The Graham Heir—I Am Not An Adopted Nobody

Chapter 61: The third round

Chapter 61: The third round

Edward’s paddle started to move, lifting inch by inch like it weighed a ton. It wasn't that he was scared of the money, but he was starting to feel the heavy weight of what would happen if he actually won. He was right on the edge of speaking when a voice from across the room sliced right through the silence.

“Three point one billion dollars.”

Every head in the place snapped toward the left side of the hall. It was an older billionaire in a suit so dark it looked like the midnight sky, with his silver hair slicked back and eyes that looked hungry for a win. He didn't even blink after dropping a number that would end most companies. The spell over the room finally broke, and everyone let out the breath they’d been holding.

Robert didn't look bothered at all, in fact, a tiny smirk appeared on his lips. Without missing a beat, his paddle went back up.

“Three point five billion.”

That number hit the room like a bomb. You could hear actual gasps from the crowd. A woman a few rows back was so shocked she dropped her champagne glass, and the sound of the crystal shattering against the marble floor felt like a gunshot in the quiet room. Three point five billion dollars. Edward’s fingers were shaking now, his grip on his paddle tightened until his knuckles were white. 

He knew this wasn't about a diamond anymore— this was about who was really in charge of the room. He tried to tell himself that even if this was the last thing he bought, it was worth it just to keep Robert from outshining. After all, he had invited Robert here to be humiliated

Edward stood up just a little, his voice sounding steady even though his heart was hammering against his ribs. “Four billion dollars.”

A wave of shock hit the room so hard that people actually leaned back in their seats. Four billion. It was a number so big it didn't even feel real. But Robert didn't rush, and he didn't blink. He didn't even give Edward the satisfaction of a glance. His paddle lifted one last time.

“Four point two billion.”

The silence that followed was heavier than the building itself. Nobody dared to breathe, let alone bid. The host swallowed hard, his voice sounding thin as he called it out. “Four point two billion going once… going twice… Sold! To Mr. Robert.”

When the gavel struck, Edward felt his chest loosen up. On the outside, he played the part of the loser— he shook his head a little and let out a controlled sigh— but inside, he was flooded with relief. He hadn't been forced to actually pay that four billion. Chloe leaned in close, her voice cracked as she whispered. “Were you actually going to pay that much?”

Edward didn't look at her, his jaw was clenched tight. “Yes. I told you I’d humiliate him. I’m not letting him take anything I can’t take.” But across the aisle, Robert was leaning back in his chair, looking completely untouched by the chaos he’d just caused.

The Next Masterpiece was about to be displayed.

The lights on the stage shifted again, turning warmer and more respectful. The host’s voice dropped to a whisper, sounding like he was standing in a cathedral. “Ladies and gentlemen… what you are about to see is more than just rare.”

The stage floor opened up again, and a circular platform rose slowly, covered in silk that looked like glittering gold. When the cloth was pulled away, the room was dead silent. 

In the center sat a sculpture that looked like a throne, carved from a single block of glowing green jade and threaded with veins of pure white gold. It looked like it belonged to a king from a thousand years ago.

“The Elysian Sovereign Relic,” the host announced. “The last surviving coronation piece of a lost royal bloodline.”

The carvings on the arms told stories of ancient wars, and the base was covered in ancient stars that nobody recognizes anymore. It wasn't just art, it was a piece of history that shouldn't even exist. “Starting bid… three billion dollars.” the host announced looking down at his script.

Even the richest people in the room started shifting uncomfortably in their seats. Edward’s gut was screaming at him to stay still. He knew that if he bid and no one followed, he’d be trapped with a bill he couldn't pay without embarrassing himself. But Robert’s paddle went up anyway.

“Three point five billion.”

The guests in the room turned to each other and whispers filled the building. Suddenly, another billionaire jumped in. “Three point seven billion!” Then a third voice joined the fight. “Four billion!”

The tension was rising now. “Four point one billion!” The numbers were climbing like a wildfire out of control. The host scanned the room, his eyes wide. “Four point one billion going once… twice… Sold!”

The gavel hit, and the applause was like thunder. The Relic was gone, and Edward hadn't moved a muscle. For the first time all night, he was actually glad he lost. He was starting to realize how dangerous this game was.

