The Auction (2)

The limo pulled up to the auction house, and Richard and Rachel stepped out. Just as they did, a sleek black car parked in front of theirs, and Derek emerged, his eyes immediately locking onto them.

A smirk played on his lips as he looked at Richard.

"Richard, can you go in first? I'll meet you later," Rachel said, her voice bubbling.

Rachel's eyes flickered with a mixture of concern and understanding. "Yes," she replied softly, and she walked ahead.

Richard clenched his fists, frustration boiling inside him. He turned to his driver, Lugard. "Join me," he instructed.

Lugard nodded, got out of the car, locked it, and followed Richard inside, leaving Rachel and Derek alone.

As soon as Richard was out of sight, Derek strode toward Rachel, ready to confront her. But Rachel, maintaining her composure, simply turned and walked away, leaving Derek fuming.

"Is she ignoring me?" Derek muttered to himself. His anger simmered as he thought about the signed deal with her parents.

"Just you wait. Soon, you'll no longer be an heiress. You will have nothing to inherit." With that sinister thought, he walked into the auction house.

Meanwhile, Rachel found a secluded spot, away from prying eyes. She was grateful that Richard had taken the driver with him, leaving her some privacy.

She took out her phone and made a call, her voice low and urgent. "We are here, finally, at the auction house. Remember our deal. If that dress is bought for one billion, you owe me."

On the other end, a feminine voice replied, "You've got a deal, Mrs. Richard Floyd."

Rachel smiled, ending the call, and walked with confidence toward the auction house.

She entered the grand hall, her eyes scanning the crowd. The air was thick with anticipation, and the room buzzed with the chatter of wealthy patrons eager to outbid each other.

Richard was already seated in the front row, his gaze fixed on the stage. He noticed Rachel approaching and gestured for her to join him.

She took her seat beside him, her demeanor calm and composed.

The auctioneer took the stage, and the room fell silent. Item after item was presented, each fetching astronomical sums.

Finally, the moment Rachel had been waiting for arrived. The dress—an exquisite sea blue and green creation—was brought onto the stage.

The auctioneer's voice rang out. "We will start the bidding at 20 million."

Rachel leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the dress. She raised her paddle immediately. "20 million."

Another bidder quickly countered. "25 million."

Rachel's heart raced as the numbers climbed higher. "50 million," she called out.

"100 million," another voice chimed in.

Rachel glanced at Richard, who nodded, encouraging her. He was going to buy this dress for her.

"300 million," she bid.

Huh? Everyone grasped, surprised.

The room was electric with tension as the price continued to soar. "500 million," came another bid.

Rachel took a deep breath. She smiled confidently, watching Derek with side eye. "600 million."

There was a hush as the crowd waited to see if anyone would counter.

Derek, watching from the back of the room, smirked and raised his paddle. "700 million."

Rachel's jaw tightened, but she remained composed. '700 million all for Lucinda?' She looked at Richard, who gave her a reassuring nod.

She raised her paddle once more. "800 million."

Derek, determined to win, immediately countered. "850 million."

Rachel's eyes flashed with determination. "990 million." She was damn exited.

The auctioneer looked around the room. "800 million, going once... going twice..."

Derek hesitated, his hand twitching toward his paddle, but he ultimately raised it, not conceding defeat. "1 billion."

Richard then made eye contact with Rachel, expecting her to raise her paddle. He'd pay 50 billion for it! But Rachel didn't.

Well, he'd do it himself!

He was about raising the paddle when Rachel held his hand down without course, her eyes on Derek.

Really now?!

The auctioneer looked around the room again. "1 billion, going once... going twice…"

"Sold! To Mr. Derek Floyd for 1 billion!"

Rachel's heart soared with victory even though she didn't get the dress. She glanced at Richard, who glared at her, shame and irritation evident in his eyes.

As the auction continued, Rachel couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. She had played her part perfectly, keeping Derek at bay and securing the dress.

Now, she just had to see through the rest of her plan.

After the auction, Richard and Rachel returned to their mansion. As soon as they walked through the door, Richard's frustration boiled over.

"Rachel, what did you take me for? Do you think I'm not capable of buying that dress for you?" he said, his voice rising with each word.

"I literally wanted to get that dress for you. But you let Derek—your man-friend, or what should I call him—just take it. Why didn't you let me get the dress?"

Rachel, taken aback by the intensity of his outburst, tried to remain calm. "What are you talking about? Just let him get the dress."

Richard's face turned red with anger.

"I can't stand this anymore. If you want to be with Derek, then go to Derek. Give me the divorce papers, okay? You don't want me to get you the dress? You think I can't afford it or am just not the perfect candidate to get you that dress?" He rambled on, his words a mix of hurt and frustration.

Rachel stepped closer, her eyes filled with determination. "Fine, since you want to know, I'll tell you. I texted J Emory yesterday. I offered that I'm going to make this dress, which is worth $20 million, be bought for $1 billion."

Richard stared at her, his confusion evident. "So now I and my nephew aren't enough? You have to involve some other man?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "J Emory is not a man. She's a woman."

Richard blinked, processing the information. "How come you know that?"

Rachel sighed. "I have her number. We just spoke. All I had to do was make sure her dress was bought for $1 billion, and then our deal could work out."

"I didn't want you to waste such an amount of money on it. It's not really worth it. You can buy me something better later, or you can pay Jay Emery to make a better dress."

Richard looked at her, suspicion still clouding his eyes. "Are you trying to cover up something because you think you're smart and you think I'm dumb?"

Rachel shook her head, frustration creeping into her voice. "No, that's not the case. The case is—fine, I'll tell you. This is all I can tell you for now. I just need Jay Emery to be on my side. If you don't believe me, then maybe we should get that divorce."

Richard stood up abruptly, his face a mask of rage. "Where are you going?" he yelled.

Rachel grabbed her bag, her expression resolute. "I'm going to get a cab."

And with that, she walked out the door, leaving Richard standing alone in their mansion, his emotions a chaotic storm of confusion and anger.

As she walked down the driveway, Rachel's mind raced. She needed to stay focused.

There was too much at stake to let emotions cloud her judgment. She hailed a cab and slipped inside, her thoughts already on her next move.

Rachel knew that to win this game, she had to be two steps ahead of everyone—including Richard.

Meanwhile, Richard seethed with anger, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. His secretary entered the room cautiously, sensing the tension in the air.

"You need to calm down, Richard," the secretary urged, his voice laced with concern. "You can't let this get to you. Remember your health a..and your s..seizures."

Richard's jaw tightened as he fought to contain his emotions. "I can't control it," he muttered, his voice strained. "Take me somewhere else, away from here."