FIRST ACT

CHAPTER 003

Hannah’s POV:

The room fell into a deadly silence as Lucinda’s words echoed through the auction.

Calmly, I leaned back into my chair, letting the silence persist and do all the talking. It seemed to work; the longer I waited, the more tension thickened.

Lucinda shifted in her seat, her fingers gripping the edges of her chair tightly as if daring me to continue the bid.

Hit them where it hurts must: their pride.

I cleared my throat delicately, drawing every eye back to me.

“Fifty million dollars,” I repeated Lucinda’s amount slowly, drawing out each syllable as though tasting the absurdity of the number. Then, with a sly, cunning smile, I lifted my paddle again. “And fifty cents.”

The unbelievable gasp mixed with laughter erupted from the crowd yet again.

Lucinda’s glare intensified, her smoky eyes narrowing into thin slits, but so did a cruel smile appear on her lips. She was annoyed, yes, I could feel it. But why the smile?

After what felt like forever, Lucinda smiled, shaking her head as her hair bounced along. “Darling, you’ve outdone yourself this time, truly. Whomever you are, no one could have guessed you’d go this far, most especially with me. But is this a joke to you?” Her voice, low and venomous, carried across the space like a warning shot.

“Oh, not at all, sweetheart.” I laced my fingers together, my expression cool and unbothered. “I just enjoy ensuring that my millions are spent wisely. I’m sure you, of all people, are most familiar with that.”

She sniggered slightly, and I knew I had struck a nerve.

“SIXTY MILLION DOLLARS AND TEN CENTS,” she teased back with a slight sneer.

The auctioneer stumbled over his words, his excitement palpable. “Sixty… million… dollars! This is the pinnacle of the bidding war, ladies and gentlemen. But this diamond could go for a higher price; do we hear a higher bidder?”

Oh, this man really was greedy.

“Going once!”

“Going twice…” the auctioneer stretched on, his expectant eyes on me.

I tilted my head, my eyes never straying away from Lucinda’s, before raising my paddle once more.

“Sixty million and fifty cents.”

Lucinda’s composure cracked as she stood up. “Eighty million dollars, and just a reminder, do you know who sets the pace? I do.” She snarled, her sweet voice trembling with a barely restrained fury.

I chuckled softly, folding my arms. “My, my, I never thought this would occur. You’re quite attached to this little trinket, aren’t you?” I paused. I knew I should stop; I should be done here and leave her to waste her money on such a trophy, but I just couldn’t stop. It was like I was directly destroying her, just like how she destroyed my family.

If this were to go on, then so shall it. “Eighty million... and fucking fifty cents—“

The door barges open, interrupting my words as a voice booms.

“HUNDRED MILLION, AND WE’RE DONE HERE.”

Everyone turned to meet the mysterious new stranger.

A man walked in. He was dressed neatly in a black tuxedo that clung to his body, showing off the right places. He stood at about six feet two or more, and his brown hair was styled perfectly to reveal a set of sky blue eyes. His face, framed by small stubble, gave a sharp impression and a five o'clock shadow.

Damn. He was hot.

The sound of the crowd's collective gasp snapped me away from my awe, and for the first time, the focus shifted entirely off Lucinda and me and towards the man who bizarrely entered the room as if he owned it.

“Going once!” The auctioneer’s excited voice boomed.

“Twice….”

“AND SOLD TO MR THEODORE DEVEREAUX.” The auctioneer screamed, knowing no one would dare bid higher. The crowd clapped. To them, this was a show of wealth, but to me and Lucinda, it is more than that; it’s a show of dominance, and her son has won.

Another Devereaux.

Beat me at another game.

Alexander didn’t tell me her son would be here!

And he certainly didn’t tell me he was this hot.

Lucinda proudly stood up, a smirk now plastered on her face. “You do not have to, son. Seems like I have found someone so similar to me and a fighting spirit alike.” She turned to me, a flicker passing through her eyes. One I could not recognise or decipher. She stretched out her hands to me, “Lucinda Devereaux, matriarch of the Devereaux family.”

I shook myself off the awe that caught me off guard. Standing, I accepted her hands, shaking them firmly with a tight smile, using the name Alexander specifically told me to use. “Olivia Carter, heiress of the Carter Conglomerate.”

“The Carter Conglomerate?” Her voice held surprise. “Impressive. A name that carries…certain significance and a knack for stirring things up.”

I tilted my head, smiling slightly. “Stirring things up is often where the best of fun begins, wouldn’t you agree?”

She laughed lightly, but the steel beneath it was unmistakable. “Indeed. But tread carefully, darling. Fun has a way of turning... treacherous.”

Before I could respond, Theodore Devereaux’s heavy and confident strides pulled my attention towards him, his sky-blue eyes locking onto mine, piercing as though he’s trying to unravel every layer of my very being in an instant. I couldn’t stop staring, no matter how much I tried.

“Mother. Had to come intercept. Heard the bidding game was...amusing. But I think we’ve had enough theatrics for one evening.” His gaze shifted to his mother. “The car is waiting for you.”

Lucinda nodded, but before she left, she handed me a black card. “Having a Carter as a partner and work ally would benefit us both. Here is my card. It would be nice to speak to you again. You have caught my interest."

With a last glance, she turned and left, leaving her son alone with me. The crowd slowly dispersed, each elite individual speaking among themselves in matters I cared not to become involved in myself.

“It is quite hard for anyone to spark a bit of interest in my mother. You did leave an impression tonight.”

I could get lost in his sky-blue eyes. My gaze shifted to his sexy pink lips, a dark thought running through my mind. I bit the inside of my cheek, reminding myself he was the son of the devil. “Impressions are inevitable in auctions like these,” I replied, my voice steady as I hung my bag. “But lasting ones are rare. Perhaps you’ll let me know if I’ve succeeded.”

His charming smile deepened. “Oh, you’ve succeeded, Ms Carter. That much is certain.” His smooth words seemed to weaken my knees, and I felt my heart pump out of my rib cage.

“And Ms Carter”, his gaze lingered on me a moment too long. “I trust this won’t be our last meeting.”

“N—not if you keep crashing auctions,” I quipped, earning a satisfying flicker of amusement in his eyes.

He stepped away after that, going over to the auctioneer, who was already preparing the Devonshire Diamond for its new owner.

What the hell was that feeling?

I left the auction, picking up my phone from my bag and dialling a number. He picked up the call on the first ring.

“Progress?”

I glanced sharply around me, making sure no one was within hearing range. It was dark; only the lighting from the lights above illuminated the glossy pavement of the estate’s courtyard as I stepped into the parking lot.

“She noticed me,” I said quietly, waiting for my assigned driver, whose black-gloved hands had just swung open the door of a sleek black Maybach. The expensive engine purred to life with a soft buzz. “We’ve cracked the surface, Alexander. Soon, Lucinda won’t see the heavy storm coming.”

“Good. Get back here to the estate. We await your input for the next plan of action.”

I nodded as the line went dead.

I stared at the rearview mirror at the back of the car, staring at my different and elegant appearance.

Who would have thought the ordinary girl who once sold burgers to make a living after her father’s death, who dropped out of college due to lack of funds, whose life and family were destroyed under the weight of carefully orchestrated lies, would someday face their destroyer head-on, smiling? Just two week ago, I would never have thought I would sit here. Never.

Fate does have a way of twisting its machinations.

A bitter smile curled on my lips.

Olivia Carter.

The perfect illusion.

The perfect false heiress.