Again Valentina’s fingers tightened around Raymond’s wrist.
Her voice was barely a whisper, but the urgency in her tone was unmistakable.
"Raymond... I don’t have any money to help you right now."
Her chest rose and fell rapidly, panic creeping into her voice.
"What you just did—it’s a very, very big offense. Do you realize that? We can’t get away from this."
Her eyes darted across the room.
The auction boss. Dorian Lancaster. The countless gazes drilling into them.
They were like hungry wolves, waiting for Raymond to be devoured.
Her breath hitched even more see the. situation.
"If you had just listened to from the beginning, none of this would have happened."
At that mont She swallowed, frustration and anxiety twisting in her stomach.
"We could have been at ho by now."
But Raymond—he just laughed.
Laughed.
Like none of this mattered.
Like he wasn’t standing on the edge of a bottomless pit.
"You worry too much my dear," he said, his voice light and calm, almost teasing.
Then, with a lazy stretch of his shoulders, he added,
"I just ca here to claim your mother’s necklace."
Without another word, Raymond took a step forward.
And then another, and another.
He walked past Damien without a glance.
Damien’s smirk widened.
His arms crossed. His shoulders shook with suppressed laughter.
"The bastard is finally walking to his own disgrace," he muttered under his breath.
His eyes glead with cruel amusent.
"Let’s see how he’s going to pay now."
The room humd with restless energy.
Curiosity. Anticipation.
They all wanted to see it, see him fail.
The auditioner’s hands trembled slightly as he adjusted his papers.
His gaze flickered between Raymond and the crowd.
If—sohow—Raymond managed to pay, it would be a statent.
A bold, impossible statent.
The kind that would spread like wildfire.
The kind that would humiliate the J-12.
But deep down, the auditioner knew—that wouldn’t happen.
Because no one—no one—believed that Raymond could pay for that necklace.
The room buzzed with anticipation as Raymond reached the paynt area.
A sleek, black machine was carefully placed on the table—a high-security device used only for transactions of this magnitude.
The boss of the auction house stood silently behind it, his posture rigid yet composed.
However he didn’t say a word to Raymond.
But his gaze held sothing strange. Sothing that looked almost... respectful.
Raymond didn’t flinch, Didn’t hesitate.
From his pocket, he pulled out a card.
A single, red Mastercard.
Just red. Nothing else. No na.No numbers.
No insignia, Just a blank red card.
The mont it touched the air—the hall erupted.
Laughter, Scoffs. Snorts of disbelief.
The sound rippled across the crowd like a wave.
"What the hell is that?" soone sneered.
"A playing card?" another mocked.
"Is this another trick? Does he really think we’re that stupid?"
They laughed. And laughed.
Even Damien’s smirk stretched wider.
His arms crossed over his chest, his eyes glinting with amusent.
"Unbelievable," he muttered, shaking his head.
He felt embarrassed for even considering Raymond a threat.
For thinking—even for a second—that he should take this man seriously.
At that mont Dorian Lancaster leaned back in his seat, arms draped lazily over the armrests.
Then a half-smile tugged at his lips.
"How disappointing."
His voice was calm, indifferent—mocking.
"I actually thought you had sothing up your sleeve."
The room continued to crackle with laughter.
The laughter in the hall rose to a deafening level, echoing from every corner.
At that mont Damien wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, shaking his head as he turned to Valentina.
"This... this is the man you call your husband?" he scoffed, his voice dripping with amusent.
He took a step forward, sneering.
"A coward. An imbecile. A fraud."
He gestured toward Raymond with exaggerated disgust.
"Look at him, standing there with that ridiculous card, thinking he could actually fool us. Fool you."
His voice grew even more louder, his confidence swelling with each word.
"You chose this good-for-nothing over ?"
He let out another chuckle, filled with mockery.
"Pathetic."
The crowd egged him on, murmuring in agreent, the tension thick with judgnt.
But then—a voice cut through the noise.
Firm. Cold. Unwavering.
"Shut your mouth, Damien."
Silence followed .
The amusent in Damien’s face faltered as he turned back to Valentina.
Her eyes burned with sothing fierce. Unyielding.
"Even if my husband doesn’t get the necklace," she said, her voice steady, "even if he lands himself in trouble, I will stand beside him and face it together."
She took a step closer, her eyes locking onto Damien’s with a level of disgust that made his smirk waver.
"But you?" She tilted her head, her expression cold. "You disgust ."
Imdiately a hush swept through the room.
Damien’s throat tightened, his breath catching for a mont.
Her words hit him harder than he expected.
Before anyone could react further—
A soft beep filled the air.
The boss of the organization glanced down at the machine.
Then, without looking up, he spoke.
"Paynt successful."
The words landed like a bombshell.
A collective gasp rippled through the hall.
Every pair of eyes snapped to the paynt terminal.
The screen displayed a single, irrefutable confirmation.
Transaction Approved.
The room felt like it had been frozen in ti. No one moved. No one spoke.
Every single gaze was locked on the paynt terminal, the bright confirmation screen glaring back at them.
A stunned silence spread through the hall like a slow-burning wildfire.
Jaws slackened. Eyes widened. Bodies stiffened.
It was as if soone had yanked the air out of the room, leaving only the sound of shallow, disbelieving breaths.
Damien’s face, once twisted in amusent, was now blank. His lips parted slightly, but no words ca out.
He swallowed—hard.
"What...?" His voice barely escaped, sounding foreign even to himself.
The crowd began to shift, whispers breaking through the silence like cracks in glass.
"Wait, what just happened?"
"Did... did he actually pay?"
"That can’t be right."
At that mont Dorian Lancaster, who had been composed all evening, slowly turned his head toward Raymond.
His eyes, once filled with arrogance, were now shadowed with sothing close to doubt.
Even the boss of the auction, who had announced the confirmation, blinked as if he himself hadn’t expected it.
Valentina...
She gripped the edge of her dress, her breath uneven.
Her mind spun in circles, trying to grasp what had just unfolded before her.
40 million.
The number repeated in her head, a drumbeat against her thoughts.
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