As the auction piece was brought out, the lights in the room slowly dimmed.
Celestine’s violet gown shimmered with a subtle silver glow in the shadows.
She looked radiant.
“What was that?” Celestine thought she’d misheard.
She glanced sideways at the man seated next to her.
Gideon silently cursed himself for speaking out loud, then quickly raised his glass and composed himself. “Nothing,” he replied, all seriousness.
Celestine studied him for a moment longer, making sure he was alright, then turned her attention back to the rest of the auction items.
These pieces were even more valuable than the rare pen from earlier, but none of the final bids caused quite the same stir.
She spotted several paintings she’d only seen before in passing online and in art books–masterpieces she’d never expected to see with her own eyes.
Unfortunately, her bank account couldn’t compete.
Still, just being able to feast her eyes on them was enough.
Meanwhile, the mysterious Bidder Number 1 was still relentlessly raising the paddle, snapping up one item after another.
A few of these auction pieces even hinted at something bigger beneath the surface. During the final exhibition round, the organizers rolled out a collection of jewelry pieces that had been donated for charity.
Among them was a deep red jade bracelet, its color lustrous and timeless, the quality unmistakably superb.
Celestine’s eyes widened in shock.
That was… her mother’s bracelet.
Years ago, after her parents were killed in a car crash, the police returned only a handful of their possessions–most of their personal effects had vanished under strange circumstances.
This bracelet had been a family heirloom, passed from her grandmother to her
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mother, worn every single day.
Celestine had always assumed it was destroyed in the accident.
But there it was, perfectly intact on the display table.
She could even spot the tiny scratch on the inside–almost invisible unless you knew exactly where to look.
She was certain. This was her mother’s bracelet.
A thousand thoughts raced through Celestine’s mind.
But why was her mother’s bracelet here, of all places?
There had always been unanswered questions about that car crash.
Even something Murdock Selwyn had said that day hinted at a deeper mystery.
A dull ache throbbed in Celestine’s head.
She’d been so wrapped up in her drawn–out divorce from Chester lately that she’d almost managed to push all this to the back of her mind.
She felt like a fool.
On stage, the auctioneer was just introducing the bracelet.
Celestine listened in silence.
The date, the material–everything matched.
But what about its provenance?
“Excuse me, could you tell me who donated this bracelet?” Celestine asked quietly.
The auctioneer offered a regretful smile. “It was gifted anonymously by a generous benefactor. I’m afraid we can’t disclose any private information.”
Disappointment flickered across Celestine’s face.
Her instincts screamed that whoever was behind this bracelet had something to do with her parents‘ accident./
If not the perpetrator, then at least a witness to what really happened.
S
Gideon, watching her turmoil, leaned over. “Need my help with anything?”
If she wanted the bracelet, he could find a way to get it for her.
Celestine snapped out of her thoughts. “No, really–it’s fine.”
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Chapter 277
She’d already troubled him enough.
“Mr. Prescott! There you are–I’ve been looking all over!”
A young man walked up, grinning, glass in hand.
Celestine took the hint and excused herself, giving them some privacy.
Gideon narrowed his eyes, watching how swiftly she slipped away.
What, did she think he was some kind of monster?
“Oh? Did I just interrupt a private moment with your lovely lady?” the young man teased, following Gideon’s gaze.
Celestine’s graceful figure was already halfway across the room, moving fast.
Gideon shot him a glare. “Knock it off.”
Mack Becker just grinned. “Is that any way to talk to your uncle?”
After leaving, Celestine couldn’t stop thinking about the bracelet.
Without realizing, she wandered over to the cocktail bar and ordered a drink.
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Suddenly, the quiet whirr of a motorized wheelchair broke the spell.
Celestine looked up.
It was Lance–missing all evening–with Joanna beside him, her eyes red and puffy, as though she’d just been crying.
“I’m sorry, Celly. I know I messed up.”
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