Chapter 108 Countdown
❦ Rosalind ❦
I wiped my damp palms on the skirt of my dress, bitterly marveling at how much water a human body could lose without fainting.
I pushed away from the desk and crossed the room to close the windows, though the garden outside was still, with no noise to interrupt me. I was just desperate for something to do with my hands.
The closed glass and dim light gave me the illusion of privacy. And I needed that.
I needed it to fix my mistake and get back what I foolishly put up for grabs.
The glowing countdown on my laptop pulsed like a heartbeat, like a frigging bomb.
Thirty minutes to auction.
Dante had texted earlier, attempting to sooth me with calm words.
His instructions were straight and tactical—wait for the right moment, enter the bid fast, top every offer with an extra five million. Simple.
He made it sound like a simple game. I prayed it would work.
My gaze slid to the silver flash drive by my laptop. The metal caught the faint light, taunting me like an omen I was bent on ignoring. I groaned under my breath and shoved it into the drawer. Out of sight, out of mind.
Later. I would deal with it later.
Twenty minutes to auction.
If I sweated any more than this, I’d shrivel up like a prune. And maybe I deserved it for putting my father’s pride and joy on the chopping block, for deciding to sell off something he’d bled for and willed to me. Stupid.
A sharp knock shattered the fragile silence.
I jolted, my knees banged against the underside of the desk, pain shooting up my thighs in waves.
“Shit,” I hissed, pressing a palm against the sting, and staggered up.
It was probably Enza. She should be bringing early dinner around now, fussing over me after my recent kidnapping.
I had to admit that I enjoyed the attention though.
But when I opened the door, the tray balanced in waiting hands, that didn’t belong to Enza.
Veiny and buff, I licked my lips on cue.
Viktor stood there, smiling so wide and so bright that it looked almost innocent. Which immediately meant he was up to something.
“I brought food,” he said cheerily. “Would you mind sharing?”
My stomach clenched at the sight of him. Too big for the doorway, too familiar, too dangerous.
I shifted the tray against my hip, using my body to wedge the door.
“No, sorry,” I said quickly, summoning what I hoped passed as casual dismissal. “I’m studying right now.”
He leaned in, his eyes glittering with mischief. “I won’t disturb you. I’ll be as quiet as a mouse. I promise.”
A groan strangled my throat.
God, how much time had passed? Fifteen minutes? Ten? My pulse was louder than the clock in my head. I couldn’t afford this distraction right now.
“I’ll be right down when I’m done,” I told him firmly.
He pouted. Actually pouted. Like a child denied candy.
“Are you sure?” His head tilted, looking past me to peer into the room.
The tray wobbled precariously in my hands as I lurched forward, blocking him with my whole body.
“Later!” I squeaked.
And before he could push further, I slammed the door shut with my hip, my heart racing. I couldn’t afford to have him enter and see the auction website blaring on my screen.
I couldn’t imagine how that would end.
Viktor was acting like a man possessed, hellbent on smothering me with tenderness as if it could erase the fact that he hadn’t been there when I needed him most.
I smiled at his effort and the ridiculous pout he’d given me outside the door. But the smile soured just as quickly. He was too late with his sudden caring act.
I pushed him out of my mind and set the tray on the far edge of the table. One glance at the laptop made my pulse spike.
Ten minutes.
The countdown timer glowed on the screen mercilessly. Each second falling away too fast.
My phone buzzed. I picked it up to see a text from Dante.
Dante: Still on seat?
I typed back a curt confirmation, my hands resuming their sweating spree.
The tray of food tempted me with a distraction. I lifted the silver covering and pinched a pastry, cramming it into my mouth even though my stomach felt too knotted to accept it.
The sweetness turned ashy on my tongue, but chewing gave me something to do.
I sat straighter in my chair, squaring my shoulders the way I imagined my father once had when he made impossible choices. My eyes locked on the glowing screen.
I read the lot description again, and again, as if memorizing the words would give me strength: Grand Marlow Hotel, Midtown New York – Exclusive Property Rights.
Dante’s voice echoed in my head. Watch the increments. Wait for the lull. Then strike. Five million plus.
The timer ticked down, the digits blurring until I succumbed and blinked to clear my vision—00:29.
I wiped my hands once more on my dress, pressing against the fabric, wishing it could soak up all my nerves, then I positioned them on either side of the laptop.
00:03. 00:02. 00:01.
Zero.
The page exploded into motion. Numbers flew at me, climbing higher and higher by the second.
Bidder 1023 – $310,000,000.
Bidder 2089 – $340,000,000.
Each line of bidders appeared with a flash, punctuated with a chime. My breath caught in my throat.
The sheer volume of them, vultures circling and fighting for my father’s legacy… It made me sick.
But then the nerves steadied into focus. I steeled myself. It was now or never.
I had liquidated seven hundred million. That was twice the amount that they were flaunting and offering right now. They didn’t know who they were playing against. I would have the last laugh.
My grin tasted feral as I waited, waited… then struck. Fingers flying, I added five million to the last offer.
$365,000,000.
The box flared green: YOU ARE THE HIGHEST BIDDER
I grinned.