THE JANITOR HUSBAND IS NOW A CENTIMILLIONAIRE KING

CHAPTER 7

Victor's face transformed from smug confidence to blazing fury, his jaw clenching as Alexander's words hung in the air like a thrown gauntlet.

 The veins in his temple pulsed visibly as he stepped forward, his fists clenched at his sides.

"You arrogant bastard," Victor snarled, his voice low and dangerous.

 "You think you can just waltz in here and mock me? Mock all of us? I've had enough of your pathetic little games."

The crowd around them shifted uncomfortably, sensing the raw anger radiating from the Holt heir. 

Several guests exchanged meaningful glances—they'd seen Victor's temper before, knew how explosive he could become when his ego was challenged.

"This isn't a game, Victor," Alexander replied calmly, his voice carrying a quiet authority that seemed to cut through the tension. "I simply stated a fact."

"A fact?" Victor's laugh was harsh and bitter.

 "The only fact here is that you're a delusional nobody trying to impress people way above your station. But go ahead—I want to see exactly how you plan to take that ring from me. This should be entertaining."

Harrison Webb rubbed his hands together with barely concealed glee.

 "Oh, this is going to be quite the show. I haven't seen drama like this at a charity auction in years."

Patricia Vandemeer leaned closer to her husband.

 "The poor man really thinks he can compete with Victor Holt? This is going to be absolutely mortifying for him."

"And for his girlfriend," Marcus Chen added with a smirk.

 "Ms. Sterling's reputation might take a hit when her 'boyfriend' makes a fool of himself in front of the entire city elite."

Sophia simply smiled, her green eyes sparkling with what looked suspiciously like anticipation. "Oh, I think you'll all find tonight far more interesting than you imagine."

As if summoned by the growing tension, the evening's master of ceremonies stepped onto the small stage at the front of the ballroom. 

Edmund Blackwood himself—a distinguished man in his seventies with silver hair and piercing blue eyes—raised his hands for attention.

"Ladies and gentlemen," his voice carried easily through the ballroom's acoustics, "welcome to the Meridian Foundation's annual charity auction. Tonight, we gather not just to acquire beautiful objects, but to support the children's hospital that serves our entire community."

Polite applause rippled through the crowd as guests began moving toward the rows of elegant chairs arranged before the stage. 

Alexander found himself seated in the third row, with Sophia beside him, her hand resting lightly on his arm.

 Several rows ahead, Victor sat with Lila, his back rigid with barely contained anger.

"Our first item tonight," Edmund continued as an assistant wheeled out a glass display case, "is a stunning diamond necklace donated by the Pemberton family. The starting bid is fifty thousand dollars."

The auction began with practiced efficiency, item after item being presented to the crowd.

 A vintage painting went for two hundred thousand.

 A rare sculpture commanded three hundred thousand. Each time the gavel fell, polite applause followed.

Alexander sat quietly through it all, occasionally sipping from a glass of water but showing no interest in any of the proceedings.

 Instead, he seemed more focused on the small appetizers being served by circulating waiters, sampling the smoked salmon and caviar with apparent enjoyment.

Victor, meanwhile, was making quite a show of his participation. 

When a sapphire bracelet was presented, he bid confidently, ultimately winning it for one hundred and twenty thousand dollars.

"For you, darling," he said loudly enough for nearby guests to hear, slipping the bracelet onto Lila's wrist. "Nothing but the finest for the woman I love."

Lila smiled and thanked him, but her attention kept drifting to Alexander. 

She watched as he laughed at something Sophia whispered in his ear, how comfortable and relaxed he seemed despite the earlier confrontation.

 There was something different about him tonight—a confidence she'd never seen during their marriage.

"The man really is all talk," Harrison whispered to his wife, loud enough for others to hear.

 "Look at him just sitting there, not even pretending to participate."

"Probably can't afford the starting bids," Patricia whispered back. 

"I feel sorry for Ms. Sterling. She's going to be so embarrassed."

