Auction Action Crossword Clue Novels & Stories

"Hughes is fine. He’s already at the bar, probably betting the first installment of your sale price on a horse race. Move." He shoved her. Brittany stumbled out onto the stage, the sudden glare of the spotlights blinding her. The room was a sea of black tuxedos and sparkling diamonds. The scent of expensive cigars and aged scotch hung heavy in the air, cloying and suffocating. She felt like a deer in the crosshairs. "Lot 402," the auctioneer droned, his voice amplified by the speakers. "A rare find. Old money pedigree, pristine record. We’ll start the bidding at five hundred thousand."

"If you ever speak her name again, I will personally see to it that your father’s firm loses every contract they have with the Garrison group. Do you understand me?" "You wouldn't," she breathed. "Try me," Arthur said. He turned back to the stage and raised his paddle. "Fifty thousand," he called out, bidding on a modern sculpture he hadn't even looked at. The auctioneer beamed. "Fifty thousand to Mr. Garrison! Do I hear sixty?" Arthur didn't wait for the final gavel. He turned and walked toward the exit, ignoring the confused looks from Marcus and his mother, who was standing across the room. He felt a sudden, suffocating need for air.

Not too long after he made the bid, even before the auctioneer could say a word, another buyer raised his bidding card. “80, 000 dollars” he announced. “80, 000 dollars, anyone else?” The auctioneer uttered out from the stage. Amelia's eyes met with Lucas. The look of anguish she had earlier noticed, lingered. He kept looking around, restlessly. Something told Amelia that whatever was wrong with him had to do the auction. Not being too sure, she assumed because of how dark the auction was getting. It started as a peaceful auction, with buyers bidding only Jewelries. The auction went from Jewelries to dark painting and then finally a gun.

Xyla Quest was a little surprised by Xavier York’s sudden call today. “Hello, Xyla. You seem to be very interested in antiques… There’s a small-scale antique auction near my place tomorrow. Would you like to come? This kind of auction is different from the high-class ones you went to… There’s a mix of authentic and fake antiques… “However, the feeling of finding gold among sand is exciting. If we can find a treasure, it’ll feel awesome…” Xavier said slowly.

Alexander said laughing. “Shut up!” I scolded him irritably. “Is there anyone else competing for two million?” the Auctioneer asked. I just focused my gaze on that again. “Congratulations, Sir Mercedez, on acquiring this remarkable old painting. Thank you to all our bidders for your participation tonight,” the Auctioneer said when he realized that no one had raised a paddle. Alexander stood up and bowed as the other bidders applauded. “You won’t win against me, Miguel,” he boasted.

On the front are two gilded words: Heritage Auctions. “The Fullers sent your mom’s necklace for auction,” Silco nods at the fancy card, “And what you are holding, is the entrance to one of the most luxurious auction. Next Friday.” Scar grips the card hard, suppressing the fire in her eyes: “I’m there.”

A host, and a woman standing beside him And then someone raises a hand. “Fifty.” Another voice: “Seventy.” My brows pull together slightly. “What is this?” I murmur. Briggs doesn’t look at me. “An auction.” I blink. “For what?” A pause, then— “Access.” My stomach tightens slightly, because ow I understand. It wasn’t acess to objects or art, but people. Time. Presence. Influence. I exhale slowly. “This is insane.” “You could say that, but it’s pretty normal,” he says calmly.

"What do you know? He's trying to win his girlfriend's smile. What's a little money to them?" "Exactly. Do Christian and Quentin look like they're short on cash?" "My God, it's a battle of the titans. Let's hope that we innocent bystanders don't get caught in the crossfire." Hearing Christian's bid, the auctioneer's eyes lit up. He raised his gavel again. As the countdown neared its end, Quentin suddenly raised his bidding paddle high. "20 million dollars." Christian didn't back down. "25 million." Quentin raised his bidding paddle again. "30 million."

educated Vittore. “No, we supply, that’s why there is demand. If we stop, they too will shift their attention to other things, Dad. Don’t you realise that?” chided Michel. While they were chatting with each other, the auction started. Girls clad in bikini and boys clad in tiny underwear were being displayed for all to see. Not only see, but they were also testing, prodding, tasting the girls and boys like they were going to buy a product, not human beings.

"Christine, tonight there's a big event at this party I'm going to. They throw an 'auction' for charity. Donate all the proceeds to the local animal shelter." "What are they auctioning?" "Girls."