Chapter 73:
Harlee’s lips curved into a subtle smirk, appreciating the irony of Brenton’s outward toughness masking his softer side. The price was already well above its true worth.
“Five hundred and twenty million, going thr—”
“Seven hundred million.” The abrupt interjection sliced through the tension in the room like a sharp knife.
The auctioneer, momentarily startled, regained his composure swiftly and resoundingly declared, “Seven hundred million, once!”
Harlee’s smile froze, her eyes darting toward the origin of the voice.
A figure was barely discernible behind a black curtain on the opposite side of the room.
Despite the barrier, Harlee could feel an intense and almost tangible stare on her, and there was a subtle, almost familiar feeling to it.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
Brenton abruptly lifted his head, his gaze sharp and calculating.
He had meticulously researched the financial capabilities of every competitor present. None should have had deeper pockets than his. Who dared to challenge him?
“Seven hundred and fifty million!” Brenton countered loudly, throwing down the gauntlet.
However, the moment he spoke, a staff member tasked with overseeing the bidding approached with a look of regret.
“I’m sorry, sir, but the system shows your predeposit is only seven hundred million.”
“I’ll have someone bring the additional funds later.
For now, just register the bid,” Brenton replied urgently.
gⱯlnσν𝓮𝓁s﹒𝓬𝗈𝗺, the heart of fiction
The staff member looked troubled.
“I apologize, sir, but our rules mandate that we can’t increase the deposit on a temporary basis to maintain fairness.”
Meanwhile, the auctioneer’s voice echoed through the hall, announcing the second call.
Brenton’s brow furrowed deeply in frustration.
“Are you really going to refuse additional money? I can increase my bid by five hundred million.”
The staff member hesitated, struggling to replace words.
Just then, Harlee’s calm voice cut through the tension.
“Brenton, just let it go.” It seemed like destiny was at play. Perhaps she shouldn’t hold on to the past.
“No, I can’t accept this!” Brenton remembered Harlee’s earlier plea, stood defiantly, and called out to a bidder across the room, “To the person over there, if you relinquish the brooch to me, I’ll double your price. What do you say?”
A man with a scarred face turned to consult someone hidden behind the curtain.
After a brief nod, he turned back to Brenton and responded icily, “I’m sorry. My master has set his sights on this brooch.
Even if you offered ten times the amount, he wouldn’t be swayed.”
Brenton’s hands tensed into tight fists, blindsided by the unexpected turn of events.
The auctioneer’s voice resonated through the room, announcing the third call.
Just as the tension seemed to dissipate, Harlee rose from her chair, signaling to Brenton that it was time to leave.
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