Chapter 85 The highest bidder
CHAPTER 85: The highest bidder
Silas
The silence at our table was heavy and sharp. Claudia had left with Samantha after Chauncey had stepped out earlier. I sat with my hand resting over Vera’s, but my mind was anything but calm. I kept stealing side glances at her, trying to imagine her with red hair. Trying to see if I could trigger or unlock more memories.
The internal war I was waging was interrupted by the reemergence of my younger brother. Chauncey walked back in. The layers of emotions that the return of his ex-fiancee seemed to have heaped on him earlier had disappeared, replaced by a lighter, almost excited gait. Not too far behind him, Cherry trailed back to Lucas, her lips a shade darker and her eyes wide with a frantic sort of light.
I hoped he had finally managed to speak up.
He stopped beside the table and took a glass of water, and took a sip.
“Where have you been?” I asked, my voice cutting through the orchestral hum.
He dropped the glass and pulled out his chair, adjusting his cuffs, his eyes darting around the room.
“I needed air, brother. The atmosphere here is a bit... suffocating,” he added, looking in Vera’s direction.
I didn't press him further. I could see the smudge on his collar and the way he subtly kept glancing towards Lucas’s table over the glass of water he was drinking from.
He dropped the glass. “Where's Claud?”
“She stepped out with Samantha,” I informed him flatly, my eyes drifting back to the stage as the lights dimmed for the main event to begin.
“Good evening, Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the highlight of our fundraising ball!” the host’s voice boomed, rich and theatrical. “Tonight, beauty and elegance will serve a greater cause.”
He paused and there was another roar of applause. He continued. “We request the presence of the selected lovely ladies to join me here…”
He began to roll off a list of names and the ladies joined him on stage. I barely paid attention to what was going on anymore, till the host’s voice drifted back to me again.
“... the lovely date of Mr Lucas Luther, Miss Cherry, and of course, the radiant wife of Mr Silas Rutherford, Mrs Vera Rutherford.”
I felt Vera stiffen beneath my touch. I knew she was about to refuse, but for the numerous pairs of eyes that turned towards our table…towards her.
I leaned in, whispering in her ear. “Come on, Vera. You can do this. It’ll be over before you know it.”
She looked at me with wide frantic eyes. She nodded.
“Smile. Everyone's watching.”
Her hand trembled beneath mine, but she pulled a smile on her face. I stood and guided her toward the steps, my touch lingering on her skin.
As she stood under the spotlight with the other women, the host continued,
“Remember, the winner of each bid earns an exclusive date with each of these gorgeous women, with every cent going toward our foundation's efforts. Let the bidding begin.”
The room erupted into a flurry of numbers. Vera never took her eyes off me. I could see the silent plea in her eyes. A plea for me to win the bid.
Chauncey didn't hesitate; he was in a bidding war with Lucas for Cherry before the host could even finish the rules. They traded amounts like blows, their stares crossing the room with lethal intent.
I began the bid for Vera, my voice calm and authoritative, signaling to the room that she was mine. I was not about to allow another man to have even five minutes with my wife. And I think that the room got the memo. I had no serious contenders.
But as I watched her stand there in that midnight-teal velvet, the strobe lights of the stage triggered a violent, white-hot flash in my mind. It wasn't just flashes of red hair or a pleading voice this time.
It was a detail so specific it made my lungs seize: a distinct, crescent-shaped birthmark nestled just beneath the collarbone.
At once, I stared at Vera’s neckline, the 'what if' in my head turning into a desperate, driving need for confirmation. If I could find out if she had the exact mark, then I'd have the final missing piece of the puzzle…the confirmation that that woman was Vera. My ultimate damnation.
I was so caught up in the memory, calculating the exact position of that mark, that I barely noticed the bidding for Vera had spiked.
“Going once, going twice... sold to the gentleman in the back for twenty million!” the host shouted, slamming the gavel.
Beside me, Chauncey who seemed to have finally outbid Lucas for Cherry, let out a breath, but his triumph died when he saw my face.
“Silas? Who the hell is that?”
I stood frozen. I turned in the direction the host had pointed, but saw no one that he was indicating. The audience was dispersing, going back to their tables.
I had been distracted, and now some stranger had just bought a date with my wife.
“I'll be right back,” I whispered to Chauncey, my eyes on Vera as she was making her way down from the stage.
I approached her, and helped her down from the stage, her face pale with confusion.
“Silas…who was that?”
“We'll talk about it later,” I said, guiding through the throng of people, my hand on her lower back. “We have to go, now.”
I was about to pull her toward the exit, to head home. To find that mark, to find out if I was the criminal in my own memories.
A man approached us, his suit too sharp and his smile too predatory for this room. His hair slickly gelled back, giving him that sleazy look that matched his eyes. I had no idea who he was. Vera looked at him with the vacant stare of a stranger.
“Silas Rutherford,” the man said, though his eyes never left Vera. “And the lovely Vera. I don't believe we've been formally introduced.”
“Who are you?” I demanded, stepping in front of her.
By now, Chauncey had caught up with us, and had pulled Vera to his side. “He won the bid for Vera.”
My jaw tightened. “Name your price. But you’re not getting two feet close to my wife.”
The man ignored me, turning his gaze back to Vera’s face. He looked her straight in the eye, his gaze dropping pointedly, sickeningly, to the curve of her stomach. He paused there, a smirk curving his lips.
“I've been looking for you since that night in Vegas, Vera,” he whispered, loud enough to shatter the world. “I believe you're carrying something that belongs to me.”