The auction

They arrived at a sleek, high-rise building with a grand chandelier visible through the glass facade. The courtyard was bustling with well-dressed guests and luxury cars. As Harper stepped out of the van, the warm evening breeze caught the hem of her dress. She held her head high, elegance in every step. Sage flanked her protectively, while Freya trailed behind, eyes scanning the environment sharply.

At the main entrance, two suited guards crossed their arms, halting them. One of them looked at Harper with professional detachment.

"Invitation, please."

Sage wordlessly handed over a silver-embossed card. The guard inspected it, nodded once, and stepped aside.

She was allowed in, and as the large glass doors closed behind them, Gianna's car screeched slightly to a halt right outside.

She emerged swiftly, her stiletto heels clicking furiously against the marble steps as she marched toward the entrance. Her guard trailed dutifully behind.

"Your invitation, ma'am," one guard said, stepping in front of her.

Gianna stopped cold, raising an eyebrow with disgust.

"Do I need an invitation to come to an auction?"

"Definitely," he replied flatly.

She scoffed, placing a manicured hand on her hip. "Do you know who I am?"

"It doesn't matter, ma'am. You need an invitation to get in."

Her eyes narrowed with fire. "Who is hosting this event?"

"The Grays, ma'am."

"The Grays? I know them!" she snapped, rummaging through her designer bag before pulling out her phone. She dialed with precision. "Hello? This is Simon?"

A beat.

"Yes, it's Gianna! I heard your family is holding an auction today. I came there to check out what you have. Turned out your guards won't let me in without an invitation."

A pause.

"Okay!" she said and shoved the phone into the guard's hand.

The man looked startled. "Sir? Okay, sir. Right away!"

He handed the phone back nervously and stepped aside. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I didn't know that you are Mrs. Dylan. You can go in right away."

Gianna gave a self-satisfied smirk. "Thank you, Simon!" She hung up and leaned in, voice low and cold. "Look at my face very well. Next time, you don't hold me back."

"I'm sorry, ma'am."

"No problem!" she snapped and strutted past the entrance, her heels echoing through the corridor.

Inside, the auction hall was radiant. Warm golden lights shimmered over glass panels and velvet chairs. At the front, Harper sat gracefully, her legs crossed, hands folded in her lap. An empty seat was beside her.

Gianna spotted her immediately and made a beeline for the spot, settling down without a word. Harper turned slightly, offered her a polite smile.

Gianna shot her a glare in response.

The host approached the podium. A mic crackled.

"Ladies and gentlemen! This is an auction organized by the Grays. Some of the items here are donated by the elites, and 30% of the funds made will be donated to charity. Thanks for participating!"

Polite applause followed.

"The first item is a 100-year-old ring. It was found on an Egyptian mummy. It is real gold and was owned by the anonymous donor for several years. The bidding starts from $500k!"

The room hummed with tension as the bidding escalated, until it was sold.

"The second item is this painting from a very famous artist in Asia. It is a decade old and was owned by the anonymous donor for several years. The bidding starts from $500k! Good luck!"

Harper raised a hand smoothly, voice calm. "$1m."

Gianna's eyes flared. "That bitch! So this is what she came for? I won't let her get it!"

"$1.5m!" she snapped.

Harper smiled and raised her number again. "$2m."

Gianna's hand flew up. "$5m!"

Harper turned slightly, shaking her head in amusement.

"$7m!" Harper countered, still composed.

"$8m," Gianna barked.

"$9m!" Harper said and then leaned back, watching.

"$12m,"

"Okay! $12m going once! Going twice! Going thrice! Sold! Congratulations to Mrs. Dylan for being the highest bidder!"

Freya leaned toward Harper, whispering, "Blue, why did you allow her to take the painting away? She is trying hard to win you over."

Harper's voice was low and cold. "She is just stupid! Who the hell spends $12m on a painting that costs less than $100k? That's clearly a failure on her end."

