Chapter 17
rit sign?” She shoves the pen at her father “Dad, sign it! Do you want to go to prison?”
ther Rather’s hand shook like a leat, but he finally scrawled his signature
Lucas gestures for his team to collect the documents: “Someone will pick up Miss Cross at 7 PM tonight.”
He turned toward the door, then paused. “Oh, I suggest you dress nicely. After all…” He glanced back at Madison’s pale but still beautiful face. “This is your last remaining value”
Night fell over the city as a black Mercedes pulled up to Empire Auction House’s VIP entrance.
Madison was escorted out by two female bodyguards
She wore a white silk gown and the Cross family’s last valuable possession around her neck–a diamond necklace
worth a million dollars.
But now, that necklace felt more like a collar of shame.
‘I don’t want to… let me go!” she instinctively struggled, but was forcibly dragged into the elevator.
The auction hall glittered with gold and crystal, about twenty masked bidders already seated.
Madison was taken backstage where a stone faced attendant fitted her with silver handcuffs–exquisitely crafted and set with tiny diamonds that sparkled under the lights
These were custom made by Mr. Sinclair,” the attendant said flatly.
Madison immediately recognized them–identical to the ones Aria had worn years ago.
The auction began.
First came several items from the Cross family collection: paintings, antiques, jewelry….
“Next is tonight’s featured lot,” the auctioneer’s voice carried through speakers “Miss Madison Cross, 25 years old, 57“, skilled in piano and ballet…”
The curtain parted to blinding spotlights.
Madison was pushed onto the platform as excited murmurs rose from the bidders below.
She saw greasy middle aged tycoons, nouveau riche with scarred faces, even some of the playboys who had once pursued her.
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Chapter 17
Now they all wore masks like a pack of wolves waiting to devour their prey.
“Starting bid five million, minimum increments of five hundred thousand.”
“Six million!”
“Eight million!”
“Twelve million!”
Bids flew fast and furious. Madison desperately searched the second floor VIP box, where a tall silhouette was barely visible behind one way glass.
She knew who it was.
“Lucas Sinclair!” she screamed with everything she had. “Please… I know I was wrong…”
In the VIP box, Lucas swirled his wine glass, his gaze fixed on a painting on the wall.
I was by Aria’s favorite artist.
He remembered three years ago when Aria had stood on an auction platform just like this, looking at him with the same desperation. Back then, he’d chosen to walk away.
Twenty million!” A gravelly voice called from the back.
The auctioneer scanned the room: “Twenty million once… twenty million twice…”
Madison’s screams were drowned out by the bidders‘ applause.
As she was dragged from the platform, she looked one last time at the VIP box.
The figure behind the glass had already stood and left without a trace of nostalgia.
The gavel fell with finality,
When Lucas left the auction house, the rain had stopped.
He pulled out his phone, looking at the lockscreen photo of Aria at a Millbrook bookstore–taken by a private investigator last week.
She was teaching a little girl to read a picture book, her smile brighter than sunshine.
“Mr. Sinclair, back to the office?” his driver asked respectfully.
Lucas shook his head: “To the airport.”
13:21 C