It was time for The Third Legendary Object 

The atmosphere shifted again, turning darker and more serious, with a single stage light on. The next platform brought up something encased in thick, clear crystal. Inside was a towering set of black and gold armor, plated in obsidian steel and crowned with a helmet shaped like a rising sun. It looked like it could get up and walk at any second.

“This,” the host said carefully, “is the Obsidian Dominion Armor. Used by Henry the Great III to lead the army that conquered Atlantis. It’s been untouched and preserved for centuries.”

“Its starting bid is one point five billion dollars.”

Robert didn't hesitate, he raised his paddle. “Two billion.”

A rival shot back, “Two point one.”

Robert’s paddle went up again, but he didn't just raise the bid. He destroyed it. “Four point five billion.”

The guests gasped, and even the host narrowed his eyes for a second. Four point five billion— just like that. No small jumps, just a total shutdown of the competition. Nobody even thought about challenging him after that. “Four point five billion going once… twice… Sold.”

Robert didn't celebrate or even smile. He just folded his paddle and sat there. Avery leaned in, her voice full of worry. “Robert… what are you doing?” Even Anna was watching him now, looking genuinely concerned. But Robert just looked at them and said, “Trust me.”

The clapping for the Obsidian Armor was still dying down when the host held up his hand. 

"Everyone, listen up," he said, his voice dropping low. "There is one last piece for this round."

The room went dead silent. Even Robert, who usually looked like he was bored to death, actually looked up.

The stage lights faded until it was almost pitch black. It didn't feel like a show anymore— it felt like a funeral. It felt like something heavy was about to drop.

A big, square vault rose up from a slot in the floor. But this one wasn't made of clear glass like the others. It was solid black with no shine or reflection. It was just a dark, sealed box.

"What you are looking at has never been shown in public. Not once," the host whispered.

Two guards in white gloves stepped up. They moved at the exact same time, sliding two different keys into the box.

Click.

The lid groaned open.

Resting on a bed of dark silk was a crown. But it didn't look like jewelry—it looked like a weapon. It was made of a deep, blood red metal with silver veins running through it like lightning. Right in the middle sat a dark blue stone the size of a man’s fist. It didn't sparkle. It actually seemed to soak up the light in the room.

"The Sovereign Apex Diadem," the host said, picking his words very carefully. "The last Emperor of the Solarian Dynasty wore this. They say whoever held this crown didn't just rule a country— they controlled the money and the trade for three whole continents."

A low murmur washed over the billionaires. This wasn't about gold anymore.

"This isn't just something you wear," the host added. "This is power, frozen in time."

He took a slow breath. "Starting bid... three and a half billion dollars."

For a second, nobody even moved. Then, a paddle went up on the far right.

"Three point eight," a voice called out.

"Four billion," another snapped back.

Edward’s jaw went tight. You could feel the tension in the room getting heavy, like a storm was about to break.

Then Robert raised his paddle. He did it slowly, like he was ordering a drink.

"Four point three billion," he said. His voice was flat.

A guy near the front leaned forward, his face turning red. "Four point six!"

The host’s eyes were darting back and forth like he was watching a fight.

Robert didn't even wait.

"Five billion."

He didn't go up by a few million at a time. He just dropped a bomb on the table and waited for the smoke to clear.

The billionaire who had just bid 4.6 billion slowly leaned back in his chair. He looked defeated. He knew exactly what that jump meant.

Five billion wasn't a bid. It was a shut up and go home message. It was the end of the conversation.

The host swallowed hard. "Five billion... going once."

"Five billion... going twice."

Silence.

Bang. The gavel hit the wood.

"Sold! To Mr. Robert."

This time, the room didn't go wild. The other billionaires clapped slowly, with a weird kind of respect. They weren't happy, they were just admitting they were in the room with a predator.

Edward sat there frozen. He finally understood the trap. His liquidity wasn’t limitless, and a forced purchase at that level would freeze assets, trigger meetings, and expose weaknesses his rivals would devour. 

He’d be forced to pay a bill that would sink his family. For the rest of the round, Edward didn't lift his paddle once. Not because he didn't want the items, but because he was terrified of being the last one holding the bag.

The round ended, and the silver briefcases reappeared. The room went quiet as the staff started moving toward the tables. Edward’s stomach dropped through the floor. He knew the totals this time were going to be terrifying. And across the aisle, Robert looked like he was just getting started.