114 Emeralds Won. Esteem Weighed
114 Emeralds Won, Esteem Weighed
Mrs. Livingston turned her attention to me, her eyes quickly assessing my appearance. “Vance? Are you related to Victor Vance by an hance?”
Two more hours dragged by before the final gavel fell. People began filing out, their excited chatter about acquisitions and astronomical bids filling the grand hall.
Outside, the cool evening air provided temporary relief from the suffocating atmosphere inside.
“Let’s go,” I said to Chloe, finding my voice again.
Vivienne noticed our brief exchange. Her eyes darted between Damien and me, perceiving what had transpired. A slow, satisfied smile curved her lips as she pressed herself closer to Damien, claiming her territory.
“What is it?” Chloe asked, noticing my expression.
“You did. That old bat Livingston was completely out of line bringing up your mother.”
“He was my uncle,” I replied.
“Let’s slip out now,” Chloe suggested, gathering her purse. “Before we run into the happy couple.”
I shrugged. “I’m used to it.”
“Still, one hundred and twenty million is-”
Chloe cursed under her breath. “Delete it. Block the number. She’s trying to get a
reaction.”
I forced a smile. “Did I? It doesn’t feel like it.”
My phone dinged with a message notification. I glanced down, expecting it to be from Julian about tomorrow’s meeting.
I managed a nod, though we both knew it was a lie. “Just waiting for this to end so we can leave.”
We turned to find an elegant older woman approaching us, her silver hair styled
114 Emeralds Won, Esteem Weighed
impeccably, diamonds glittering at her ears and throat.
Mrs. Livingston’s gaze flicked between Chloe and me. “Well, it’s wonderful to see young women attending these events. Cultural appreciation is so important.”
But it was too late. Damien looked up, and ours met across the crowded room. For a brief, suspended moment, I thought I saw something flicker in his gaze–recognition, discomfort, perhaps even guilt. But as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, replaced by that familiar cold indifference.
“I’m proud of you,” Chloe said as we waited for the valet to bring our car. “You held your head high in there.”
“It wasn’t about the emeralds,” I replied quietly. “It was about winning.”
Chloe smiled politely. “I had a prior commitment. May I introduce my friend? This is
Elara Vance.”
Her words were pleasant, but I caught the subtle shift in her demeanor–the slightly patronizing tone, the way her eyes no longer quite met mine. I’d seen it countless times before. In her mind, my family history had already categorized me: damaged goods from a failing dynasty.
My spine stiffened. My mother’s battle with mental illness had been fodder for gossip columns for years. Some wounds never fully heal, especially when strangers insist on prodding them.
“You know what the worst part is?” I continued, surprising myself with my candor. “I still care. I still let it hurt me. After everything, I should be immune by now.”
Her smile dimmed slightly. “I see. I knew Victor quite well in the past. Such a brilliant mind. Such a shame what happened to the Vance Corporation after his passing.”
Chloe reached over to squeeze my hand. “That’s because you’re human, Elara. And humans feel pain when they’re treated badly.”
We drove in silence for several minutes before Chloe spoke again. “Do you regret filing
for divorce?”
As we turned to leave, I caught sight of them–Damien and Vivienne emerging from a side door, likely after finalizing payment for their purchases. Vivienne looked radiant, clutching a velvet box that undoubtedly held the emeralds that should have belonged
(
114 Emeralds Won, Esteem Weighed
to my grandmother.
“We should be going,” Chloe said, sensing my discomfort. “It was lovely seeing you,
Mrs. Livingston.”
That dismissal hurt more than it should have. I n after everything, some foolish part of me still hoped for… what? Acknowledgment? Regret? I wasn’t sure anymore.
I thought about it carefully. “No. I regret staying as long as I did. I regret believing things might change.”
“Mrs. Livingston,” Chloe greeted warmly, accepting the woman’s air kisses. “How lovely to see you.”
The familiar sting of family shame pricked at me. Our family’s company had crumbled after Uncle Victor’s death. Poor management and market changes had reduced what was once a technological powerhouse to a struggling mid–size business.
Instead, it was from an unknown number. I opened it to find a photo of the emerald jewelry set laid out on what appeared to be Vivienne’s dressing table.
But like everything else, they now belonged to Vivienne.
“Indeed! The Gardenia Charity Ball was simply not the same without you last month.”
“And your mother was Caroline Bellweather, wasn’t she?” Mrs. Livingston continued, her voice dropping. “I remember reading about her… condition.”
He looked away first, deliberately turning his attention back to Vivienne as if I were nothing more than a stranger he’d accidentally made eye contact with.
We rose from our seats and made our way toward the exit. The emerald jewelry set weighed on my mind. Grandmother Clara had mentioned those emeralds so many times, describing how they had once belonged to our family before financial hardship forced her mother to sell them. I’d hoped to surprise her by bringing them back to the Bellweather collection.
“Yes,” I answered simply, refusing to elaborate.
“Keep walking,” Chloe urged quietly.
“You shouldn’t have to be.”
114 Emeralds Won, Esteem Weighed
As we drove through the night, I made a silent promise to myself: this was the last time Vivienne would see me retreat. The last time I would allow myself to be outbid, outmaneuvered, or outshone without a fight.
“Are you okay?” Chloe whispered, concern etched across her face.
Elara’s POV
Without a word, I turned the phone so she could see.
As we walked toward the exit, I could feel Mrs. Livingston’s curious gaze following us. I imagined her mental calculations: Elara Vance, from the failing Vance family, with a history of maternal mental illness, now apparently on bad terms with her powerful husband. Another tick in the column of my inadequacies.
“Chloe Grant? Is that you?”
“The emeralds weren’t worth that much,” Chloe said after a while. “Vivienne overpaid drastically.”
When we married, Damien had never been extravagant with me. Every purchase required justification, every expense accounted for. But with Vivienne, money flowed
like water.
The valet pulled up with Chloe’s car, and we slid inside. As we drove away from the elegant auction house, I stared out the window at the glittering city lights.
I stared at the screen, my chest tightening.
The auction continued, but I barely registered the items being presented. My mind kept replaying Damien’s dismissal of my call. I’d been reduced to a stranger in his contacts list–someone not even worth answering.
A message followed: “They match my eyes perfectly, don’t you think? Thank you for dropping out of the bidding so graciously. Some things are simply meant to be with their rightful owner.”
I froze, momentarily unable to move. Damien’s tall frame commanded attention even in this crowd of elites. His hand rested possessively on Vivienne’s lower back, guiding her through the throng of people.
Next time, I wouldn’t be so easy to dismiss.
<
114 Emeralds Won, Esteem Weighed
“It’s nothing to Damien,” I interrupted. “That’s what makes it so unfair. He can drop that amount without blinking, just to make Vivienne happy.”
I did as Chloe suggested, but the damage was done. The image of those emeralds–my grandmother’s emeralds–displayed like trophies on Vivienne’s table, burned in my
mind.
Comment 3
O
Leave the first comment for this chapter.
图
Send Gift
Swipe left to continue >
View All
