Chapter 70:
Etta, basking in the reflected glory, strutted in beside Brenton, her head tilted back in a display of ostentatious pride.
As Etta prattled on playfully, Brenton quietly disengaged his arm, his face clouding over with annoyance. When Harlee had gone missing years earlier, Brenton recalled his parents had redirected their affection toward Etta as a way to move on from their anguish, treating Etta nearly as a daughter in their own right. The Sanderson boys were required to view Etta as if she were their sister.
But now, with Harlee’s return, Brenton’s priorities had realigned.
Etta’s charm no longer held his attention.
“Etta, perhaps you could take some time to explore here by yourself? I need to catch up with Harlee,” Brenton interjected, turning his attention to Harlee.
“Brenton!” Etta’s exclamation came with a petulant stamp of her foot, her eyes alight with a mix of anger and jealousy as she watched him walk away toward Harlee.
“Don’t drift too far. I have something for you,” Brenton said to Harlee.
As Harlee prepared to sneak out, Brenton unexpectedly turned away from Etta and approached her instead, a shadow of worry crossing his face.
Brenton advanced a few paces, then paused and beckoned Harlee to follow him.
Harlee raised an eyebrow. Was he about to present the welcome gift he had hinted at?
Reluctantly accepting his gesture, Harlee followed him upstairs. Settling into the plush leather sofa on the second floor, Harlee took her place as Brenton eased down next to her, the weight of their past and present filling the space between them.
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Harlee’s gaze drifted downwards, where a jade sculpture was the center of attention on the auction stage below.
A waitress, clad in traditional attire, glided toward Harlee and Brenton gracefully, balancing a tray with glasses of red wine. With a warm, inviting smile, she delicately placed the tray before them. Without much thought, Harlee reached out and took a glass.
Above, on the top floor, a tall figure loomed by the expansive floor-to-ceiling windows, surveying the bustling auction room below through tinted glass.
His aura was both magnetic and formidable, marked by a prominent nose and eyes that shimmered with astute, calculating intelligence.
“Mr. Green.” Hamilton tapped lightly on the office door, his approach solemn and respectful.
“Speak,” Rhys commanded, his voice low, lips barely parting.
“We’ve set everything up on-site as you wanted, but there’s no word from Quick Cameo yet. It’s already five minutes past the agreed time.”
A shadow of annoyance crossed Rhys’ face upon hearing this.
“A person who can’t stick to a simple timeline claims to be the world’s top hacker?” He scoffed.
“Mr. Green, what’s our plan if Quick Cameo doesn’t make it on time?” Hamilton asked, his voice carrying a note of unease.
A tense silence hung in the air before Rhys turned to look at Hamilton, his eyes flashing with a steely glint.
“Mobilize all the backup hackers and establish a defensive perimeter. I’ll give the orders when it’s time.”
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