Chapter 7

Adriana only realized Joan and Chris were there when she heard Joan's voice. Chris never came to events like this. Even if there was something he wanted, he would have his assistant bid on his behalf.

Tonight, he was here mostly to accompany Joan.

Chris spoke calmly. "That's something Adriana likes. Pick something else."

"'Heart of the Rose' has a unique design. It would be a huge help to my work in the jewelry industry. I really need it." Joan rested her hand lightly on Chris's knee and pleaded softly, "We can buy Adriana something even better, okay?"

Before Chris could respond, Adriana's clear voice rang out from the back.

"300 thousand!"

Joan lowered her head, disappointment written all over her face.

"To Adriana, 'Heart of the Rose' is just a pretty brooch. To me, it's a work of art. Chris, you said that no matter what I liked, you'd give it to me."

Chris leaned back against his chair, his expression unchanged. "Go ahead then."

Adriana's interest in jewelry had always been fleeting. He could simply buy her a bigger, more expensive gem later. Joan, on the other hand, was well-versed in gemstones and intended to enter the jewelry business.

"320 thousand!" A flash of triumph crossed Joan's eyes, her voice lifting unconsciously.

"350 thousand." Adriana raised her paddle and increased the bid evenly.

Either way, the money came out of Chris's account—marital assets. If Joan dared to use their shared money to bid, Adriana had no reason to hold back.

"400 thousand!"

"450 thousand!"

…

Neither side gave way, and the price climbed with each round.

After several bids, Adriana called out a staggering figure.

"One million."

"Chris, Adriana is clearly determined to fight me for it." Joan set down her paddle, her gaze lingering reluctantly on the radiant "Heart of the Rose."

"I can't bear to waste your money recklessly. That brooch isn't worth one million. Let her have it."

Chris considered for a moment, then motioned to a staff member and spoke to him in a low voice.

Having received instructions, the auctioneer did not bring the gavel down right away.

"Jewels are easy to come by. Love is not," the auctioneer said solemnly. "Does anyone wish to raise the bid?"

Adriana watched the room tensely. As long as no one bid again, her mother's keepsake would finally return to her.

At that moment, a staff member leaned over and whispered, "Mrs. Slater, Mr. Slater says his bidding account is not authorized for your use. If you wish to continue bidding, you'll need to pay a separate deposit."

Adriana froze. Her paddle drooped in front of her, her fingers curling so tightly they hurt. Her heart plunged into icy water, a dense, biting cold gnawing at her ribs.

She instinctively looked toward the familiar figure in the front row. He didn't even turn around.

It felt like a slap across the face, leaving her humiliated and exposed. Even when Joan and Edward had moved into the house, she hadn't felt this crushed—this disappointed.

"Fine. I'll pay the deposit now." Her voice came out with effort, her throat clogged as if stuffed with damp, rotting cloth, nauseating and suffocating.

"But the paperwork takes time," the staff member said hesitantly. "If someone bids one million during that time, then—"

"Go. Now." Adriana braced herself against the chair and stood up as the auctioneer's voice floated over.

"Due to unforeseen circumstances, if anyone is willing to bid one million—and no further bids are placed—the 'Heart of the Rose' will be sold."

"One million!" Joan raised her paddle high, her voice loud and decisive.

Adriana halted mid-step, one hand gripping the back of a chair, her face drained of all color.

She wouldn't get it.

Her entire savings amounted to just two million. Even if there were time, Joan had Chris backing her—she could never outbid them. Helplessness and rage churned in her chest, grievance clogging her throat until she could barely breathe.

She stared at the brooch onstage, so achingly familiar, her vision blurring little by little. She was eight years old again, watching her parents' belongings vanish one by one, powerless to stop it.

"One million, once! Any higher bids?

"One million, twice!

"One million—"

"1.1 million!" A man hurried in. Before he even sat down, he raised his paddle and called out loudly.

"No matter what anyone else bids, I'll add one more increment—until it's mine."

All eyes turned toward him. A low buzz of murmurs swept through the room.

Some people began to doubt themselves. Was this brooch actually a priceless antique? If not, this was far too strange.

The bidding war had already reached one million, and now, a man had announced he was ready to pay any amount for it.

The most stunned of all was Adriana. Why was Charlie bidding on the "Heart of the Rose"?

"Love is elevated at this very moment!" the auctioneer declared passionately. "Ladies and gentlemen, is anyone else willing to breathe life into love?"

His gaze fell on Joan. She was calm, with no intention of bidding again.

Chris remained composed. "Joan, you can continue."

Joan smiled at him. "No need. Your feelings for me are far more precious than the 'Heart of the Rose.'"

She had no real interest in that worthless brooch. Competing with Adriana—that was the real fun.

Chris said nothing. Avoiding her gaze, he turned slightly to look toward the back.

Adriana sat there blankly, her small face pale, tears pooling in her eyes.

Something twisted in his chest—a sharp pain he couldn't quite name.

"I'll head back first. If you see anything you like, just bid on it."

The last time he'd seen Adriana cry was when Grandma Rosie passed away. It was just a brooch. Did it really matter that much?

An assistant came over to push his wheelchair, and Joan stood as well. "I'm not interested in the remaining items either. Let's go together."

Chris didn't respond. As he passed Adriana, he stopped—but didn't dare look at her.

"Take another look. If there's any jewelry you like, I'll buy it for you. Consider it compensation."

Compensation.

Again, compensation.

To Chris, it seemed everything in the world could be paid off with money.

Adriana tipped her head back, forcing the tears away, and took a deep breath. Then she lifted her head and gave him a mocking glance. She said nothing and strode out.

Once, Chris had been her anchor. Now, he was the blade outsiders used to stab her. The pain was unbearable—just like losing her mother's keepsake all over again.

"Chris, go wait in the car. I'll talk to Adriana," Joan said.

At the entrance, she grabbed Adriana's arm. The warmth from earlier was gone, replaced by icy provocation. Her eyes gleamed with smug triumph.

"Adriana, after all these years, you still haven't grown at all. You couldn't beat me back then. You still can't now."

Adriana laughed coldly. "That's right. You've always liked stealing from me—jewelry, clothes, cheap little trinkets."

Anything Adriana liked, anything Chris bought for her, Joan would take.

Back then, because she was Chris's fiancée, Adriana didn't want to make a scene and always gave way. They were just trivial things, after all. And every time Joan took something, Chris would compensate Adriana with something even more expensive.

But this time was different. This wasn't something expendable.

If Joan hadn't deliberately competed with her, she would have secured the "Heart of the Rose" before Charlie arrived.

Adriana looked Joan up and down with open disgust, her red lips curling into a scornful smile.

"You know, Joan," she said coolly, "only stray dogs enjoy fighting over scraps."