Chapter 23 – Unexpected Generosity, Anticipated Conflict
I stepped into Damien Sterling’s conference room, my heart pounding against my ribs. The sleek, minimalist space felt too large and too small at the same time, with floor–to–ceiling windows offering a dizzying view of the city below.
“Please, sit down,” Damien said, gesturing to the chair across from him. The stern commander I’d glimpsed moments ago had vanished completely, replaced by the polished, attentive man I remembered.
“Thank you for seeing me, I managed, lowering myself into the chair and setting my purse beside me. My fingers trembled slightly, and I clasped them together in my lap to hide it.
Damien studied me with those intense dark eyes. “Butler Winslow mentioned you had an urgent matter to discuss. Something about clothing designs?”
I felt heat climb into my cheeks. “That… wasn’t entirely truthful.”
A hint of amusement flickered across his face. “I suspected as much.”
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out. “I didn’t know how else to get this meeting.”
“You have it now,” he said simply. “Tell me what you need, Hazel.”
The way he said my name–so directly, so personally–made my stomach flutter. I took a deep breath and decided to be equally direct.
“I need to borrow money. A significant amount.”
If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. “May I ask what for?”
I explained about my mother’s jade bracelet, about the auction in Shanghai, about the hundred million yuan needed to have any chance of winning it. The words tumbled out faster than I intended, my desperation evident in every syllable.
“It’s the only thing of hers I might ever get back,” I finished, my voice catching. “My father took everything else when she died.”
Damien leaned back slightly, his expression thoughtful. “And you need this by when?”
“The auction is tomorrow evening.”
He nodded, then picked up his phone. “Arthur, please come in.”
The door opened almost immediately, and Mr. Kendall appeared.
“Arthur, Miss Ashworth requires fifty million dollars as soon as possible. Please arrange the
transfer.”
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My mouth fell open. “F–fifty million dollars? But that’s—”
*Approximately one hundred million yuan at current exchange rates,” Damien finished for me.
“Will that be sufficient?”
I stared at him, unable to process what was happening. “Just like that? You’ll lend me fifty million dollars just like that?”
“Yes.”
“But… don’t you need collateral? Or a contract? Or—”
“Do you intend to repay the money?” Damien asked calmly.
“Of course I do!” I said, almost offended by the question. “Every penny. I’ve built a successful business before, and I’ll do it again. It might take time, but-”
He held up a hand, stopping my rambling. “Then we have an understanding. I trust you, Hazel
Ashworth.”
Those four simple words hit me like a physical force. I trust you. When was the last time
someone had said that to me and meant it?
Mr. Kendall cleared his throat. “Miss Ashworth, if you’ll provide your banking details, I can arrange for the transfer immediately.”
I fumbled with my phone, pulling up my account information. The transaction was completed in minutes–fifty million dollars flowing into my account as casually as if I’d asked for fifty dollars.
“I… My voice failed me. I blinked rapidly, fighting back unexpected tears. “I don’t know what to
say.”
“Good luck at the auction,” Damien said simply. “That bracelet clearly means a great deal to you.”
“Why?” I finally managed. “Why would you do this for me?”
Something shifted in his eyes–a flash of emotion so brief I couldn’t name it before it was gone.
“Let’s just say I understand what it’s like to want something returned to its rightful owner.”
There was history in those words, a story he wasn’t telling. But before I could ask more, Mr. Kendall touched my elbow gently.
“Miss Ashworth, I’ll escort you out when you’re ready.”
I rose from my chair, still dazed. “Thank you, Mr. Sterling. I don’t know how to express my gratitude.
“Win your auction, he replied. “That will be thanks enough.”
As I walked toward the door, I paused, turning back. “May I ask one more question?”
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A slight smile curved his lips. “Of course.”
“How did you know I’d need fifty million and not a hundred?”
The smile widened fractionally. “You strike me as someone who always keeps something in
reserve.”
With that cryptic statement echoing in my mind, I left his office, fifty million dollars richer and more confused than ever about the enigma that was Damien Sterling.
***
Twenty–four hours later, I was in Shanghai, running on adrenaline and barely two hours of sleep. The auction house was housed in a historic building with ornate columns and crystal chandeliers–a testament to old money and refined taste.
I’d arrived early to register as a bidder, presenting identification and proof of funds. The auction employee had raised an eyebrow at my bank statement but processed my paddle number
without comment.
Now I sat in the auction room, my paddle clutched in sweaty fingers as I flipped through the catalog. My mother’s jade bracelet was lot number 37–a beautiful piece from the Qing dynasty carved from the finest imperial jade, depicting intertwined dragons and phoenixes symbolizing harmonious marriage.
The irony wasn’t lost on me. This bracelet represented a marriage that had been anything but
harmonious.
