Hello, Father

Chapter 3: Hello, Father

The next morning, Eira stepped out of her room to find a sleek purple dress and a Birkin bag lying on the sofa in Callian's penthouse.

The dress was in a deep, rich colour that stood out against the minimalist decor of the place.

The penthouse itself was stunning, with high ceilings, floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city skyline, and sleek furniture that showed luxury.

It was huge, with separate rooms—one for each of them, of course. Even though they were married now, the arrangement was strictly business.

Callian leaned against the kitchen counter, and Eira saw his usual smirk back in place. "Try it on. It'll look perfect on you."

Eira raised an eyebrow. "Are you joking?"

He shrugged and muttered under his breath, "I'm not joking." Then louder, he said, "Just hurry up. We don't have all day."

Eira sighed and took the dress.

She retreated to her room and changed.

When she stepped out, Callian was in the middle of adjusting his cufflinks, but when he glanced up, his eyes widened, and he gaped for a moment.

"What?" Eira asked, catching his sudden and weird expression. "Is the dress too much?" She thought he was teasing her again and brushed it off.

"You've got that look on your face like you're about to crack a joke."

Callian blinked and then cleared his throat. "No, it's fine. You look… great. Let's just go."

Eira shook her head, thinking he was messing with her as usual. She grabbed the Birkin bag and followed him out the door.

They arrived at the auction, a high-end charity event held in a grand hall.

The place was drowning in wealthy people, and the atmosphere was quiet, almost too polished.

Callian, being Callian, moved through the crowd like he owned the place, his tall body and commanding presence started catching more than a few glances.

Eira stayed close to him.

She knew her father was here somewhere. This wasn't just any auction—it was one of the few events where Henry Blackwood would make a private appearance.

Extremely private, just like Callian. Both men hated the spotlight but were too powerful to avoid it entirely.

As they made their way to their seats, a woman with long blonde hair and sharp green eyes stepped into their path.

She looked at Callian, her lips suddenly curled into a smug smile.

"Well, well. Callian Reed," she said sarcastically. "What are you doing here? I thought you had no interest in me."

Callian's jaw hardened. "Leave me alone, Vanessa."

Vanessa scoffed and rolled her eyes, then turned her attention to Eira, giving her a once-over glare. "And who's this? Your new plaything?"

Eira narrowed her eyes. "Who is she?"

Before Callian could answer, he grabbed her arm lightly and steered her away. "Doesn't matter. Let's find our seats. Your father's here. You can greet your family later."

"What?"

"Nothing. Let's go."

Eira gave a glance back at Vanessa, who was watching, then looked forward as they reached their seats.

Across the room, sitting in one of the exclusive VIP rows, was Henry Blackwood, her father.

He hadn't seen her yet, but just being in the same room with him made her blood boil.

The auction began, and item after item went up for bidding.

Everything was quiet, save for the occasional raising of hands as the bids continued.

Callian seemed calm, leaning back in his chair, though Eira knew his eyes were watching everything.

Then, the auctioneer introduced the next item—a rare painting worth millions. That's when she noticed her father raising his hand to bid. Callian's eyes glanced at her, then back to the auctioneer.

Without warning, Callian raised his hand and placed a higher bid.

"One million."

Eira's heart skipped a beat as she watched her father's face tighten. He raised his hand again, increasing the bid.

"Two million."

Callian smirked and casually raised his hand once more, "Ten million."

The room grew tense.

Eira glanced at her father, who, despite his cold face, looked visibly irritated. He raised his hand again, bidding higher.

"Twenty million."

The number kept climbing, each time higher than the last. Neither Callian nor Henry was willing to back down.

"Fifty million," Callian said in a smooth voice, comfortable as if losing this money meant nothing to him.

Eira glanced at him. "Callian, what are you doing?"

He leaned in closer and whispered, "What does it look like? I'm not losing to him."

Henry's hand shot up. "Sixty million," his voice trembled across the room but not from stinginess, but anger and the audacity from Callian.

"Sixty-five million," Callian countered almost immediately, not even breaking a sweat.

The tension in the room was like a thick fog in the early morning somewhere in the mountains, eyes moved between the two men, both seeming too proud to back down.

Just when Eira thought the bidding would go on forever, a voice rang out, cutting through them all.

"Seventy million."

The room went silent…

Every eye turned toward Eira. She had spoken the words without thinking, but in a clear and strong voice. She could feel everyone looking at her, but she didn't flinch.

Callian blinked, looking at her in surprise, then chuckled softly under his breath. "Well, this just got interesting."

Henry Blackwood's face looked like someone had stabbed him multiple times in the chest. He stared at Eira, realising slowly and drowning in his thoughts.

He recognised her or was he hallucinating? Could it be? No!

The auctioneer looked between them all, clearly unsure of what to do next. But after a long pause, he nodded. "Seventy million going once… going twice… sold."

The hammer came down, and the room was covered in loud whispers.