Chapter 342
Thorn scanned the room, but Julian Ford was nowhere in sight. Did he not come after all? he thought, a wave of relief washing over him.
His relief was short-lived. He watched his uncle, Victor, confront Hazel, only for him and his cronies to be unceremoniously tossed out by security. Someone clamped a hand over Victor’s mouth before he could spew any more vitriol.
Eleanor’s eyes narrowed. “Hazel Noir,” she fumed silently, “let’s see you talk your way out of this next part. We have a special surprise for you. Enjoy your little victory while it lasts.”
But as half an hour ticked by, the entrance remained quiet. Eleanor’s smirk faltered. Where were the people she’d arranged to crash the party?
She discreetly sent her assistant to investigate. The assistant returned, shaking her head. The reporters and hired hecklers she had paid for were gone. “They had invitations,” she whispered, panicked. “How could they not get in?”
Across the room, Hazel met Eleanor’s frantic gaze with a knowing, unbothered calm.
Eleanor was starting to sweat. With her plan in shambles, the final auction item was presented.
“Next up,” the auctioneer announced, “we have a replica from Solara. Although it’s not the original, the artistry and exquisite detail are nearly identical, and it even features some newly added highlights, crafted by a well-known expert in the field of cultural relics. It’s valued at one million and has been donated as a charitable gift.”
“Next up," the auctioneer announced, "is an enamel vase. These pieces are exceedingly rare, originally crafted for the imperial court. Fewer than twenty are known to exist today. The bidding will start at three million dollars.”
At those words, the crowd immediately started bidding. Sienna looked up, her gaze lingering on the vase with extra interest.
“Eight million,” Eleanor declared, the price jumping significantly. She took a sip of her tea, shooting Hazel a look that dared her to follow.
Hazel had no interest in Eleanor’s childish games. She simply held up a special paddle, a silent declaration that she would automatically double the final highest bid, whatever it might be.
The room fell silent. The bidding was over.
Eleanor clenched her fists, fuming. "That damn Hazel. She did that on purpose.”
Just then, she saw Lana rush to Hazel’s side, her expression panicked. Eleanor’s anger was replaced by a surge of triumphant satisfaction. So, the reporters were a bust, she thought, but the main event is right on schedule.
As expected, after Lana whispered something in her ear, Hazel’s face darkened and she rose abruptly, heading for the exit.
A smug smile spread across Eleanor’s face. She glanced over to where Thorn had been sitting, only to find his seat empty as well.
Meanwhile, Thorn had followed his uncle, Victor, to a secluded villa. Peering through a window, his blood ran cold. His parents were on the floor, bound and gagged.
Thorn kicked the door open and stormed inside.
“What are you doing? You promised you wouldn’t hurt them! Are you insane?” He lunged toward his parents, but a bodyguard blocked his path.
“Get out of my way!” Thorn roared.
Chapter 342
Victor emerged from the shadows, unconcerned.
“Thorn, my boy, why so dramatic?” Victor said calmly. “I didn’t hurt them. I simply invited them for a chat, and they were… uncooperative. I had no choice.”
“Let them go! Now!” Thorn screamed. “What is this, Victor? What do you want?”
Victor just smirked and settled into a chair. “Isn’t it obvious, my dear nephew? Everything I’ve done… it’s all been for you. To make you the rightful heir of the Noir family. I’ve gone to such great lengths to help you, and this is the thanks I get? You’re breaking my heart.”
Thorn stared at him, the pieces clicking into place. “You don’t want to help me,” he said, his voice flat. “You want power.”
Victor let out a theatrical laugh, spreading his arms wide as he approached. “Thorn, I knew you weren’t a complete idiot. I didn’t raise you for nothing.”
Victor’s target had always been the entire Noir family.
He’d spent years carefully molding Thorn, turning him into a drug-addicted, spoiled, useless brat—a perfect puppet. He thought his moment had finally come, but then that bitch Hazel returned and ruined nineteen years of meticulous planning.