Chapter 5

Conor's entire body burned with searing pain. Lying in a daze in the family chapel, somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, he suddenly caught the smell of something burning.

He opened his bleary eyes and saw a figure standing by the window.

"Conor, how dare you push me? Getting beaten was the least you deserved. Today, I'm going to make you regret ever laying a hand on me!"

The venomous voice had barely faded when Conor heard a sharp click. The next second, a lighter hit the floor.

Flames roared to life, consuming the curtains and spreading rapidly to every corner of the room.

"Damon, have you lost your mind?" Conor finally snapped fully awake. He jumped up

and tried to run, only to find the door firmly locked.

Thick black smoke choked him until tears streamed down his face. He struggled desperately to get out, not intending to go down with Damon's madness. Just then, hurried footsteps sounded outside.

"Conor!"

"Kendra..." Conor's voice was barely audible as he called for help.

The moment Kendra rushed into the burning room, she kicked the chapel door open and reached out with both hands to catch him.

Conor summoned his last ounce of strength and stretched out his hand...

Just as their fingers were about to touch, Damon's voice rang out. "Kendra! Kendra, where are you? I think I'm trapped... Cough! Cough! Cough!"

Kendra stopped.

Without almost any hesitation, she turned and ran toward Damon behind her, wrapping her arms around him and rushing straight out of the fire.

"Damon, don't be scared. I'm right here!

"Conor, wait a little longer. The rescue team is already here. Just wait..."

He stared in disbelief at her retreating figure and tried to follow, but the door slammed shut in front of him.

He thought he would be devastated, yet strangely, he remained calm. The only ripple of feeling left in him was a dead, icy stillness.

Staggering alone, he managed to push the door open. Supporting himself with his badly burned, blackened, blood-red hand, he made his way to the hospital to have his wounds treated. When the nurse changed his dressings, the pain was so intense that cold sweat poured down his face, yet he didn't shed a single tear.

Lying in his hospital bed, he could hear the nurses discussing him as they changed his bandages.

"The man in the next bed, Damon, is so lucky. All he did was inhale some smoke, and his girlfriend rushed him straight to the hospital. She even insisted he stay for observation."

"She's so attentive, too—feeding him, bringing him water, and staying by his bedside. You can tell that woman is head over heels in love."

A sharp, stabbing pain pierced Conor's heart. He curled his fingertips tightly into his palm.

After a long moment, he released his grip. The gloom on his face lifted completely.

It was fine. He had already decided to let go. He wasn't going to shed another tear for her.

He just needed a little more time. Soon, he would stop caring about her completely.

After a week in the hospital, he heard that a private club was holding an auction soon. One of the items was something he had been searching for a very long time.

After confirming the date, Conor arrived at the club that evening.

When he turned around, he had the misfortune of seeing Kendra and Damon arriving together.

Damon leaned against Kendra's side. When he saw Conor, a smug, challenging glint flashed in his eyes.

Conor instinctively clenched his fist, but quickly relaxed his hand again.

Kendra's gaze lingered briefly on his pale face. Seeing his complete, calm indifference and the way he turned and walked away without a second thought, a sudden flicker of panic stirred inside her. She wanted to speak to him, but before she could open her mouth, the auction officially began.

One item after another passed before them. None was what Conor wanted, so he idly played with his fingertips.

Bids began coming in one after another. Damon grew increasingly excited, repeatedly turning to Kendra. "Kendra, this one is gorgeous. I love it..."

Kendra didn't hesitate. Whenever Damon liked something, she raised her bidding paddle.

Conor felt a faint sting in his heart and took a deep breath.

Then the next item was brought out, and his attention immediately snapped into focus.

It was a crystal bracelet, elegant and classically styled. It was the last keepsake his mother had left him before she died.

After her death, it had disappeared. He had searched for it for so long, and now, at last, he had found it.

Conor's eyes turned bloodshot. He trembled with nerves, forcing himself to remain calm as he joined the bidding.

He had to get his mother's last keepsake back. It was the only thing she had ever left him.

After several fierce rounds of bidding, Conor staked almost his entire fortune and named a price no one else dared to match.

The auctioneer raised the gavel. "Going once!" A hush fell over the room. "Going twice!" Conor's heart was in his throat as he stared at the gavel about to fall.

Before he could breathe a sigh of relief, Damon suddenly stood up.

"Wait!" Damon's voice was gentle, but the malice in his eyes was unmistakable. "I'm sorry, but I've changed my mind. I'm not selling this bracelet anymore."

The auctioneer looked troubled. But Damon was the consignor of the bracelet and an important guest behind this private auction, so the organizers didn't dare force the sale through.