I was examining a photo of the bracelet when a commotion near the door drew my attention. My blood ran cold as I recognized the voice that cut through the elegant murmurs of the crowd.
“Careful! Mind the wheelchair!”
Julian’s commanding tone hadn’t changed. I turned slowly, hoping I was wrong, but there they were–Julian Grayson pushing Ivy in a wheelchair, her thin frame draped in a cashmere blanket despite the room’s comfortable temperature.
My first instinct was to duck down, to hide, but I forced myself to sit straight. This was my moment, my mother’s bracelet. I wouldn’t cower.
Their eyes found me almost immediately. Ivy’s face registered shock–poorly feigned, I noted- while Julian’s expression tightened into something unreadable.
I watched as he wheeled her down the center aisle, stopping just two rows in front of me. Perfect. Now I’d have to stare at the back of their heads throughout the entire auction.
Ivy turned in her wheelchair, her face arranged in a picture of fragile surprise.
“Hazel? Is that you?” she called out, her voice delicate but carrying just far enough to turn
heads.
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I fought to keep my expression neutral. “Hello, Ivy. Julian.”
Julian nodded stiffly. “Hazel. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Clearly,” I replied. “What brings you to an auction in Shanghai? Business or pleasure?”
Ivy smiled that saccharine smile I knew too well. “Julian wanted to distract me from… everything. The treatments have been so difficult lately.”
I noticed how she touched her head self–consciously, drawing attention to her thinning hair. Always the performance.
“How thoughtful,” I said, not bothering to mask my sarcasm. “And you just happened to choose this particular auction?”
“Is there something special about it?” Julian asked, his brow furrowing in apparent confusion.
I stared at him, trying to determine if he was truly ignorant or playing a game. “I’m here for a specific item. A jade bracelet from the Qing dynasty. Lot 37.”
Ivy’s eyes widened, and for a second, genuine surprise flickered across her face. But it quickly morphed into something calculated.
“Oh, is that the one with the dragons and phoenixes? I saw it in the catalog and thought it was stunning. But Julian, we’re not here for that, are we?”
Julian shook his head. “No, we’re just browsing. Maybe a painting for the den.”
Liar. I didn’t believe him for a second. They were here for my bracelet–maybe not initially, but now that Ivy knew I wanted it, she would want it too. It was her pattern since childhood: whatever I valued, she coveted.
The auctioneer called for everyone to take their seats, and Julian wheeled Ivy back around. I stared daggers at the back of their heads, my palm sweaty around the auction paddle.
I’d come too far to lose now. With Damien’s loan, I finally had a fighting chance. But as the auction began and the first lots went by in a blur of numbers and raised paddles, I couldn’t shake a gnawing worry.
What if Julian was truly here to bid on art? What if he recognized the bracelet when it came up for bid? What if Ivy, despite her apparent surprise, had somehow known all along what I was after?
Julian was wealthy, but could he outbid me with fifty million at my disposal?
The auctioneer’s voice droned on as we moved through the lots. “Lot 35, a Ming dynasty porcelain vase with cobalt blue glaze… Lot 36, a collection of Song dynasty scrolls…”
My heart thumped painfully. We were getting closer. I gripped my paddle tighter, my other hand curled protectively around my bag as if I could already feel the weight of my mother’s bracelet
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inside it.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, Lot 37. An exceptional imperial jade bracelet from the early Qing dynasty…”
I held my breath as an assistant carried the bracelet to the display stand. My mother’s bracelet. So close I could almost touch it.
In front of me, Ivy leaned over to whisper something in Julian’s ear. He nodded, then straightened in his seat.
“We’ll start the bidding at ten million yuan,” the auctioneer announced. “Do I hear ten million?”
I raised my paddle without hesitation.
“Ten million from paddle number 42. Do I hear twelve million?”
Another paddle went up across the room.
“Twelve million from paddle number 19. Do I hear fifteen?”
I raised my paddle again.
The bidding climbed steadily–fifteen, eighteen, twenty million. I kept pace, my confidence growing with each bid. The other bidders were dropping out one by one.
At thirty million, only one other bidder remained, an older gentleman in the back corner.
“Thirty–five million?” the auctioneer prompted.
I nodded, raising my paddle.
“Thirty–five million from paddle number 42. Do I hear forty million?”
The older gentleman shook his head, and for a moment, I felt a surge of victory.
Then Julian’s paddle went up.
“Forty million from paddle number 27,” the auctioneer called, unable to hide his excitement at the late entry. “Do I hear forty–five?”
Julian hadn’t even turned around. He knew exactly what he was doing.
Ivy had twisted in her seat, watching me with barely concealed triumph in her eyes.
The bracelet that had belonged to my mother–the bracelet that should be mine–hung in the balance between us once again.
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