Chapter 151 Reveal Identity
Chapter 151 Reveal Identity
"Miss Morgan is so young, yet she carries herself with such presence and has a sharp eye for antiques." Alfie took a step forward, his tone deliberately ingratiating. "That 'Tears of the Deep' is indeed tonight's finest piece. If Miss Morgan is interested, after the banquet ends, I can take you backstage to see a few other items from our private collection. How does that sound?"
He was actively extending goodwill, even offering exceptionally high treatment.
However, Isabelle only gave him an extremely cold glance.
"Not interested." Isabelle's red lips parted slightly, her tone completely devoid of warmth.
She didn't even look at Alfie properly. She simply turned around and said flatly to Sean beside her, "Let's go back and sit. The auction isn't over yet."
Alfie's smile froze on his face.
The guests exchanged glances with each other.
Alfie had been so polite in trying to connect with her, even letting bygones be bygones, yet Isabelle publicly snubbed him? Not even a polite word—just a blunt "not interested" to dismiss him?
"She's way too arrogant..."
"Mr. Kalyn is so patient. Anyone else would've kicked her out by now."
"Just because she has Sean backing her up, she thinks she can disrespect Mr. Kalyn. So full of herself and completely lacking manners."
The guests didn't dare openly offend Sean, but they felt strong resentment toward Isabelle's arrogance.
In their eyes, Isabelle was nothing more than a gold digger abusing her power, while Alfie was a gentleman who maintained his composure despite being wronged.
Alfie stood there, watching Isabelle's cold, indifferent back, and a deeply hidden flash of malice crossed his eyes.
But soon, he recovered that tolerant, warm demeanor, gave a bitter smile, shook his head at the crowd, and walked back to the stage.
The auction continued.
Over the next hour, the entire banquet hall turned into Isabelle's personal show.
Whenever a high-value antique appeared on the big screen, Isabelle raised her paddle without hesitation.
"Medieval knight's sword, five million!"
"Twenty million." Isabelle raised her paddle.
"Persian royal gold coins, ten million!"
"Thirty million." Isabelle raised her paddle.
She completely ignored the actual market value of items. Whenever she bid, she simply doubled the price and crushed the competition.
Her way of spending money like water, treating dollars like they meant nothing, made all the guests' hearts race.
When someone tried to bid against her, Isabelle didn't even blink—she immediately raised the price to a hopeless, astronomical figure.
Sean sat beside her, legs crossed, posture relaxed.
He occasionally picked up a glass of water from the table and handed it to Isabelle, his eyes full of indulgence. He showed no sign of stopping her domineering, unreasonable shopping spree. In fact, when someone tried to compete, he used his icy stare to directly intimidate them into backing down.
In less than two hours, Isabelle had single-handedly acquired all the dozen or so featured antiques at the auction.
The total transaction amount exceeded a staggering three hundred million dollars.
When the hammer fell on the last item, the entire venue fell into dead silence. The guests stared at the back of the woman in the black windbreaker in the front row, their expressions incredibly complex.
Jealousy, resentment, and fear all mixed together.
This woman, with her massive wealth and Sean's backing, had trampled the dignity of Washington's entire high society under her feet today.
As the banquet ended, music played.
Guests got up to leave in small groups. When passing by Isabelle, they all consciously kept their distance, their eyes carrying silent reproach and alienation.
Isabelle paid no attention to any of it.
She stood up, picked up her coat, and prepared to leave.
At that moment, Alfie walked over again.
Ignoring the sympathetic looks from those around him, he came straight to Isabelle.
He pulled a gold-embossed black business card from his jacket pocket and held it out to Isabelle with both hands, his face still wearing that impeccably warm smile.
"Miss Morgan, thanks to your generosity today, this auction has set the highest record in our foundation's history." Alfie's eyes were sincere, his tone persistent. "I genuinely hope to become friends with you. This is my private card. Anytime Miss Morgan is willing to honor me with your presence, I'll be waiting."
Isabelle lowered her eyes, her cold gaze lightly sweeping over the gold-embossed black card.
She didn't reach out to take it, didn't even give it an extra glance, and simply strode past Alfie with her long legs.
This near-humiliating dismissal instantly ignited the media that had been lurking in ambush.
Camera flashes went crazy. A swarm of reporters wearing badges from various media outlets, like sharks smelling blood, rushed forward and instantly blocked Isabelle's path completely.
Sean's brow furrowed slightly, and an extremely dangerous impatience flashed through his deep black eyes.
He raised his hand, about to have Akin and Flynn forcibly clear the area.
Just then, Isabelle tilted her head slightly and gave him a look to stop.
Sean's movement paused.
He knew this little fox too well—she never did anything unprepared. Sean lowered his hand, slipped one hand in his pocket, stood beside her in a relaxed posture, and allowed the reporters to approach.
As long as he was there, even if the sky fell, it wouldn't touch a hair on her head.
The reporters' microphones were practically shoved in Isabelle's face, each question sharper and more cutting than the last.
"Miss Morgan, you spent three hundred million dollars tonight. Can you confirm whether this massive sum came from legal sources?"
"You just publicly ignored Mr. Kalyn's goodwill. Do you have hostility toward charity itself?"
"There are rumors that you're just using Everlight's influence to establish dominance in Washington's elite circles. What's your response to this nouveau riche behavior?"
The aggressive questioning echoed through the banquet hall entrance.
Seeing this, Alfie stepped forward at just the right moment. He positioned himself in front of Isabelle, faced the cameras, and wore an impeccably warm smile. "Media friends, please don't make things difficult for Miss Morgan. Charity comes in many forms. Miss Morgan's generosity tonight has already proven her kind heart. It's normal for young people to have some personality. Please focus on the charity itself and don't read too much into this."
These words were flawless—they both defended Isabelle and displayed his own image as a magnanimous, tolerant philanthropist to perfection.
The surrounding guests and reporters nodded in agreement, praising Alfie endlessly.
"Mr. Kalyn has such grace."
"This is what a true philanthropist looks like. Isabelle is just unreasonable."
Isabelle stood there, watching Alfie's hypocritical, sanctimonious act, and an ice-cold mockery crossed her eyes.
She glanced at the cameras shoved in front of her and calmly asked the nearest reporter, "Are you livestreaming this?"
The reporter froze for a moment, then nodded reflexively. "Yes, live nationwide."
"Good." Isabelle's red lips parted slightly.
She walked around Alfie, faced the countless flashing cameras directly, and her cool voice rang out clearly in the noisy banquet hall. "Since this is a nationwide livestream, it's the perfect time to let everyone see the true face of this so-called Washington charity role model."