Chapter 18: Whatever You Want, It’s Yours
Despite her efforts to keep her voice subdued, Giselle couldn't mask her rage, attracting the attention of many onlookers.
Cynthia returned her glare with one of her own, fierce yet restrained, knowing better than to challenge Megan-the power of the Shaw family was not to be trifled with.
Cynthia had once tried to curry favor with Megan, but to her frustration, Megan was foolishly devoted only to Giselle, even assisting her in retaliating against Cynthia multiple times. As the dispute continued, someone called out, "Six million."
The auctioneer declared, "Six million for the first time."
"Six and a half million."
Giselle watched the numbers climb, her anxiety spiking.
Having been burned before, she was reluctant to consider another loan, yet she couldn't possibly come up with such an amount right now.
"Six million six hundred thousand."
The auctioneer commented with a smile, "It's a tight race, but this piece is a heritage jewel, truly worth the chase."
"Seven million."
The auctioneer announced, "Seven million for the first time."
Silence fell over the room; no one dared to bid higher.
Megan grabbed Giselle's wrist, gently easing her anxiety.
"Seven million for the second time."
Despair washed over Giselle like a tidal wave.
Cynthia was right; this was a fool's dream. While she might have managed five million, seven million was beyond her reach.
She slumped in her chair, utterly defeated.
Just as the auctioneer was about to finalize the sale, the doors of the banquet hall swung open.
A man, tall and with a confident stride, entered against a backdrop of blinding light, his features obscured.
"Ten million."
That unmistakably familiar voice...
Giselle turned sharply to see who it was.
It was him.
He appeared thinner than when she last saw him two weeks ago, his trench coat hanging more loosely on his frame, suggesting he had come in haste.
From across the room, Henry Jefferson locked eyes with her, his gaze bloodshot yet undeniably affectionate.
She's lost weight? I'll need to check with Sophie later.
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The auctioneer, energized, called out, "Ten million for the first time."
By the third call, no further bids were placed, and whispers filled the room about the man who had offered ten million.
While the jewelry was exquisite, ten million was excessive.
"Sold!"
Under the watchful eyes of everyone, Henry walked down the aisle and took the seat next to Giselle.
Without hesitation, he pulled her into his arms and whispered affectionately, "Darling, why didn't you tell me you were coming to the auction?"
Giselle had sneaked out, eluding her driver and guards by slipping away from the women's changing room.
Upon receiving news of her 'escape,' Henry had been in the neighboring city, racing back as quickly as he could.
Fortunately, she hadn't actually run away; she had just come to the auction.
His voice was calm and endearing, exuding a gentle elegance to the uninitiated.
But to Giselle, who had suffered his torments, even his voice triggered an oppressive panic.
She tensed up, subtly pushing him away, not wanting the others to detect their relationship.
Henry, unfazed, leaned in to kiss her forehead and then, gesturing towards the auction display, asked, "What else do you like? Let's buy it."
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"No." Giselle pushed him away more forcefully, creating distance, "Consider this ten million a loan, which I intend to repay."
"A loan?" Henry chuckled, "My dear, what's mine is yours. Spend it however it pleases you."
"I will repay you," Giselle insisted firmly.
"Alright."
Henry indulgently agreed, knowing well he would never actually take her repayment.
Clark was astounded. The impressive man who had bid ten million was Giselle's boyfriend?
When had she managed to attract such a wealthy patron?
"Excuse me, sir, might you be... our little Giselle's...?" Clark tapped Henry's shoulder and inquired. Little Giselle?
Giselle nearly laughed out loud at this sudden display of familial concern.
Henry ignored Clark, turning instead to Giselle, "Do you know this man?"
"Not at all," Giselle responded almost instantly.
Henry nodded in satisfaction, "He looks as coarse as he is; you shouldn't know him."