Damian didn't go home.
He wasn't careless.
The moment his guards confirmed movement, unfamiliar faces, unusual positioning—he changed direction immediately.
His car sped past his residence and headed straight to his headquarters.
A fortress.
Armed security. Surveillance on every corner. Controlled access.
By the time he stepped out, the tension had already settled into strategy.
Victor Kane's men had followed.
But they didn't stay.
They couldn't.
Not there.
And just like that—
They backed down.
For now.
Back at the party,
Jane couldn't explain it.
But something felt… off.
She had lost track of Damian.
And that alone was unusual.
Without wasting time, she made her way to the rooftop.
"Janaya."
Janaya turned almost immediately, like someone pulled out of a dream.
"Yes?"
Jane paused.
Her brows furrowed slightly.
Janaya stood there… fingers resting lightly on her lips, a soft, almost unconscious smile playing on her face.
Not confusion.
Not shock.
Something else.
Something Jane recognized instantly.
"Where is he?" she asked.
"Damian?" Janaya replied, too casually. "He left. Emergency. His guards signaled and he just… left."
Jane's disappointment flickered briefly.
"Oh."
A pause.
Then she recovered.
"Let's go back," she said. "The party's not over."
Janaya nodded quickly. "It's time for the art exhibition, right? I don't want to miss that."
And just like that,
They headed back down.
The main hall had transformed.
The lights dimmed slightly, focusing attention on the center stage where a series of rare artworks were displayed under controlled lighting.
The atmosphere shifted.
Less casual.
More competitive.
This wasn't just a party anymore.
It was power—measured in money.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the host announced smoothly, "we begin with one of the most exclusive pieces of the night—The Painting of Life."
A large canvas was revealed.
Abstract.
Yet deeply emotional.
The kind of art that meant different things to different people.
But one thing was certain,
It was rare.
And it was expensive.
"Bidding starts at two hundred thousand dollars."
"Three hundred."
A voice cut in immediately.
"Five hundred thousand."
Another followed.
"Seven hundred thousand."
The room grew louder.
Tension rising with every bid.
At one corner stood Adrian Wolfe, observing calmly, uninterested but aware.
Nearby, a well-known investor, Sebastian Virelli, adjusted his cufflinks before raising his paddle.
"Eight hundred thousand."
"Nine hundred," another billionaire countered instantly—Harold Kingston, known for his aggressive acquisitions.
"1.2 million."
Gasps.
The numbers climbed effortlessly, egos clashing behind polished smiles.
This wasn't about art anymore.
It was about dominance.
Across the room
Jason stood beside Elena.
This time, closer.
More comfortable.
Not fully open—but no longer distant.
Elena leaned slightly toward him. "Do you like art?"
Jason shrugged. "Depends on the story behind it."
"Everything has a story," she said softly.
Jason glanced at her.
And for once—
He didn't look away.
Not far from them—
Maya stood beside Tan.
Still trying to process everything.
"This is insane," she whispered.
Tan chuckled lightly. "You'll get used to it."
Her eyes shifted to the stage.
Then to him.
Then back again.
"Do you like that?" Tan asked, nodding toward the next display being unveiled.
A velvet box opened slowly.
Inside
A twin diamond neckpiece.
Brilliant.
Perfectly cut.
Glowing under the lights.
"The first of its kind," the host announced. "And the last remaining piece in the country."
The room went silent.
Then—
"Bidding starts at fifty thousand dollars."
"Seventy."
"Ninety."
"One hundred and fifty thousand."
The numbers climbed steadily.
Controlled.
Calculated.
Maya leaned slightly toward Tan. "It's beautiful… but that's a lot of—"
"Do you like it?" Tan asked again, his eyes on her this time.
Maya hesitated. "I mean… I love it but—"
"1,000,000."
The room froze.
Every head turned.
Tan stood calmly, his expression unchanged.
Maya blinked.
"Tan—"
But it was too late.
"1,000,000 going once…" the host said, barely hiding his excitement.
Silence.
No one challenged it.
"Going twice…"
Still silence.
"Sold."
A wave of murmurs spread across the room.
