As the room turned to see where the bold voice had come from, they spotted a man dressed in simple attire. Doubt flickered in their eyes, wondering if they had misheard.
The arrogant woman glanced over and smirked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Do you really think you can afford that? Bidding at an auction isn’t a joke, you know.”
Lucas remained calm, meeting her gaze steadily. “I wouldn’t bid if I couldn’t pay,” he replied evenly.
The woman chuckled, her tone mocking. “You don’t look like someone who can back up such a bid.”
Their exchange continued, with the woman trying to belittle Lucas at every turn. Meanwhile, Greg watched nervously, thinking, ‘This woman has no idea who she’s up against,’ recalling Lucas’s casual dispatch of Romano.
On stage, Isabella addressed Lucas, reminding him, “The bid increments are set at one million dollars only. No more, no less.”
The arrogant woman laughed, raising the bid to six million. Lucas nodded, unfazed. “A bit dull,” he remarked, before declaring, “Raise by one million with each bid until no one else bids.”
The woman’s eyes widened in disbelief as the bidding war continued. She glared at Lucas, demanding, “Do you even have the money to pay for this?”
Lucas remained composed, replying, “Whether I can pay or not is none of your business.”
Isabella nodded from the stage, acknowledging Lucas’s bid. “The current bid stands at six million dollars,” she announced.
The arrogant woman quickly raised her paddle. “Seven million,” she declared with a confident smirk.
Lucas, unfazed, raised his hand. “Eight million,” he said calmly.
The woman, not to be outdone, immediately countered. “Nine million,” she shot back, her eyes narrowing.
Lucas remained composed, raising his paddle once more. “Ten million.”
The room buzzed with excitement as the bids climbed higher. The woman hesitated for a moment, biting her lip before raising her paddle again. “Eleven million,” she said, her voice tinged with frustration.
Lucas met her gaze, his expression steady. “Twelve million,” he declared, his voice unwavering.
The woman paused, her confidence waning as she considered her next move. She glanced around the room, realizing the attention was now focused on her decision. Her mind raced, ‘If I keep going, I might end up with a bid I can’t cover. I need to be smart about this.’
Reluctantly, she lowered her paddle, deciding to let Lucas have the tea. Her focus shifted to the ring, the item she truly desired.
Isabella smiled warmly as she gestured towards Lucas. “Congratulations to our winning bidder, Mr.,” she paused, not knowing his name, “for securing the exquisite tea at twelve million dollars.”
The room erupted in applause, with several attendees offering their congratulations to Lucas. He nodded in acknowledgment, maintaining his calm demeanor amidst the attention.
As the applause subsided, Isabella gracefully moved across the stage, signaling for the final item to be brought forward. The anticipation in the room was palpable as the stunning diamond ring was unveiled.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Isabella began, her voice filled with enthusiasm, “our final item of the evening is this magnificent diamond ring, crafted by the legendary jeweler, Alistair Voss. This piece is not only a testament to his unparalleled skill but also holds a special place in his legacy.”
The audience leaned forward, captivated by the ring’s brilliance. The arrogant woman’s eyes sparkled with excitement, her determination to win the ring evident in her expression. She swallowed hard, bracing herself for the bidding war to come.
Isabella, noticing the eager faces before her, smiled and announced, “The starting price for this extraordinary ring is one hundred million dollars, with bid increments of no less than ten million.”
The room buzzed with energy as the bidding began. Paddles shot up, and voices called out their bids.
“One hundred ten million,” a voice declared from the back.
“One hundred twenty million,” another bidder quickly followed.
Isabella kept pace with the flurry of bids, her voice clear and steady. “The current bid is one hundred twenty million.”
“One hundred thirty million,” came another bid, the tension in the room rising.
“One hundred forty million,” a determined bidder added, raising the stakes.
Isabella announced each new bid, her excitement matching that of the crowd. “We are now at one hundred forty million.”
The bidding war raged on, with numbers climbing higher and higher. “One hundred fifty million,” a voice called out, followed by another, “One hundred sixty million.”
The room was alive with excitement as the bids continued to soar. “One hundred seventy million,” “One hundred eighty million,” “One hundred ninety million,” the numbers echoed through the hall.
Finally, the bid reached two hundred million, and the arrogant woman, her eyes gleaming with determination, raised her paddle. “Two hundred fifty million,” she declared, her voice firm.
The competition was fierce, with other bidders refusing to back down. “Two hundred sixty million,” one shouted, followed by another, “Two hundred seventy million.”
The woman gritted her teeth, refusing to be outdone. “Two hundred eighty million,” she countered, her resolve unwavering.
The bidding continued, reaching a fever pitch as it climbed to three hundred million. Some bidders, overwhelmed by the escalating prices, began to drop out, leaving only the most determined in the race.
At three hundred twenty million, the arrogant woman found herself as the last bidder standing, her breath coming in quick gasps as she realized no one else was challenging her. In her mind, she began to imagine the ring on her finger, envisioning the envious glances it would draw at every gala and event. She pictured herself flaunting it, the centerpiece of her collection, a symbol of her triumph and status.
Isabella, standing on stage, began the countdown, her voice steady and clear. “Going once, going twice, at three hundred twenty million…”
Just as she was about to conclude, Lucas’s voice cut through the air with a calm yet commanding presence. “Four hundred million.”
The room fell silent, the audacity of the bid leaving everyone in shock. The woman’s daydream shattered instantly, her fantasies of the ring slipping away as reality set in. She turned to Lucas, her expression a mix of disbelief and anger, her earlier confidence now replaced with frustration.
Isabella, regaining her composure, addressed the room with a hint of awe in her voice. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a new bid at four hundred million dollars. Do we have any further bids?”
The room fell silent, every eye turning to Lucas in shock. The woman’s dreams of the ring on her finger shattered as she processed the staggering bid. She turned to Lucas, her movements stiff and mechanical, her eyes filled with anger. She clenched her jaw, determined to make one final stand. Raising her paddle, she declared, “Four hundred thirty million,” while thinking to herself, ‘This is my absolute limit.’
She looked at Lucas, her voice edged with warning. “If you raise it any further, it’s too much.”
Lucas smiled, nodding slightly. “Yes, it is quite a lot.”
The woman allowed herself a small smile, believing she had finally won. But her relief was short-lived as Lucas continued, “It is a lot, but,” he paused, his smile widening, “not for me.”
“Five hundred million,” Lucas declared, his voice calm and confident.