Chapter 51 Intimate Blade, Deep Love Trump Card
As Oliver's voice rang out, everyone's eyes turned once again to those two seats.
William looked at the woman not far away. She stood there quietly, all her emotions hidden beneath the mask.
In business battles, you fight with your cards, your tactics, and there's another crucial element—the psychological warfare between all parties the moment you sit at the table.
Emotional control is an essential skill in this game. Over the years, William had won countless psychological battles with a face that revealed nothing.
No one could figure out his real hand, couldn't tell if his calm was a disguise or confidence in victory, couldn't tell if the subtle emotions he occasionally revealed were weaknesses or traps.
Yet he could always see through everyone else's psychological patterns at a glance, easily flipping over their cards.
But this woman before him...
William narrowed his eyes slightly, carefully observing her every move.
As Oliver's voice fell, all eyes in the venue focused on this Lika.
Then everyone saw her lift her eyes slightly, looking directly at William.
Her red lips curved slightly, sketching a faint smile on her face.
Her right hand lifted slightly, and then a number appeared on her bidding paddle.
"Bidder 823 continues bidding, offering 15 million US dollars!"
Oliver's aged but steady voice spread throughout the inner venue.
15 times!
Already 15 times the 1 million dollar starting price!
The inner venue had been quite noisy during the earlier bidding, but now it was dead silent.
Everyone seemed to be holding their breath, just waiting for the final result.
"Bidder 823 offers 15 million US dollars. Any higher bids?"
As Oliver's voice rang out again, everyone's eyes locked on William.
William's expression remained unchanged as he raised his right hand slightly.
Then everyone heard Oliver's voice again—
"Bidder 888 continues bidding, offering 18 million US dollars!"
18 times!
Everyone gasped.
Just a tanzanite stone, bid up to 18 million dollars!
And this might not even be the final price!
"Bidder 888 offers 18 million US dollars. Any higher bids?"
Oliver moved quickly, the pressure in the room intense.
Everyone looked at bidder 823, Lika, again.
Would she dare to continue?
If she bid again, could she afford this price?
But with William's wealth, a mere 18 million dollars—he didn't care about that kind of money at all.
But what if William was willing to pay an even higher price?
For example, whatever Lika bid, he would donate the same amount to charity?
After all, just from publicly available information, William's charitable donations last year exceeded a billion dollars.
Including but not limited to scholarships at various universities, rural development, treatment for sick children, major illness medical funds, natural disaster donations, special school donations, various special support funds, and so on.
And that was just charitable donations made in his personal name or in the name of him and his wife. The charitable work done in the name of the Brown Group was even more extensive.
So if he got angry and was willing to pay the corresponding price to make his opponent bleed heavily or even be ruined, it was possible.
And did this Lika have the guts to continue bidding?
The inner venue was completely silent, everyone's eyes focused on Lika again.
Then they saw the woman's expression remain unchanged as her right hand continued to rise.
"Bidder 823 continues bidding, offering 20 million US dollars!"
As Oliver's voice spread throughout the inner venue.
The way everyone looked at Lika changed.
Crazy!
She was absolutely crazy!
Already 20 times!
Was she really not afraid?
Her bidding opponent was William!
"Bidder 823 offers 20 million US dollars. Any higher bids?"
So even though Oliver was now directing his words toward William, no one shifted their attention from Lika.
Everyone was watching this woman.
Or rather, this lunatic!
Although many people present could come up with 20 million dollars—after all, those invited to this charity auction dinner were all upper-class elites, either wealthy or noble.
But not a single person felt they could be crazier than this Lika.
A flash of coldness passed through William's eyes.
This was already a provocation.
The opponent's repeated decisive bids, even with a mocking tone, were all challenging his limits.
Not his limits of power and money.
But his limits of emotional tolerance.
And his limits as William, the supreme authority of the Brown Group.
His gesture unchanged, William raised his right hand again.
"Bidder 888 continues bidding, offering 25 million US dollars!"
The entire venue was shocked.
25 times!
At this point in the bidding, it had exceeded everyone's expectations.
No, perhaps, except for one person.
"Bidder 888 offers 25 million US dollars. Any higher bids?"
Everyone continued staring at Lika in seat 823.
William too.
His eyes narrowed, staring intently at Lika before him.
Trying to pierce through her mask, to see her true inner self beneath the skin.
But the woman just smiled slightly, then raised her right hand.
But this time it wasn't to bid. Instead, she placed her right hand over her left chest and bowed slightly.
"You win," she said. "Congratulations, Mr. Brown."
The woman's light, calm voice echoed throughout the inner venue.
Everyone froze.
Just when everyone thought Lika would go crazy again, she withdrew.
And she withdrew very gracefully.
Everything that happened was as if she had designed it, as if she was the controller, while William was the one caught in the game.
The lights shone on the slightly bowing woman, her silver-white satin flowing gown perfectly presenting her slender figure to everyone.
Had she really lost?
The venue was full of all kinds of people.
Divided into several camps, among them—
To many who didn't understand, it looked like 823 had lost.
But—
She just stood there, already bowing, but anyone who knew the game wouldn't think she had lost. On the contrary, defeating the strong from a weak position, she had won this psychological battle brilliantly.
"Now we enter the final bidding phase. Bidder 888 offers 25 million US dollars. Is anyone willing to bid higher?"
Oliver's voice pulled everyone's thoughts back.
The venue focused again.
But no one spoke up.
A tanzanite stone for 25 million dollars—no one would bid again.
"25 million US dollars, first call."
Oliver's voice echoed throughout the venue.
No one spoke up.
"25 million US dollars, second call."
Oliver paused again.
Still no one spoke up.
"25 million US dollars, final call."
This time the wait was slightly longer, but as everyone expected, no one bid again.
The lights finally fell on William and that dazzling deep blue tanzanite stone.
The lights in the inner venue swept past like a swimming dragon, and above the villa, drones formed palace lanterns burning brilliantly.
Oliver brought down the hammer and finally announced—
"Sold! Please show your paddle number again. Number 888, sold for 25 million US dollars! Congratulations on becoming the owner of this item."