Victor won another piece—an emerald ring—which he also presented to Lila with great fanfare. "This green matches your eyes perfectly," he declared, his voice carrying clearly through their section.

"He's really laying it on thick," Sophia murmured to Alexander, amusement dancing in her voice.

"Let him," Alexander replied quietly. "His moment in the spotlight won't last much longer."

As the evening progressed, Victor's confidence grew with each successful bid. He'd spent over half a million dollars already, each purchase met with impressed murmurs from the crowd.

 Lila wore his gifts, but Alexander noticed how her fingers kept touching the new jewelry nervously, how her eyes continued to find him across the rows of seats.

"And now," Edmund Blackwood's voice took on a note of reverence, "we come to tonight's most extraordinary offering. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you a piece from my personal collection—an ancient ring of mysterious origin."

The lights dimmed as assistants wheeled out a special display case, its contents illuminated by carefully positioned spotlights.

 The ring sat on black velvet, its obsidian stone seeming to absorb the light around it while the carved runes along its band appeared to shimmer with their own inner glow.

Alexander felt his breath catch in his throat. 

The moment he saw the ring, something deep inside his chest tightened with recognition.

 The runes were different from those on the ring he wore, but unmistakably related—like two halves of a whole waiting to be reunited. His head began to throb with the echo of forgotten memories, fragments of faces and voices that felt tantalizingly familiar.

"This remarkable artifact," Edmund continued, "is believed to date back over a thousand years. The craftsmanship is unlike anything in our museums, and the materials suggest origins we can only speculate about. Tonight, all proceeds from its sale will benefit the children's hospital expansion project."

The crowd leaned forward in their seats, captivated by the ring's mysterious presence. 

Even the chattering of conversations had stopped, replaced by an almost reverent silence.

"The starting bid," Edmund announced, "is five million dollars."

A collective intake of breath swept through the ballroom.

 Even among the wealthy elite present, five million was serious money—the kind of sum that required careful consideration even for the richest families.

For several long moments, silence reigned. Finally, a tentative voice called out from the back: "Five point one million."

Another pause, then: "Five point three million."

The bidding was slow and cautious, each increase met with longer pauses as potential bidders calculated their limits. 

By the time the price reached six point five million, only three bidders remained active.

Victor watched the proceedings with growing excitement.

 He'd been waiting for this moment, his chance to demonstrate his superiority in front of everyone who mattered. 

When the bidding stalled at six point eight million, he saw his opening.

"Eight million," he called out confidently, his voice carrying clearly through the ballroom.

The effect was immediate and dramatic. Gasps of admiration rippled through the crowd, and the remaining bidders fell silent, clearly outmatched by such a bold increase.

"Eight million dollars," Edmund repeated, his voice tinged with amazement.

 "Do I hear eight point one?"

Silence stretched through the ballroom. Several guests turned to look at Victor with obvious respect and envy.

"Going once," Edmund called.

Victor's chest swelled with pride.

 He could feel Lila's admiring gaze, could sense the impressed whispers of their fellow guests. 

This was his moment of triumph, his declaration of dominance over everyone present—especially Alexander.

"Going twice," Edmund continued.

Victor turned slightly in his seat, catching Alexander's eye with a smirk of absolute victory. 

The ring was his. Alexander's boastful claims had proven to be nothing but empty words.

"Going—"

"Ten million."

The words cut through the silence like a lightning strike. Every head in the ballroom turned toward the source of the bid, mouths dropping open in shock as they saw Alexander rising calmly from his seat.

Victor's face went white, then red, then white again as the reality hit him. The crowd erupted in stunned whispers, unable to believe what they'd just witnessed.

"Did he just...?"

"Ten million dollars?"

"That's impossible..."

"How could he possibly...?"

Alexander stood there calmly, his hand resting on Sophia's shoulder, as if he'd just ordered coffee rather than placed a bid that had shocked the entire city elite into silence.

The ring, and the memories it promised to unlock, was calling to him. And he was finally ready to answer.