Chapter Thirteen: The Auction Of Masks

The Midtown skyline glittered like a field of cold stars as Amara Voss stepped from the black town car. Wind coiled around the hem of her sable coat, carrying the metallic scent of the East River and the faint throb of late-night traffic.

Kaylee moved beside her, clipboard tucked under one arm, every line of her posture whispering bodyguard in disguise. Amara had become fond of the girl. She was only a few years older than her but she looked like her like she hung up stars, with some kind of admiration that Amara didn't see herself worthy of.

Inside the converted armory the air shimmered with money and expectation. Chandeliers the size of small planets spilled light across marble floors. The night’s prize was the Hudson Apex Development—a twenty-acre stretch of derelict waterfront slated to become the city’s next billion-dollar jewel.

A hundred investors circled like sharks in designer suits. Cameras flashed. Champagne hissed. Amara felt every gaze slide toward her like a test blade.

Kaylee leaned close, voice low. “Carlo fed us the morning’s conversation. They bought every word of the Geneva fairy tale. Sienna thinks you’re new money and soft. Ethan though.... He had some doubts.”

Amara’s lips curved, though her heart thudded once, hard. “Good. The deeper they swallow the lie, the sharper the hook. Ethan wouldn't be that easy to fool but we must make him buy it. I'll make sure to sell the story so good there'll be no doubt at all.”

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The Encounter

The crowd parted with the subtle choreography of privilege. Sienna Cade approached first—gold silk, eyes like polished amber, a predator wrapped in warmth.

“Miss Voss,” she said, extending a manicured hand. “You're here?”

"Yes Mrs Cade?" She ignored Ethan who was right next to her "it's the biggest project in town everyone's here to try to snag it. I assume you are too." She said with a smile.

" Ah so you do remember." Sienna's feigned awe " Yes we're also here to bid on the project."

" Why wouldn't i? You were the hostess of the party. And the only person who was so kind." The lie flowed seamlessly and at that a glint appeared in Sienna's eyes probably thinking she has caught her attention enough to sink her claws into Amara. Amara smiled at the thought.

 "Well you already know me." A deliberate pause. “This is my husband, Ethan Cade.”

Amara’s world constricted to a single heartbeat.

He was taller than memory, broader in the shoulders, but the chill of his presence was unchanged. Same obsidian eyes. Same controlled grace. The man who had once whispered devotion against her skin…and later dragged her to the cliff’s edge and let gravity finish his betrayal.

The urge to recoil hit like a tidal surge. Hatred, grief, a flash of remembered cold water and the sound of Milo’s name ripped from her throat. She locked it down behind the mask Damien had paid for.

Smile. Breathe. Play the part.

“Mr. Cade,” she said, extending her hand. “An honor.”

Ethan clasped it. Warm. Firm. Too firm. His thumb pressed a fraction longer than etiquette allowed, a slow sweep that made her pulse leap with fury rather than desire. Did he know? Or was this simply the habit of a man who believed the world—and every woman—existed to be possessed?

“Welcome to California,” he said, voice a velvet knife. “I hear Geneva breeds impressive entrepreneurs.”

“Only those who survive the altitude,” she answered lightly.

Sienna’s gaze flicked between them, measuring something. “You must let me show you the city, Amara. It’s criminal to stay hidden behind boardrooms.”

“That would be wonderful,” Amara said, forcing warmth into her tone. “I’d appreciate a guide.”

Phones slid from clutches; numbers exchanged.

The trap’s jaws clicked tighter.

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The Auction Begins

The hall lights dimmed. A crystal bell rang once, twice. Guests drifted toward velvet-roped seats facing the dais where a massive digital screen displayed the words: HUDSON APEX – RECLAMATION RIGHTS.

Amara settled into a front-row chair. To her right, Kaylee sat with a soldier’s quiet vigilance.

To her left—of course—Sienna and Ethan.

The auctioneer, a silver-haired titan with a voice like polished mahogany, explained the stakes: exclusive development rights to the riverfront, starting bid two hundred million.

The winner would control zoning, partnerships, tax-credit negotiations. In a city built on steel and secrets, this was a license to print power.

Numbers flashed across the screen. Bidders raised paddles. The price climbed in measured millions.

Ethan Cade entered at three hundred without hesitation.

Amara lifted her paddle at three-fifty, her face a calm sea while her heart kicked like a war drum.

Across the aisle, Ethan’s eyes found hers—sharp, curious and faintly amused. He raised to four hundred.

She countered. Four-twenty.

He followed. Four-fifty.

A ripple of interest passed through the room. Reporters angled cameras; whispers darted like minnows.

Two unknown forces—new money and old—circling the same prize.

Kaylee murmured, “He’s testing you.”

“I know,” Amara said, her voice ice-smooth. “Let him.”

The auctioneer called for four-seventy. Amara lifted her paddle before the sentence finished.

Ethan’s lips curved, the faintest ghost of a smile. Five hundred.

The crowd shifted. Champagne flutes stilled.

Amara felt the weight of every eye, the burn of Ethan’s gaze, and the ghost of a night when his hands had been the last thing she felt before the dark.

She raised to five-ten, never breaking eye contact.

The auctioneer’s gavel hovered.

“Five hundred and twenty million,” Ethan said, his voice carrying like a shot.

The room held its breath.

Amara’s fingers tightened around the paddle. Hatred burned clean and bright, but she let it sharpen her resolve rather than scorch it.

“Five hundred and thirty,” she said.

A low murmur swept the hall. The auctioneer blinked, recovering his rhythm.

“Five-thirty, ladies and gentlemen. Do I hear—”

Ethan Cade lifted his paddle, eyes locked on hers. “Five hundred and forty.”

The gavel paused mid-air.

Amara smiled—a small, deadly curve.

Her paddle rose.

The crowd leaned forward.

Damien Rhys did say to do anything to get the project.

A bidding war against Ethan Cade was just a bonus.

Oh he did love a good challenge, losing to Amara would o

nly make him hungrier to possess her and crush her.

The auctioneer’s next words hung like a noose above the room.