The Goldmaster

011. Goldmaster

He had just interrupted Jackie.

Goldmaster’s right-hand man.

Whispers erupted like wildfire.

“Is he insane? He just told Jackie to wait—”

“Who the hell does he think he is?”

All eyes were on Lucas now. But he stood there, perfectly calm.

The elite guests stood rooted, their collective breath caught in a web of disbelief. Whispers rippled through the crowd, sharp and urgent, as eyes darted between Jackie and Lucas.

“Did you see that?” a woman hissed to her companion, who shook his head, lips pursed, as if denying it could undo the sight.

Across the room, a silver-haired tycoon muttered,

“Impossible. Jackie doesn’t bow—not to anyone.” His words carried conviction, but his furrowed brow betrayed doubt.

“It’s a mistake, right? A trick of the light?” another voice trembled, seeking reassurance, but their eyes stayed glued to Jackie’s lowering head.

“No way,” he murmured, more to himself than the cluster of guests around him.

“Jackie’s the king here, this kid’s a nobody.” Yet, as Jackie’s posture bent further, the mogul’s confident smirk faltered, replaced by a flicker of unease.

The room buzzed with nervous energy—half the guests convincing themselves they’d misseen, the other half grappling with the impossible reality.

Jackie, the untouchable, the one who commanded every room, was bending. To him? The question hung unspoken, as the crowd waited, hearts pounding, for what came next.

But just before he could bend further, Lucas lifted a hand gently.

“Please,” Lucas said, “you don’t need to do that.”

Jackie stopped mid-motion, confused. The tension hung thick.

The guards, the guests—even Alex—were all frozen in place, watching.

Lucas offered a light smile, speaking with humility.

“You’re far too kind, sir. Even to someone like me, a nobody.”

The hall fell into utter silence.

Lucas continued, his tone soft but clear.

“Everyone in Berkley speaks of you so highly. They say you’re Goldmaster’s most trusted arm—a man known not only for his power, but for your restraint, your sense of justice, and your humility.”

“The way you uphold his name… it’s inspiring.”

Jackie stood still. For the first time in years, he showed something beyond control and silence.

It was surprise. True, unguarded surprise.

His master had just praised him. In public. In front of everyone.

Jackie straightened slowly, his posture regaining form. He took a quiet breath and quickly understood—Lucas was hiding his identity.

There was a reason for this act. And clearly, something far more serious was unfolding here.

He lowered his tone.

“What should be done here?” he asked respectfully.

No one could believe what they were witnessing. A whole Jackie, asking for this young man’s opinion?

Lucas stepped forward slowly.

“I suspect Alex Bulford isn’t just unlucky,” he said calmly.

“You don’t end up with multiple forged items by mistake. That catalog is too polished and too curated. He’s likely done this before. Quietly, over the years.”

People glanced at each other. The murmuring started again.

“And tonight,” Lucas went on,

“He tried to do it under Goldmaster’s name. That puts his reputation at risk—and yours too.”

“But more importantly, it puts every honest guest here at risk.”

He turned slightly toward the crowd.

“I think it’s time someone helped investigate. To protect the buyers… and to protect Goldmaster’s name.”

The words hit like a hammer.

“He’s right… if he’s selling fakes even under Goldmaster’s banner, what else has he done?”

“Those weren’t one-offs… he’s probably been doing this for years!”

The whispers gave way to fury.

“That painting I bought last season—was it even real? I want a refund!”

“This is fraud! He’s definitely a criminal!”

Alex stood stiffly near the back of the platform, sweat pooling at his temples.

His heart pounded, and his mouth went dry. He dared not speak or move to avoid more accusations.

He wanted to believe—needed to believe—that Lucas was just a skilled troublemaker, someone with a sharp tongue and good timing.

Someone who had gotten lucky tonight.

Jackie was powerful, yes. But he wouldn’t side with an outsider. Not against someone like himself—a man whose wealth had been funneled upward for years, whose rare items had always been offered to the hidden elites behind the curtain. They were from the same world. The same circle.

There’s no way Jackie would humiliate one of his own for a stranger. He was sure.

Then Jackie turned. His voice was calm, but loud enough to fill the entire hall.

“Lucas,” he said, “your insight tonight has been… wise, thoughtful, and brave beyond your years.”

Alex’s breath hitched.

“On behalf of Goldmaster,” Jackie continued,

“I thank you. And I promise this crowd tonight that a full investigation will begin at once.”

His gaze swept across the room.

“All forged items will be identified. All buyers will be compensated. And any attempt to damage Goldmaster’s reputation will be answered in full.”

Alex staggered back a step. His face was pale, his fingers trembled. He could feel the walls closing in, feel his power crumbling beneath the weight of a truth he could no longer deny.

He had no more allies, no more leverage, and no more excuses. He was completely done for.

Cheers erupted from every direction. Guests stood and clapped. Some even shouted and chanted.

“Long live Goldmaster! We believe in justice!”

“That’s why Goldmaster is untouchable! Finally someone is cleaning this mess up!”

The chants surged louder, a tidal wave of sound and celebration.

“GOLDMASTER! GOLDMASTER! GOLDMASTER!”