Chapter 12
Arya flicked her eyes his way, barely interested. Six months ago, Malcolm had led her the same cheesy line.
Typical sleazeball, she thought, her pare sharpening
“Te Myrop!” the snapped.
Malcolm blinked, lost. What’s this chick on about?
School was never his jam–his diplomas were bought, not earned. Foreign languages? He was lucky if he could string two words together.
“What’d you say?” he mumbled, scratching his head.
Arya raised a brow, cool as ice. “Tu es un déchet.”
She brushed past him, head high, not sparing him a glance.
Malcolm’s face bumed. No way was he letting some girl roast him like that.
“Hey!” he barked, chasing her down and grabbing her arm. “Who you calling trash, huh?”
Wrong move.
- e. Arya spun, snatched him up like he was nothing, and slammed him to the ground with a slick shoulder throw.
Fast, Fierce. Freaking flawless.
Malcolm hit the floor hard, pain ripping through him. Worse, he w
was helpless–she was just too quick, a blur he couldn’t touch.
venom. “I don’t vibe with trash. Stay
Arya flicked her hair back, looking like a queen who’d just yeeted some garbage. “Listen up,” she said, voice pure ven
away.”
When Malcolm finally looked up, her eyes hit him–sparkling, deadly, and weirdly familiar.
Achill shot through him, like he’d seen that fire before.
Arya sauntered back to her VIP seat at the auction, oblivious that her takedown had caught the eye of Finn and his crew, who’d just rolled in.
Finn, all sharp angles and icy cool, watched with a tight frown. His dark eyes flickered, something intense simmering beneath.
Russell, trailing him, snorted. “Your shady nephew’s out here bombing hard, huh?”
Hugo,
, meanwhile, was all heart–eyes as he glanced at Arya. “That girl’s a total badass. Gotta be single, right?”
“She’s taken,” Finn cut in, his voice cold enough to frost glass.
Hugo’s jaw dropped as Finn’s tall frame strode toward the private booth. “Wait, what? Isn’t he marrying his nephew’s fiancée? Now he’s into her too?”
Arya slipped back into the auction hall just as the show was about to start. The room hummed with anticipation, and soon the gavel banged, kicking things off.
First up were the usual bits–old paintings, fancy antiques, and some emerald trinkets. Arya wasn’t impressed.
She didn’t even glance at her paddle, just lounged in her seat, cool and unbothered.
Time crawled by. Arya checked her watch, sensing the Miracle Pill Kwas due any minute.
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Chapter 12
Then, a woman’s gasp sliced through the chatter: “No way, it’s the AurbtalTM
Suddenly, the room exploded with excited squeals.
“God, that ring’s insanel”
“Who’s gonna score that beauty tonight?”
“Seeing the Aurora up close? I’m set for life.”
Arya flicked her eyes to the stage.
There, in a sleek dress, a woman stood holding a velvet tray. On it sata purple diamond ring that sparkled like it owned the place.
The lights hit it just right, making the gem glow like it was on fire.
Arya had seen plenty of killer diamonds, but this purple one? It was a rare gem, the kind one didn’t come across often
Still, something about the design felt familiar, like it could’ve been one of her own sketches.
She gave it a quick look, then shrugged it off.
Her focus was locked on the Miracle Pill K. A drop dead gorgeous purple diamond? Cool, but not her thing
From the VIP section across the auction floor, Malcolm’s eyes, sharp behind gold–rimmed glasses, bored into Arya.
The sting of her tossing him to the ground like a sack of potatoes still burned, His fists clenched.
“One day, I’ll have her begging at my feet; he vowed.
Eloise, oblivious to the grudge fueling Malcolm, snuggled closer, her head on his shoulder. “Malcolm, that purple diamond’s stunning, Can you grab it for me? Please, babe?”
Malcolm shoved his dark thoughts aside and shot her a slick grin, pulling her in. “You got it, sweetheart.”
Eloise beamed, her voice sugary sweet. “Knew you’d have my back, Malcolm. You’re the best.”
In her head, she was already planning to shove that rock in Arya’s face.
“Let that nobody see who really rules,” she thought. A diamond like that?All mine
Onstage, the auctioneer’s smile was pure charm. “Next up, ‘The Aurora, a one–of–a–kind gem by the famous Leo. Starting bid: one–point–five mill
The words barely hit the air before the VIPs went nuts. Bidders popped up, throwing numbers like they were betting on a bar game
Arya’s ears caught “Leo.” That was why the piece felt so familiar–it was his. She hadn’t pegged this purple diamond as one of his creations.
Three minutes in, “The Aurora” hit sixteen million.
In the private suite, Russell eyed Finn, who was lounging like he owned the joint, not even touching his paddle. “Yo, Finn, you ghosting on ‘The Aurora“? What’s up?”
Finn’s lazy gaze lingered on Arya, looking like a total knockout in the VIP seats. His lips curled into a sly smirk. “No hurry,” he drawled.
Petty bids? Not his thing. Let the small–timers fight it out
“Sixteen million, going once!” the auctioneer called,
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Chapter 12
“Sixteen million, going twice!”
Just as the gavel hovered, Malcolm jumped up. “Eighteen million!” he barked, all swagger.
In the box, the air around Finn turned ice–cold the second Malcolm spoke.
His sharp eyes narrowed, flicking from Malcolm to the flirty arm candy glued to him..
‘So this is why that jerk left Arya to fend for herself with those kidnappers last night? For her?‘ he thought.
Hugo grinned, smelling drama. “Well, damn, Finn. Your nephew’s after that diamond too. Shit’s about to get real.”
He leaned back, ready for the show. Uncle and nephew duking it out over “The Aurora“? That was front–page gossip.
Finn’s chiseled face stayed cool as ever. He raised his paddle with a lazy flick, like it was no big deal.
“Thirty million!” he called, voice smooth but razor–sharp.
The auctioneer nearly lost it. “Anyone topping thirty million?”
Malcolm’s smug grin vanished. He’d been this close to nabbing the diamond, and now some mystery big shot in a private box was dropping thirty mill pocket change.
“Who the hell spends that much on a sparkly rock?‘ he wondered.
Estello Auction had a rule: private box bidders were ghosts–no names, no faces. Only the elite got that kind of treatment.
“Malcolm…” Eloise whined, tugging his arm as “The Aurora” slipped away.
“Babe, I need that diamond,” she pouted, all puppy–dog eyes.
