Chapter 228

The crowd gasped in shock as Isabella Sinclair donated the necklace right in the middle of the auction.

Unbelievable.

Victoria Sterling shot a frantic glance at Sophia Reynolds. Their eyes locked across the room, but neither could speak.

The reveal of Alexander Dubois' masterpiece sent electric waves through the audience.

Jewelry connoisseurs and fashion elites craned their necks, desperate to catch a glimpse of the legendary designer’s dazzling creation.

Nathaniel Hawthorne and Sebastian Lockwood, long-time admirers of Alexander Dubois, fixed their gazes on the piece.

Both men tightened their grips on their bidding paddles, ready to duel.

"Victoria, sit down! Everyone’s staring!" Margaret Laurent hissed, yanking her daughter back into the seat.

"Mother, something’s wrong!" Victoria’s voice trembled as she collapsed into the chair.

"What happened?"

"The necklace Isabella donated—it’s the one I gave her."

"You gave it? Where did you get an Alexander Dubois piece?"

Margaret froze, then fury twisted her features. "That wretched woman is throwing away a priceless gift, and you let her? How could you allow her to humiliate us like this? Why didn’t you give it to me instead of that actress? I raised you better!"

"Mother… it’s fake," Victoria confessed, sweat beading on her forehead.

Margaret’s heart lurched. "What did you say?"

"It was Sophia’s idea. She had Alexander’s apprentice replicate it."

Victoria stammered, "Isabella refused to sign the contract, so I had to win her over like Evelyn did. The necklace was flawless—from one of Alexander’s obscure collections. Isabella didn’t notice. I knew the truth would come out eventually, but by then, the contract would be signed, and it’d be too late. But I never thought she’d donate it! If this gets exposed, our family’s reputation is ruined!"

"You absolute fool!" Margaret dug her nails into Victoria’s arm. "Even if you couldn’t give her the real thing, you should’ve never handed her a fake! If this blows up, the Vanderbilts will be a laughingstock!"

"It wasn’t my idea! Sophia suggested it—don’t blame me!" Victoria whined.

"Can’t you see she’s using you?" Margaret seethed. "If this isn’t exposed, you get the contract and she gets rid of Evelyn. If it is, the necklace was donated under the Vanderbilt name. Sophia loses nothing—you take the fall!"

Victoria’s stomach dropped. She cursed her own naivety.

"Mother! What do we do?"

"We improvise." Margaret steadied herself. "Alexander has countless pieces worldwide. Who’s to say this one’s fake? Isabella didn’t notice. No one else will either."

Victoria exhaled shakily, but dread still coiled in her chest.

Isabella rose, microphone in hand, and smiled at the crowd.

Her gaze landed on Victoria, who paled.

"I’d like to thank Miss Victoria for this necklace—it was her generous gift."

Evelyn casually texted Jason backstage.

A spotlight suddenly pinned Victoria in place like a deer in headlights.

The overhead screen magnified her frozen expression in high definition.

Victoria forced a stiff smile, internally screaming.

"As a devoted fan of Alexander’s work, I believe in giving back. His philosophy was about more than beauty—it was about impact. I hope Miss Victoria approves of my decision to auction this piece for charity."

Victoria had no choice but to nod, praying the spotlight would vanish.

"Given its rarity, bidding starts with no reserve!"

The crowd hesitated.

"Three million dollars."

Sebastian raised his paddle, lips quirking.

Three million? The highest bid yet.

Though worth the price, the steep opening deterred others.

"Five million." Nathaniel countered, face unreadable—but his eyes burned with determination.

The audience gasped. Did he print money at home?

"Seven million." Sebastian didn’t flinch.

"Nine million."

"Ten million."

The room erupted.

Evelyn crossed her arms, unamused. "They’re not bidding—they’re brawling."

"Like two peacocks in a turf war," Olivia muttered.

Evelyn considered confiscating their paddles.

Meanwhile, Margaret gaped.

"Mother, you said he was broke! Since when does a penniless man bid ten million?"

Margaret had no answer.

Had she underestimated him? Was this some twisted power play?

"Twelve million." Nathaniel remained stone-faced.

"Fifteen million."

Evelyn’s voice cut through the tension like ice.

She’d had enough.