Chapter33 Attending the Auction
The next day, Ariana was pacing her apartment excitedly.
She’d heard from a friend who worked in City C that Professor Zara was planning to move her practice to City A, and the news had made her practically jump for joy.
She immediately dialed Harrison’s number, her voice sickeningly sweet: "Harrison! I just heard! Professor Zara—she's really coming to City A!"
Harrison on the other end of the line was slightly taken aback.
He clearly remembered that just a few days ago, he had asked someone to contact Zara, hoping to invite her to take a senior position at a private hospital in City A and, incidentally, to mentor Ariana. The professor had flatly refused, citing a busy research schedule.
Why the sudden change of heart?
Could his offered terms have swayed her, causing her to reconsider?
It had to be.
The flicker of doubt vanished instantly from Harrison’s mind. He chuckled softly, his tone full of indulgence: "Yeah, I told you. Whatever you want, I’ll make it happen for you."
Ariana’s voice was filled with adoration and gratitude: "I knew it, Harrison. You’re the best to me."
"Silly girl," Harrison’s voice grew even softer. "Doing this little thing for you? It’s nothing."
A few days later, at the Prescott Manor.
The morning sun streamed over the elegant estate. Mr. Prescott sat at the head of the table, looking hale and hearty as he addressed Clifton and Miranda.
"There’s a charity auction tonight in the south of the city," Mr. Prescott said, setting down his coffee. "Clifton, you take Miranda. If my granddaughter-in-law fancies anything, just buy it. Put it all on my tab."
Miranda quickly spoke up: "Grandpa, you don’t have to, I—"
"Nonsense!" Mr. Prescott pretended to look stern. "The two of you haven’t had a proper date since you got married. You spend too little time together. Clifton’s not the most thoughtful guy, so this time, you listen to me. You have to go!"
Since Mr. Prescott had insisted, Miranda had no choice but to reluctantly agree.
That evening, the butler delivered the prepared gown to the room.
When Miranda, dressed in the gown, emerged from the massive walk-in closet, she immediately spotted Clifton, who was already waiting outside.
He sat in his wheelchair, also wearing a well-tailored, dark suit. A sapphire blue bowtie, which complemented the color of her dress, was fastened at his collar. His usual formidable aura was slightly softened, making him look more noble and graceful.
Clifton looked up. When his eyes landed on Miranda, something in their deep depths suddenly brightened, flashing with undisguised astonishment.
The woman was wearing a minimalist, ivory-white long gown that perfectly accentuated her slender figure.
The skirt was adorned with scattered silver sequins that, as she moved, made it look as though she was wearing the entire galaxy.
She was beautiful, like an angel who had mistakenly stumbled into the mortal world—clean and pure. Yet, her cool, clear eyes, with a slight upturn at the corners, carried an unconscious hint of allure that made it impossible to look away.
Miranda had walked up to him. Seeing him stare without saying a word, she tugged at her skirt uncomfortably and asked, a little confused, "What’s wrong? Is this outfit… inappropriate?"
Clifton snapped out of his trance. He swallowed involuntarily.
He suddenly reached out and pulled her closer.
Miranda gasped in surprise, completely unprepared, and tumbled right into his lap. The solid warmth of his thighs, palpable through the thin fabric of his suit pants, instantly made her cheeks flush.
"Clifton!"
The man ignored her struggle. His arm wrapped tightly around her waist. He lowered his head and leaned close to her ear, his warm breath tickling her earlobe, his voice deep and magnetic: "Nothing’s inappropriate."
He paused, a playful note entering his tone: "I’m just worried that once you show up at the auction, other guys might lose their minds over you."
Miranda was startled, then realized he was complimenting her looks.
Her heart skipped a beat for no reason, and her face grew hotter. But she lifted her chin to meet his profound gaze, smiling with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Don’t worry," she deliberately drew out the words. "Legally, I’m all yours."
The words were like a feather, lightly brushing the edge of Clifton’s heart.
A sense of unprecedented satisfaction instantly filled his chest.
He released Miranda, his lips curling up into a barely perceptible smile: "Yeah, good to know. Come on, we should leave."
At the auction venue.
Ariana intimately hooked her arm through Harrison’s and settled into a front-row VIP seat, her face glowing with unconcealed pride.
She flipped through the auction catalog, pointed to a page, and said sweetly, "Harrison, look. There's a necklace that belonged to a 16th-century princess in the auction today. It’s so gorgeous. I love it."
Harrison glanced at the item. It was an exquisitely designed sapphire necklace, which indeed suited Ariana’s style.
He smiled tenderly, his voice imbued with the certainty of one who would surely obtain it: "Since you like it, I'll bid on it and get it for you."
"Thank you, Harrison!"
Just as Ariana was about to say something more, her peripheral vision caught a familiar figure heading toward the stairs to the second floor.
Wasn’t that Miranda’s back?
Ariana abruptly stood up, staring intently at the second-floor stairwell.
Harrison, seeing this, frowned and asked her, "Ariana, what's wrong?"
"I…" Ariana hesitated, uncertain. "I thought I just saw my cousin, but maybe I was mistaken."
Harrison followed her gaze toward the stairwell, then slightly furrowed his brows: "You must be wrong. The second floor is reserved for private boxes for the old, established, top-tier families in City A. She wouldn't have the status to go up there."
As soon as he said that, Ariana also felt she had been overthinking.
Right. Invitations for an auction of this caliber had all been sent out a week ago. How could Miranda possibly have an invitation, let alone be eligible for the second floor?
She sat down, her earlier doubt completely gone.
Upstairs, in Box Number Two.
The opulent room was completely shielded from the noise downstairs.
A waiter respectfully delivered a more exquisite auction catalog. Clifton took it and handed it to Miranda: "See anything you like?"
Miranda shook her head: "You really don’t have to buy anything specifically for me. I don’t wear much jewelry normally."
Clifton smiled, not pressuring her: "It’s Grandpa’s instruction. If there's nothing you love, I’ll just bid on a few things at random."
"Sounds good," Miranda nodded.
The auction officially began.
One exquisite item after another was presented and then sold, the atmosphere gradually becoming more heated.
Finally, the grand finale item was brought out. The host’s voice rang out with excitement: "Next up is the centerpiece of tonight’s auction—the 'Heart of the Ocean'! It was once the cherished possession of a 16th-century royal princess. Its main stone is a fifty-carat, top-grade royal blue sapphire…"