Face-off
Conor sat back, tossed the bid card onto the table.
Someone in the audience let out a disappointed ‘Aw.’
‘A hundred million dollars. One hundred. Going once.’ The auctioneer dragged out the words, scanning the crowd.
I regretted letting Kieran talk me into coming here.
I could take the humiliation, the pointed looks, the jeers.
But I couldn’t take tossing a hundred million dollars over a necklace.
For that kind of money, I could be living in a house built out of caviar and swimming in a river of champagne.
‘Going twice.’
The hammer was raised.
‘Two hundred.’
I almost leapt up from my seat when I heard the unfamiliar voice.
Kieran frowned.
We both turned, located the new bidder seated two tables behind us.
The man in a midnight blue tux looked to be in his mid-twenties, clean-shaven, hair slicked back and meticulously combed.
But it was the man next to him that drew my attention.
The sexagenarian’s ebony suit contrasted sharply against his snow-white hair.
He sat ramrod straight, hands
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