Chapter 98

"You must be joking!" Isabella's smile froze, her voice trembling with rage. "I purchased this painting at the Kingsley Group's auction. How could it possibly be a fake?"

This accusation dragged the Kingsley Group into the scandal.

Alexander scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. "Ms. Sinclair, it seems you're unfamiliar with how auctions work. Parkray Auction, under the Kingsley Group, is the most prestigious in the country. Every item undergoes rigorous authentication—there's no chance a forgery would slip through. Perhaps your lack of expertise in art is the issue here, but don't tarnish our reputation with baseless claims."

Nathaniel's eyes darkened.

He remembered the charity auction vividly—how Evelyn had subtly encouraged Isabella to bid ten times the painting's value, her lips curling into that enigmatic smile.

Had Evelyn anticipated Isabella gifting this painting to Mr. Vanderbilt?

Was this mere coincidence, or had Evelyn set a trap from the beginning?

"Ms. Sinclair, there's a distinction between a forgery and a replica," an art expert interjected, defending the Kingsley Group. "Some replicas are original works in their own right—many artists recreate famous pieces. That doesn't make them forgeries. A well-executed replica can be incredibly valuable. However... yours falls short. Otherwise, I wouldn't have spotted the flaws immediately."

"A replica? Impossible! I paid a million for this at Parkray Auction!"

Isabella's face drained of color, panic setting in.

A million—wasted on a fake? Had she been played for a fool?

Laughter rippled through the crowd.

Victoria had to bite her lip to keep from bursting into laughter.

What a spectacle.

"A million? This piece isn't worth more than a hundred thousand. Your generous contribution to charity is commendable, though."

Isabella swayed, the room spinning around her.

Sophia turned away, unwilling to defend the humiliated Ms. Sinclair.

"Regardless of its value, it's a gift from Ms. Sinclair," Mr. Vanderbilt said diplomatically, though his disdain was palpable. "Mr. Lockwood, take the painting."

Tears welled in Isabella's eyes as she whirled on Evelyn, her voice shaking with fury. "Evelyn! What grudge do you hold against me? Why would you do this?"

From the moment she'd arrived at the birthday gala, she'd been mocked and belittled. Now, she couldn't take it anymore.

All eyes turned to Evelyn, curious.

Evelyn blinked, her expression the picture of innocence. "Hurt you? Ms. Sinclair, I don't understand. What do you mean?"

Sebastian and Alexander exchanged stunned glances.

Was this the classic case of turning the tables?

"This was your trap! You knew this was a replica, yet you drove the price up to a million! This is all your fault!" Isabella jabbed a finger at Evelyn, her voice hoarse with rage. "I may not be an art expert, but you—you knew! You manipulated me into buying this worthless piece! How could you?!"

Nathaniel's lips thinned, his icy gaze locked onto Evelyn.

"I never persuaded you to do anything," Evelyn said softly, her eyes wide with feigned confusion. "When did I ever force you to bid?"

"Ms. Sinclair, auctions are public events. No one forces anyone to bid—you made your own choices," Sebastian cut in, a smirk playing on his lips.

"You—!" Isabella's chest heaved. "When you saw I wanted the painting, you deliberately outbid me! Every time I raised my offer, you countered! You drove the price from a hundred thousand to nine hundred thousand—then dropped out when I hit a million! You set me up!"

"Again, Ms. Sinclair, this is a replica, not a forgery," Alexander interjected dryly.

"If Evelyn wanted the painting, why didn't she keep bidding? She just wanted to humiliate me!" Isabella seethed.

The murmurs in the room grew louder.

"Is Evelyn still bitter about the divorce? Is this her revenge?"

"Pathetic. They're already divorced—what's the point?"

"The point? Nathaniel is a catch. Of course she's not over him."

"Looks can be deceiving. Even the smartest women resort to petty games when it comes to men."

The whispers fueled Isabella's satisfaction.

"Evelyn, is this true?" Frederic frowned, his tone stern.

Mr. Vanderbilt studied Evelyn, waiting for her response.

"Ms. Sinclair, you've misunderstood me completely." Evelyn stepped forward, her eyes shimmering with hurt. "I placed the first bid. You only joined after seeing me. I adore this painting—I wanted to support the charity and secure it for myself. Mr. Prescott and Mr. Kingsley can confirm this."

The tables had turned.

"Evelyn, you—!" Isabella choked on her fury.

"I can attest to that!" Alexander jumped in, eager to defend Evelyn. "Evelyn bid first. The painting should rightfully be hers."

Nathaniel shot Alexander a glare.

This man was insufferable.

"I intended to keep the replica because I own the original," Evelyn explained, her voice soft. "It reminds me of cherished moments with my family."

She bit her lip, lowering her gaze. "True, Ms. Sinclair also wanted it. We bid back and forth, but ultimately, I chose to step aside. I don't understand why you're accusing me... If you feel wronged, I'll compensate you for the painting."

The shift was masterful. Evelyn's eyes glistened with unshed tears, her performance flawless.

Nathaniel watched her, his chest tightening.

She was putting on a show—and he was the unwilling audience.

"What nonsense!" Isabella's face burned crimson.

Sophia pinched her arm sharply, silencing her before she could escalate the scene.

"A misunderstanding, Mr. Vanderbilt," Sophia said smoothly. "Isabella rarely attends such events. She only wanted to show her respect for you." She shot Isabella a warning look. "Mrs. Sterling just called—something urgent. You should return her call immediately."

Isabella clenched her jaw and stormed off.

After a beat of silence, Mr. Vanderbilt took Evelyn's hand. "If you love the painting, just tell me. I'd give you anything you desire."

"Thank you, Mr. Vanderbilt. Your kindness is more than enough." Evelyn smiled sweetly, squeezing his hand.

The message was clear.

Nathaniel and Evelyn might be divorced—but their story wasn't over.

As for Isabella?

Her hopes had just gone up in flames.