2025-01-20 14:21:57The number echoed across the hall, silencing the faint murmurs.
immediately gasps rippled through the crowd, their admiration palpable. “Such generosity,” someone whispered, their tone full of awe. “No wonder he’s part of the Blake family,” another chimed in. Meanwhile, Caleb basked in the praise, already imagining the ring being placed in his hands. The room had gone silent. No one dared to outbid him, knowing it was just a waste of time. But just as the auctioneer prepared to call out the final sale, a calm, steady voice interrupted. “Ten million.” Immediately the room froze. All heads turned in unison toward Raymond, their expressions ranging from shock to disbelief. “Did… did he just…?” someone stammered, their voice trailing off. “Is he serious?” another whispered, eyes wide with astonishment. Upon hearing what Raymond just said, Caleb leaned back in his chair, his smirk growing wider with each passing moment. His eyes darted between Raymond and Malisa, convinced that whatever boldness Raymond showed was because of her backing. ‘There’s no way he’s doing this on his own,’ Caleb thought smugly. ‘He probably doesn’t even know the rules.’ Mr. Drake’s auction was well-known for its strict policy: the bidder and the payer had to be the same person. No one could swoop in and cover the cost. It was a rule that safeguarded the auction’s exclusivity and ensured only those with real wealth could participate. Without being told Caleb was certain Raymond hadn’t bothered to understand these details. He’s walking right into his own humiliation, and he can't wait to see how everyone is going to mock him for being so useless, and stupid. However, seeing the flicker of determination in Raymond’s eyes as he gazed at the ring, Caleb decided to teach him a lesson, confident he could crush him easily. He sneered, raised his paddle, adding a modest increase to the bid. “10.1 million dollars” Seeing Caleb bidding again the crowd hummed in approval, their attention now fully locked on the battle for the ring. They all thought Raymond would give up now, that his recent show was just for formality. However Raymond didn’t hesitate. With the same calm expression, he lifted his paddle and increased the bid again, drawing more gasps from the crowd. “11 million dollars.” Caleb’s smirk deepened. The fish bit the bait. He raised his paddle again. “11.1 million dollars.” Meanwhile, the murmurs among the crowd started growing louder. They couldn't believe someone so useless as Raymond would be the one challenging Caleb of all people. “He has no idea what he’s doing,” someone whispered. “Does he even know the payer has to be the bidder? He’s making a fool of himself.” “Look at him—so calm. He’s bluffing for sure.” The noise of judgment filled the room, but Raymond remained detached, his focus solely on the auctioneer. At that moment Malisa, sitting beside him, glanced around at the skeptical faces. Her smile was faint but steady, her posture relaxed. She didn’t need to say anything to reassure Raymond, she knew how much he's worth. Without wasting any more time Raymond raised his paddle again. “12 million dollars.” Immediately the room fell silent again for a moment, the crowd stunned. “He’s still bidding?” one person whispered, their disbelief clear. “What’s he thinking? He doesn’t have that kind of money.” “He’s going to regret this,” another scoffed. Seeing Raymond's attitude Dahlia couldn’t hold back any longer. The tension in the room was palpable, and Raymond’s unwavering confidence of something he can't afford unnerved her. She leaned forward, her voice low but sharp enough for him to hear. “Raymond, stop this. Don’t be reckless. You don’t know what you’re doing.” However Raymond didn't respond immediately, his calm eyes fixed on the auctioneer as the current bid hovered in the air. Her frustration grew. “Do you even understand where you are?” she hissed. “That black card you’re holding—it’s fake. It won’t work here. You’re going to make a fool of yourself, and the consequences won’t just be embarrassment. Do you know what happens to people who cause trouble at Mr. Drake's auctions?” At that moment Raymond finally turned his head slightly, his expression unbothered. “I don’t need you to worry about me,” he said evenly, his voice steady and composed. Immediately Dahlia’s breath hitched at his calmness. She couldn't understand why Raymond looked so certain. At that moment Caleb’s smirk widened as he observed the exchange. He leaned back in his chair, his arrogance practically radiating from him. “See that?” he muttered to the guest next to him, gesturing toward Dahlia and Raymond. “Even his ex-wife knows he’s out of his depth. This will be fun.” Raising his paddle, Caleb increased his bid by another modest amount, his tone dripping with mockery. “15 million dollars.” “Let’s see if he still dares to play along,” he said loud enough for the crowd to hear, earning a few chuckles of agreement. At that moment, sitting beside Raymond, Malisa folded her arms, her lips curving into a faint smirk. ‘Let him dig his own hole.’ she thought, her eyes glinting with amusement. She had seen enough to know where this was headed. The murmurs in the crowd grew louder as all eyes shifted to Raymond, expecting him to fold under the pressure. “Is he going to back down now?” someone whispered. “He’s been bluffing the whole time. Watch him try to weasel his way out.” Raymond’s lips curved into a sneer. He was tired of this game. Without a moment’s hesitation, he raised his paddle again. “50 million dollars.” The moment Raymond made his final bid, the room erupted into chaos. Guests whispered furiously among themselves, their voices a mixture of shock and disbelief. “Did he really just bid that much?” one man murmured, wide-eyed. “And to think he doesn't even look, move, or disturb, for someone who doesn't have anything to brag about.” At that moment Caleb cheek raised, almost covering his eyes, knowing he had gotten Raymond where he wanted him. Without wasting any more time he stood up barely containing his glee. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, his voice filled with exaggerated politeness. “I think we can all agree that one fifty million is no small amount. To avoid any unnecessary confusion or delays, why don’t we verify if Mr. Raymond actually has the means to back up his bid?”
