Chapter 2

"Tonight, witness the culmination of raw, unadulterated opulence—the single existing edition of The Golden Heart of Paradise!"

​Thunderous applause tore through the ballroom the instant the host spoke. Guests surged forward, mahogany chairs scraping against marble as desperate, manic voices swallowed the room.

​"Bring it out! Every last cent of my empire goes into that piece!"

​"Start the numbers now! I want my name on that final gavel drop!"

​Beside Carson, Samantha let out a sharp, mocking bark that cut through the uproar. "Idiots," she sneered, her red-painted mouth curving with vicious amusement. "As if any of you paupers could afford it."

​My jaw clenched until my teeth throbbed. The nasal pitch of her voice clawed at my nerves, turning my stomach into a knot of pure nausea. She clung to Carson like a parasite, fingers digging into his velvet lapel, her entire posture dripping with unearned arrogance. A ghost of her past betrayals flashed behind my eyes, but I forced a long, quiet breath through my nose, shattering the memory into worthless dust.

​"Watch your tongue, Samantha Hayes!" a man near the velvet ropes snapped. "We aren't paupers!"

​"Oh, sweetie, I know," she cooed, her stiletto heels clicking sharply against the polished floor as she spun to face the gallery, eyes gleefully scanning the furious faces. "Consider it a public service

announcement: stop reaching for stars you can't buy. You aren't nearly as rich as my fiancé."

​An icy hush fell over the room. Samantha soaked in the dead silence before bursting into a high-pitched, triumphant laugh.

​"Carson's name rules every financial column in this country, ladies and gentlemen. And my sweet fiancé promised that exact piece of art will rest around my neck tonight."

​A woman in diamond drops snorted back a laugh. "Carson Hemswood? Please! The CEO of La Lora could buy and sell him ten times over!"

​"That phantom?" Samantha scoffed, tossing her curls back. "The mysterious recluse who doesn't even exist? She's an urban legend!" Her glare locked onto the far corner of the stage. "Represented by a pathetic little mouse!"

​Carson stepped up from behind her, his large hand gliding firmly down her waist, pulling her flush against his side for every camera to capture. My pulse spiked with cold disgust, he had spent our entire marriage hiding me in shadows, never once offering a drop of public affection.

​"Let us leave the ghost stories to children," Carson announced, his voice booming through the hall with absolute, blind authority. "I haven't seen a shred of proof that La Lora's CEO is real. And I intend to keep my promise to my bride-to-be, right here, right now."

​"My collarbones are waiting, darling," Samantha purred.

​Without a word, Carson leaned down and pressed his lips firmly against hers. A collective gasp, heavy with envy and disgust, rippled through the gathered elite.

​My eyes rolled back. The sight of the two snakes who stripped my family name and bled my inheritance dry made my blood boil to a sharp, icy edge.

​"Sensational tension in the air tonight!" the host barked, stepping into the spotlight to break the freeze. "Let the bidding commence!"

​"Finally! Drop the velvet ribbon!"

​"Our grand finale!" the host declared, sweeping a gloved arm toward a pedestaled display draped in heavy black silk. "Forged in Paris, alloyed with gold sourced from every continent on earth. Radiant, breathtaking, and utterly priceless—behold, The Golden Heart of Paradise!"

​The silk dropped. A blinding, sun-like radiance spilled across the ballroom as gold and diamonds caught the crystal chandeliers, turning the crowd into stunned statues.

​My knuckles turned white against the mahogany balcony railing as the room erupted into hysteria.

​"The opening bid starts at five hundred thousand dollars!"

​"Wait!" Scarlet's breathless voice cracked through the noise. She stood near the stage, her glasses sliding down her nose as she gestured frantically. "My employer hasn't arrived! We must pause—the CEO of La Lora is on her way!"

​"Get off the stage, little girl!" Samantha hissed.

​"The auction moves forward, present or not," Carson added coldly, throwing a disdainful glance toward Scarlet.

​"She is coming!" Scarlet insisted, her hands trembling as she pointed at the blazing necklace. "This piece means everything to her!"

​Carson chuckled, a deep, arrogant rumble as he adjusted his cufflinks and scanned the balcony above. "Your imaginary boss isn't coming, Miss. Or perhaps she realized her bank account couldn't bear the embarrassment."

​Surrounding socialites burst into light, cruel laughter.

​I stared down at him, my gaze narrowing. He had forgotten the pathetic, wide-eyed boy who had walked into my father's manor years ago wearing torn denim and a faded black shirt. Wealth he didn't earn had rotted his mind.

​"Miss Host," Carson sneered, flicking his wrist dismissively. "Proceed."

​"Five hundred thousand!"

​"Seven hundred thousand!"

​"One million!" Carson bellowed.

​"One million to Mr. Hemswood!"

​"Two million!" Carson cut off another bidder immediately, his chest puffed out like a peacock.

​Up on the mezzanine, my phone vibrated in my palm. Scarlet had retreated into the shadowed corridor beneath me, her face pale as I pressed the receiver to my ear.

​"Miss Lora! Where are you?" her frantic whisper leaked through the speaker. "He's going to steal it right out from under us!"

​"Let him enjoy his high horse a little longer, Scarlet," I murmured, watching the floor beneath me.

​"He's using your father's stolen accounts!" she gasped, her voice shaking with rage. "He promised to fasten it on her neck in front of the whole world!"

​"He won't touch it," I said flatly, ending the call before she could reply.

​"Seven hundred and fifty million!" the host screamed into the microphone, her voice hoarse. "Seven hundred and fifty million dollars to Mr. Hemswood! Going once..."

​Samantha preened, crossing her arms and casting a gloating smirk over the defeated crowd. High-society wives chewed their lips in quiet fury, muttering under their breath at their husbands' helpless shrugs.

​"Going twice... sold to—"

​"One billion. Cash."

​My voice sliced cleanly through the suffocating air, dropping like an iron blade from the upper gallery. The entire hall went dead quiet, every jaw unhinging as hundreds of heads snapped upward in unison.

​"Is she insane?!" someone gasped from the front row.

​"Who is that?!"

​The crisp, rhythm of my stilettos echoed off the marble steps as I descended into the light, my chin raised, eyes fixed entirely on the stage.

​Carson froze, the color draining from his face in a fraction of a second. "Lora... Vance?"

​Samantha recoiled as if stung, her mouth working silently as her grip on Carson's arm slackened. "L—Lora?!"

​"It's a pleasure to see you again, Carson," I said, my voice smooth as silk, carrying to the furthest corners of the room.

​"Wait—isn't that his ex-wife?" whispering broke out instantly, spreading like wildfire through the crowd.

​I stepped off the final stair, my heels clicking to a halt directly in front of the display pedestal. I offered the room a slow, dangerous smile.

​"Yes, ladies and gentlemen. I am Lora Vance. And I am closing this auction in one hundred billion dollars."

​Chaos erupted. People jumped from their seats, shouting, gasping, frantically fanning themselves as the room dissolved into absolute noise.

​They had all assumed I died in the dark after my husband stripped my name and threw me away. They thought the Vance legacy had popped like a bubble in the wind. But as I locked eyes with the pale, trembling man who used to own my heart, I let them see the truth.

​I wasn't here to reclaim my past. I was here to burn his future to the ground.