The auction wrapped up, and guests began filtering out. Harper moved toward the exit, graceful as ever, when a hand gripped her wrist from behind.

"What are you doing?" she asked, whirling around.

Gianna's face was twisted in fury. "You, Blue! You deceived me. You knew that you were not going to purchase that painting but kept bidding for it!"

Harper blinked slowly. "What do you mean by that? I see that you like the painting, so I gave up on it."

"By bidding up to $9m? You made me lose $12m!"

"Oh my, did you spend that much?" Harper suddenly burst into laughter, holding her stomach. "Are you stupid, Gianna? Who the hell spends $12m on a fake painting?"

Gianna froze. "A fake painting? So you knew it was fake and allowed me to keep bidding—then you gave up halfway?"

"I'm a courtesan, Gianna! I take lessons on things like this. I can recognize an original painting at a glance. I didn't ask you to be a stupid person who can't differentiate things."

"Blue!"

"It's fine, it's fine, I understand! You wanted to compete with me. But what you don't know is that I'm not here to purchase any paintings. I came to make money for Quincy. I have to keep the bids going up so gullible people like you can fall victim and buy more stuff! Half of the money made here will be going into Quincy's wallet—that's why I'm here, to help make more money. But you? What did you do? You came to spend $12m on a painting."

"You deceived me, Blue, and tried to make me look stupid! You said Quincy was here, and then I came to find you here alone. And you also made me spend $12m on a fake painting!"

Harper smiled sweetly. "A 20-year-old girl deceiving a 29-year-old? Stop being absurd, Mrs. Dylan. Go home and enjoy your painting!"

She turned, heels clicking lightly as she exited the hall.

"Blue!!! I'm gonna kill you myself!" Gianna screamed, fists clenched. "Follow her to the courtesan house!"

Her guard hesitated. "But ma'am, they won't allow you in."

"Let's see whether they won't allow me in today!" she snapped, pulling out her phone. She dialed furiously.

"Father! Please tell Quincy's dad that I'm facing difficulties and you will not have it! Yes, Father! Thank you!"

Harper sat down in front of the ornate dresser, the soft golden lighting casting a warm glow on her face. She dipped her fingers into a cream jar and gently patted it onto her cheeks, her expression calm, almost robotic. The silk of her courtesan robe slipped down slightly as she lifted one leg out, dabbing moisturizer onto her thigh with mechanical precision. Her reflection stared back at her—a girl molded into poise but forged from pain.

Suddenly—

"Blue!" Freya's urgent voice cut through the quiet like a blade. She burst into the room, her cheeks flushed with haste.

Harper blinked and turned sharply. "What?"

"The courtesan house has a visitor!"

Harper raised an eyebrow, her tone cool. "Since when did you start reporting that?"

"A big visitor! And you are invited down to Madam Francisca's suites!" Freya's hands flailed, clearly rattled.

"What? Why?" Harper asked, her heart skipping. Something felt off.

"I don't know too, we were just told to come right away!"

Harper sighed, then swung her leg back down, letting her robe cover it. She slipped on the plain Crocs lying beside her bed.

"Are you not gonna change?" Freya asked, eyeing her robe.

"Why should I? If there's an urgent situation, I need an excuse to come back to my room—so no!"

"Good idea!" Freya nodded quickly.

Harper tied her robe tighter and marched out of the penthouse. Her heart thumped in steady warning beats. She stepped into the elevator, her face unreadable. When the doors opened into the noble's hall, the air smelled of fresh incense and power.

She stopped at the grand entrance, tension tightening her shoulders. Sage, ever composed, clicked a button. The golden doors opened.

"Welcome, Blue!" Jesse smiled politely.

Harper managed a faint smile in return, trying to read the mood.

"Call Quincy to come here, Freya, in case there's trouble."

"Yes, Blue!"

Harper moved through the regal office, her steps firm but cautious. She entered the living room and spotted Madam Francisca seated elegantly with a serene smile. The sight eased her nerves—slightly.

"She is here, Fred!" Francisca called out warmly.