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Chapter 362
And then with the easy, unhurried calm of someone who is about to say something entirely ordinary, something that requires no fanfare, no buildup, no performance she looked at the table, at the assembled faces of the people she had known for years, at Penelope's bright, calculating smile and Serena's frozen neutrality and Eric's carefully controlled expression and Derek's genuine curiosity, and she said:"Raymond is my fiancé."The words landed in the center of the room like a stone dropped into still water.Not thrown. Not hurled with dramatic force or delivered with theatrical timing. Just—dropped. Released from Melissa's mouth with the same casual, unhurried ease that she might have used to announce the time of day or the color of her dress."Raymond is my fiancé."Five words.Twenty-three letters.And in the space of approximately two seconds, the entire social architecture of the room the careful hierarchy that had been built over years of interactions, the established narratives
Chapter 361
Melissa and Raymond were moving toward the section of the room where the principal table was set, where Melissa's place had been held by the implicit social reservation that operates in groups of people who know each other well enough to maintain each other's spaces.They sat.Side by side.Serena watched them sit.Her expression was doing several things at once—processing, calculating, resenting, and performing a neutrality that was not entirely convincing.Penelope leaned slightly toward her."I thought she doesn't bring men anywhere," Penelope said, in a voice pitched below the general ambient noise of the room."She doesn't," Serena said."Then who is—""I don't know."They looked at Raymond.Raymond, who was looking around the room with the mild interest of someone taking in a new environment, happened to glance in their direction at that moment.He met Serena's gaze briefly.Held it for exactly as long as was socially natural.Then looked away.Serena felt, unreasonably and irri
Chapter 360
At the other end of the table, Serena was still talking. Something about the fine that should be imposed for late arrivals—the group had established a tradition, early in their years together, of charging small fines for various social infractions, mostly as an excuse for humor, mostly as a way of generating the kind of low-stakes conflict that gives gatherings their energy."Honestly," Eric said, not loudly, not with particular forcefulness, but with the quiet authority of someone whose relative silence has given their words a weight that louder people in the room have not accumulated, "since Melissa is late, we should start the event. This attitude has gone on for too long. If she comes and we've started without her, maybe that's the message that actually lands." He paused. "We call it out. Properly. Tonight."Around the table, heads nodded.There was the particular satisfaction of a group that has been waiting for someone to say the thing they had all been thinking, and here it was
Chapter 359
Then at the people around her, ensuring she had an audience, which she did."Melissa ought to have been here by now," she said, and her voice carried the particular quality of someone making an observation that is also a performance aimed at the room as much as at the specific people around her. "Why would she be keeping everybody here waiting? She's supposed to be here. She's already five minutes late." She looked around with the expression of someone who is managing a reasonable inconvenience with admirable patience. "She's supposed to be here. Why is she keeping everybody waiting?"The question landed in the air of the room, and several people who had been engaged in their own conversations looked up not because they were particularly concerned about Melissa's tardiness, but because Serena's voice had the projection and timing of someone who has learned how to command a room's attention.The response came from the other side of the table.Penelope.Who was, if Raymond's reading of
Chapter 358
He moved away from the window.Began to pace not the agitated, emotional pacing of Benjamin on the other side of the city, but the deliberate, rhythmic pacing of a man whose mind works better when his body is in motion, who has known this about himself for decades and has stopped apologizing for it.His thoughts moved.Connected.Stretched between points, the way a spider's web stretches between anchor points—thin, nearly invisible, but structured, purposeful, holding a shape that is designed to catch things.*Jefferson's grandfather,* he thought. *The old man told me. He told me that he was going to Flame Fire Mountain. That there was someone he was waiting for. He asked me to come along.*He stopped pacing.*I was busy. I couldn't go. And he went alone.*He resumed.*And the person who killed Jefferson's grandson—the account was that the person ran. Ran into Flame Fire Mountain. Ran directly into Flame Fire Mountain as if it were somewhere they were going, somewhere they intended to
Chapter 357
Not what had he done. Not whether he was guilty of the thing that Mr. Black suspected him of. But fundamentally, essentially, at the root of everything: *who is this person?*Because Aldous Mercer had spent fifty years reading people had built his entire career, his entire survival, on his ability to look at a person and understand what they were and Raymond was someone he could not read.Could not place.Could not fit into any of the categories that fifty years of experience had taught him to use.That, more than anything else, was what bothered him.That, more than the suspicion, more than the picture, more than Mr. Black's carefully hedged intel—that was what made him reach for his phone without wasting another second and dial.The line rang once.Twice.Then Mr. Black picked up, the way he always did—without a greeting, without an acknowledgment, simply present on the line and waiting."I know this person," Aldous said, and he said it without preamble, without softening, because s
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Reader Comments
I’m confused. The opening bid was 30 million. Why is he only offering 10 million now?