Chapter 9 

"Come on, let us sit that way, Johnson." The auction hall was grand, with golden light reflecting off the chandeliers that hung from the high ceilings.

It was the auction morning already, and spring was in the air, which injected life into the hall's atmosphere.

The seats were neatly arranged and filled with some of Lanchester's wealthiest elites. Soft murmurs of conversation filled the air, and the subtle clinking of glasses from the nearby bar added to the atmosphere.

It was a place where power and influence ruled supreme—a battleground where wealth determined status.

As Natasha and I entered, all eyes were drawn to us. There are those who are surprised and others who are curious. However, the jealous Isabella and Haven had the most satisfying response.

Even though their voices were barely audible and their faces were contorted in shock, I could tell exactly what they were saying.

"Look at him, entering with the vice president as though he were supposed to be here."

"One day, she will get tired of a loser like him and dump him."

"What exactly is he doing here? ".He does not fit in places like this."

I simply ignored them. Their words did not mean anything to me. I had long since discovered that the best way to deal with arrogance was to be silent and successful.

We sat close to the front, exactly where the actual players were seated. Natasha sat next to me, her wine glass resting lightly in her hand as she crossed her legs elegantly.

The air was filled with the aroma of finely aged whiskey and pricey cologne. Tapping the microphone to draw everyone's attention, the auctioneer took the stage.

"Welcome to the exclusive auction this evening, ladies and gentlemen. The first item up for auction is a five-bedroom estate in the center of the wealthiest area of Lanchester. This estate features a private pool, state-of-the-art security, and modern architecture. Ninety million dollars is the starting bid."

There was a tremor of excitement in the crowd. The bidding had started. This was the moment when money spoke.

The numbers started to rise chaotically as a few paddles were raised.

"Ninety-five million!" a voice said.

"One hundred million," said a second bidder.

Then came the voice of Haven, who wanted to win and saw this as a mission. "One hundred and sixty million."

Everyone in the room turned to face him. He sat with an air of superiority, a smug grin on his face. This, he thought, was his time.

The time when he demonstrated once more that money was everything. That he could purchase anything he desired, including respect.

I rested my elbow on the armrest of my chair and leaned back. I then lifted my paddle with a simple motion.

"One hundred eighty million dollar."

The audience echoed with gasps. Everyone looked around. I saw Isabella's mouth hanging open in shock, as though she was still processing what had just transpired.

They wondered at the amount I had let loose. Haven gave me a narrowed look. "You are bluffing, right?"

"Oh, am I?" I smiled as I wait for him to counter that.

Isabella turned to face me after whispering something to Haven. "You cannot afford that," she said caustically. Where could you possibly find that amount of money? Are you planning on begging Miss Natasha?"

She did not say it out of concern for me; she said it out of pain. Isabella really wanted the house for her mother.

When she said that, Haven grinned. "That is right," he added in a mocking tone. "You are nothing more than a charity case. Always have been."

I did not move an inch. Instead, I raised my paddle once more.

"One hundred eighty-five million."

There were murmurs in the room. While some of the guests seemed interested, others noticed the tension in the air and looked between Haven and me.

Whichever choice the rest make, whichever choice Haven or Isabella make, it will be the only way what comes next will make sense.

Haven shook his head and gave a dry laugh. "You are embarrassing yourself," he whispered. "Do you think you are capable of playing in the majors?"

I met his stare unaffected. "Try me."

Isabella tightened her jaw. She yelled angrily into Haven's ear, clearly encouraging him to bid higher. I could see it—pride, arrogance, and an unwavering refusal to let me win.

"One hundred and ninety million," Haven said, his voice slightly strained.

A hush descended upon the room.

I looked over at Natasha, who just smirked with knowledge as she swirled her wine in her glass. She had expected this fight, and to be honest, I had too.

So frenzy, so fury. All the other guests could do was watch us bid as if it were a game.

Isabella turned to me once more, her voice dripping with contempt. "You are going to look foolish," she cautioned. "Even if you bid, this house will never be yours."

Haven folded his arms, waiting, that smug expression returning to his face.

I did not rush things. Allow the silence to continue. Allow them to believe they have won.

I looked around the room. In the hall, everyone was observing, anticipating my next move.

A few of them anticipated that I would give in and become weaker under the pressure. Others were interested in seeing how far I was willing to go.

I lightly drummed my fingers on the table. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation. Isabella leaned into Haven as he sat with his chest puffed out, as if they had already declared victory.

"What is the matter, beggar? Are you afraid you will not be able to repay Miss Natasha?" Haven was prone to mockery.

So naive to think I would ever beg Natasha for money. 

But I knew better. I did not just accept Natasha's invitation to auction for no reason.

I wanted to ensure that Haven and Isabella left humiliated.

They had consistently underestimated me. They had always thought I was inferior.

That was their biggest mistake.

I raised my paddle again, this time slowly and deliberately.

"Two hundred million dollars!" Haven must be completely clueless to believe that I would ever give up the house for him and Isabella.