Tan had just claimed it.
Effortlessly.
He signed the confirmation without hesitation.
Then—
Turned to Maya.
"It's yours."
Maya stared at him, completely caught off guard.
"You didn't have to—"
"I wanted to," he said simply.
Moments later, the piece was registered.
In her name.
Around them, eyes lingered.
Some impressed.
Some envious.
Some calculating.
It felt sudden.
Too sudden.
But in that moment—
Maya didn't question it.
And neither did Tan.
The auction didn't slow down.
If anything—it escalated.
One masterpiece after another graced the stage.
A rare gold sculpture went for $900,000.
A signed historical manuscript climbed past $1.7 million.
A diamond-studded wristpiece sparked a heated bidding war before finally settling at $2.2 million.
Each item wasn't just bought.
It was claimed.
Power was being measured.
Quietly.
Publicly.
Relentlessly.
Then,
The lights dimmed further.
A soft blue glow filled the room.
And the host's voice rang out, louder this time.
"Ladies and gentlemen…"
A pause.
"The final piece of the night."
The room stilled.
"The Sapphire Dress."
A collective murmur swept through the hall.
The glass case at the center slowly opened
And it appeared.
The dress shimmered like liquid midnight.
Deep sapphire blue, embedded with fine, perfectly cut stones that caught the light with every slight movement, creating an illusion of stars dancing across its surface. The fabric flowed effortlessly, soft yet structured, hugging an invisible form as though it already knew its wearer.
It wasn't just beautiful.
It was… alive.
"This dress," the host continued, "is not only embedded with rare precious stones—it is designed with adaptive tailoring. A one-size creation… that fits perfectly, regardless of body type."
Gasps.
Soft whispers.
Even the most composed women leaned forward.
"Wow…" Maya breathed.
Elena's eyes didn't leave the stage.
Jane smiled slowly.
Janaya said nothing—but her gaze lingered.
"Bidding starts at five hundred thousand dollars."
"Eight hundred thousand."
Jane's voice came immediately—calm, confident.
She wanted it.
For her collection.
"1 million."
Another voice cut in.
"1.2 million," Elena said quickly.
She surprised even herself.
"1.5 million."
"1.8 million," Jane responded, sharper this time.
The tension rose instantly.
Then
"2.5 million."
Jason.
Every head turned.
Elena blinked, surprised.
"You want the dress too?" she asked softly.
Jason didn't look at her immediately.
"Yes," he said calmly. "For someone who promised to heal me."
That did something to her.
Something real.
She looked away slightly, a soft blush forming.
It had been a long time since she felt… chosen.
"2.5 million going once—"
"3.5 million."
An older man spoke from across the room, his tone effortless.
Murmurs spread again.
Jason's jaw tightened slightly.
"3.6 million."
His voice was firmer now.
"3.8 million."
A well-known singer raised her paddle casually, her expression playful but competitive.
A pause.
Jason exhaled once.
Then—
"5 million."
Silence.
This time,
No one responded.
Not Jane.
Not Elena.
Not the others.
The number had spoken enough.
"5 million going once…"
"Going twice…"
"Sold!"
Applause filled the room.
Jason didn't react much.
Didn't celebrate.
He simply signed the confirmation and leaned slightly toward the attendant.
"Package it," he said quietly. "I'll send for it later."
No attention.
No show.
Just intention.
"That was a battle," Elena said softly, still processing everything.
Jason gave a small nod.
"Thank you," she added.
But in her mind—
Something had shifted.
This wasn't strategy anymore.
She actually liked him.
Still… she chose caution.
Slow.
Careful.
Because she knew how easily things could break.
The night gradually softened after that.
The tension of the auction gave way to celebration.
Lucien's grand cake was brought out, cameras flashing once again as laughter returned to the room.
Music followed.
A live performance.
Then dancing.
And gifts started flowing in.
Then a quiet transition into a private movie screening for selected guests.
One by one,
People began to leave.
The night winding down.
But the effects of it…
Were just beginning.
Near the exit,
Adrian adjusted his watch, scanning the room briefly.
"Where is Damian?" he asked.