? You slept with a man there? How could you, Anna? Do you have no shame?"
Before I could respond, his grip clamped down hard on my arm, the sting immediate. He had no right.
I ground my heel into the top of his foot, hard enough to make him flinch, and spat, "You lost the right to lecture me the moment you slept with Lucy while still married to me. I was already divorced when I went. You, on the other hand, were cheating while I was still wearing your ring."
Gasps echoed around us. A few phones went up, recording. I didn't care.
This was our mess, and he had chosen to drag it into the public eye.
Without another word, I swept past them, Rachel following quickly behind. As the velvet doors closed behind us, a small, satisfied smile tugged at my lips.
Petty, but satisfying.
Inside, my private VIP box overlooked the auction floor through one-way glass. The seats were plush leather, and the lighting was dim and luxurious. Rachel took her place beside me and pulled up the catalog.
"The sapphire bracelet is first. It would be a perfect gift for Margaret's birthday."
I nodded, barely listening. My eyes had already scanned ahead to Lot 47.
A mansion in the old Cin Skylake District.
My mother's childhood home.
A wave of emotion washed over me nostalgia, longing, determination. That house was more than property. It was legacy. My legacy.
The auction began. A parade of glittering art, antique watches, and absurdly priced jewelry passed by. Jack, ever the peacock, won a pearl necklace for Lucy at five million dollars. She kissed him like she was in a soap opera.
How tasteless can one couple be?
Then came the sapphire bracelet. I raised my paddle, expecting a smooth acquisition.
But Jack's paddle went up too.
Again. And again.
This was deliberate. He knew it was for Margaret. He was trying to spite me.
"Fifteen million," Rachel whispered, watching me.
"Twenty," I said clearly. My voice didn't waver.
A hush fell over the room. Jack didn't bid again.
"Sold to Ms. Shaw!"
A ripple of applause. I smiled faintly. One win.
But the real battle was only just beginning.
Lot 47 appeared on screen. The Cin Skylake mansion. My pulse quickened.
"Ms. Shaw," Rachel murmured, tense. "What if Mr. Simpson tries to sabotage this too?"
I sipped my tea calmly. "He might. But the price on this mansion won't be cheap. He's petty, but not stupid. It's not even useful to him."
I had barely finished speaking when Jack's voice rang out from the neighboring box.
"Fifty million."
My breath caught.
He was that petty.
My hands clenched into fists, nails biting into my skin. Rachel turned red with fury. "He's insane! Why must he take everything you want?"
I inhaled slowly. "Don't panic."
Raising my paddle, I said evenly, "Seventy million."
A second later, Jack countered.
"Eighty million."
Rachel leaned in. "That's above our planned cap."
"I know. But this isn't just real estate. It's my mother's home."
Just as I was about to raise my paddle again, a voice cut through the air.
"Two hundred million."
It came from the VIP box beside mine.
The entire auction house fell silent. No name. No face. Just a voice. Smooth. Male.
Powerful.
Neither Jack nor I raised our paddles again. We couldn't.
Jack stormed out with Lucy in a huff, and I watched them go with mixed feelings. The mansion was gone for now but at least Jack didn't get it either.
I turned to Rachel. "Find out who that bidder was. I want a name, a face. Everything."
Just as I stood to leave, the next item flashed on screen.
A small wooden rabbit carving.
Simple. Plain. Yet something about it tugged at my memory.
"Final item of the night," the auctioneer announced. "A personal piece. Starting bid: one million."
No one raised a paddle.
One minute passed. Two. Three.
Then, almost without thinking, I raised mine.
I bolted as soon as the auction ended, heels clicking against the marble floors. I had to see who was in that box.
But by the time I reached it, it was already empty.
All I saw was the back of a tall figure disappearing around a corner, long strides, expensive coat.
I took a step forward to follow when Jack's voice cut through the hallway like a blade.
"Why?" he growled, storming toward me. "Why do you always have to fight me on everything?"
I turned slowly to face him, my expression unreadable.
The night was far from over.