Chapter 756: Taming His Little Wild Cat

The underworld book? Damien looked at his personal secretary, asking, "What is it?"

"This underworld book has been here for two days and will be auctioned today. If you want to read it, I'll get it."

Damien frowned. He knew Joyce had many bold and crazy ideas; Olive and Levi were very similar. This time, she sought an underworld book—was it a martial arts manual? Did she want to become invincible?

"No need, I'll go see it now." Damien stood up and walked toward the auction room.

Joyce waited for Olive and Anabelle, but only the underworld book appeared. The host excitedly announced, "Next, we auction a treasure: the underworld book. Place your bids!"

Joyce's spirit soared. The book she'd awaited was finally here. Clearly, the auction house owners held little interest in this secret text. This was her chance. If no one else bid, she could acquire it cheaply.

Joyce immediately raised a sign: "70,000."

Seventy thousand was a high price. No one reacted; no one bid.

The host smiled. "Okay, 70,000. Going once, going twice…"

Joyce's lips curled. She greedily eyed the book, a treasure about to land in her lap.

Just as the host was about to finalize the sale, a deep voice resonated: "Seventy thousand and twenty dollars."

A bid! Who?

Joyce turned to see Damien, the familiar aristocrat, in the adjacent room. Damien!

The host, seeing Damien, nearly dropped the microphone. Damien owned the auction house; all the treasures belonged to him. The big boss wasn't in his office, but here at the auction!

He was playing a cruel joke. Joyce hadn't expected to fail, especially at Damien's hands. Hadn't she repaid him 1.4 billion dollars? Why was he still harassing her? He'd outbid her by twenty dollars—revenge for a paltry tip?

This prince of Imperial, supposedly noble, was, in her eyes, a miser seeking revenge!

Joyce raised her sign: "Eighty thousand."

Damien calmly countered: "Eighty thousand and twenty."

Joyce declared, "...One hundred thousand."

Damien responded: "One hundred thousand and twenty."

Fury clenched Joyce's teeth. She peered at Damien through the screen, her gaze intense.

Damien gracefully sipped his tea, unconvinced he couldn't control this wild cat.

"Sold! One hundred thousand and twenty dollars!" The auctioneer declared. The book belonged to Damien.

Though Joyce hated to lose, she knew Damien's wealth dwarfed hers. She couldn't compete.

Helplessly, she watched the staff present Damien with the book.

After the auction, Joyce rushed out, encountering Damien's luxury car. He was already inside, preparing to leave.

"Damien, wait!" Joyce called, running toward the car.

The limousine slowly stopped. The rear window slid down, revealing Damien's handsome face. His long legs were elegantly crossed; he tilted his head, his red phoenix eyes faintly glancing at her, revealing indifference and aloofness. "Something wrong?" he asked.

"Yes! Damien, give me that book!" Joyce demanded, extending her hand.

Damien saw her as a child reaching for candy. He held up the book. "You mean this?"

"Yes, give it to me!" Joyce reached for it.

Damien raised his hand, preventing her touch. He eyed the book with interest. "Why do you want this so much? I'm curious."

He started to open the exquisite packaging.

Joyce's pupils constricted. "Damien, don't! Don't look!"

His phone rang—a melodious chime. It was Mrs. Robert.

He glanced at Joyce, then answered. Mrs. Robert's frail voice wailed, "Damien, where are you? Come home. I'm miserable...an old woman alone...why did I have such an unfilial son? I don't even have a daughter-in-law! Miserable…"

Damien groaned inwardly. The old lady had started again.

"Mom, I…"

"I have a headache! Damien, come home!"

Mrs. Robert hung up.

Damien, in a foul mood, instructed the butler, "Let's go. Prepare the plane for Imperial."

"Yes, sir."

The limousine sped away.

Joyce exclaimed, "Hey, Damien!"

The car left her in its dust. "Damn!" she muttered. What did he mean? She had to get that book back!

Joyce rushed to the airport, determined to retrieve it in Imperial.

After Alpha disembarked and left the airport, he called Olive, wanting to see Anabelle immediately. But Olive didn't answer, texting instead, "Uncle Augustine, we'll be waiting at the Augustine family's old house."

Alpha reread the message. He hadn't been to the old house in years. A tragedy involving Bounty had devastated the family; they'd abandoned it long ago.

Yet Olive wanted him to return. A cold smile touched Alpha's lips. This girl was bold!