Chapter 1
**The Child Must Go** Late at night. The bathroom glass fogged up, softening the outline of a tall figure standing beneath the cascade of water. Eleanor Gaines tiptoed, bare feet silent against the cool tile, as she pulled open the glass door. The sound of rushing water swallowed her footsteps. As she slipped out of her robe, she crept up behind the man, wrapping her arms around him. In an instant, her wrist was caught in a firm grip, spinning her around and slamming her back against the cold, wet wall. His intense gaze bore into her. “Robert, what do you think you’re doing?” Robert Luther scowled, clearly displeased. “Robert, it’s been so long since you’ve been home…” The steam enveloped Eleanor, making her head spin and her cheeks flush hot. Although they had been married for two years, Robert’s presence in her life was scant. He’d been gone for two months this time, and Eleanor knew she had to seize this moment. Biting her lip, she looked up at him. The murky outlines of his sharp features softened in the steam, and in those deep-set eyes, a flicker of warmth broke through his cold demeanor—an undercurrent of longing that pulled her in. Before she could process her next thought, his lips crashed down on hers. The intoxicating scent of soap mixed with raw desire flooded her senses. That night, Eleanor would pay dearly for her boldness. The next morning, Eleanor stirred awake, her body aching. “Ugh…” “Awake already?” Eleanor turned to see Robert, dressed in a crisp white shirt, his back turned to her as the morning light pooled around him. The shirt hugged his athletic frame, sculpting the silhouette of a man who had everything—success and looks. At such a young age, he was already Vice President at Elderton Enterprises, boasting the kind of attributes that had captivated Eleanor for eight long years. “The pills are on the nightstand. Don’t forget to take them,” he said dismissively, as he fastened each button. “Ah.” Eleanor blinked, startled, her gaze landing on a small box of contraceptives. She licked her lips, her voice hoarse. “Robert, last weekend I visited my grandfather. He really hopes we can have a baby, I feel—” “You want a child?” He turned to her, and the morning light caught his icy expression, making him seem even more imposing. “Yeah, we’ve been married for two years. Don’t you think it’s time? When you’re not around, a child could keep me company,” Eleanor explained earnestly. “I strongly advise you to drop that idea.” His words were quick, cutting through her hopes without thought. He adjusted his cufflinks and reached for his tailored jacket. "Take your pills. I don't want to deal with unnecessary issues.” Unnecessary issues. It wasn’t until the door clicked shut behind him that Eleanor felt the weight of his words settle in. With a heavy heart, she collapsed back into the sheets. Deep down, she knew the real issue wasn’t the child; it was the wall Robert had built between them. Staring at the ceiling, she rubbed her temples, trying to suppress the headache brewing in her mind. --- Two months later. Eleanor finally held the pregnancy test results, stepping out of the clinic. The bustling sounds around her suddenly shattered as two men in black cornered her, gripping her arms, muffling her screams. “Mm…mmpf!” She was thrust into a sterile exam room, the fading sunlight casting long shadows across the floor, revealing a dark figure. Isabella Jenkins stood against the light, her made-up face curling into a smug smirk. “Well, look who we have here.” Eleanor’s heart raced. “You…how did you find me?” Isabella Jenkins, the first wife of Henry Luther and Robert’s biological mother, had never hidden her disdain for Eleanor. With years of being coldly judged, Eleanor had learned to endure Isabella’s barbed comments, but today felt different, the tension palpable. Eleanor instinctively clutched the results, but before she could hide them, one of the men in black snatched the paper from her grasp and handed it to Isabella. “Give that back!” Eleanor lunged for it, but the other man tightened his grip on her shoulders, pinning her down. Isabella eyed the results with cruel satisfaction, an icy gleam in her voice. “Well, well, look who’s pregnant.” Eleanor and Robert had kept their marriage under wraps for two years, and now, as family secrets began to unravel, Isabella’s smirk grew wider—grandpa lay in critical condition, the inheritance hanging in the balance. “Don’t you dare keep that child.” With a single look, Isabella signaled her henchmen. One man held Eleanor down as the other pulled out a vial of pills. He grasped her chin, prying her mouth open. “No…stop…” Fear turned her stomach as she fought to resist, pressing her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Mmm…!” It was her baby; no one was going to take it away from her. Not when her grandpa was still fighting for life, waiting to hear good news. “Useless! Feed it to her,” Isabella barked, her voice sharp. Eleanor fought tooth and nail, tears streaming down her cheeks, blurring her vision. Please, don’t hurt my baby. Desperation clawed at her insides as she instinctively swallowed the lingering bitterness of the pill, heart racing as she choked. Once free, she fell to the floor, fingers digging into her throat. “Gag… cough…” A burning paper drifted down beside her—her test results. Isabella loomed over, her elongated figure casting a shadow of disdain. “And what makes you think you’re worthy of carrying a Luther?” “Isabella Jenkins.” Eleanor lost it, charging at her, only to be restrained once more. “Don’t you touch my child,” she shouted, voice raw. “If anything happens to it, I swear I’ll make you pay. Robert will, too.” “Oh, I’m so scared,” Isabella cackled mockingly, unfazed. “But Robert Luther wouldn’t dare choose you over me. After all, I am his blood. You think he cares enough?” “Just because you married into the Luther family doesn’t mean you’re a queen. Life doesn’t work like that.” Eleanor bit down on her lip, fuming. “I’m Robert Luther’s legitimate wife. You have no right to speak to me like this.” “Is that so? What about your husband? Do you know who he’s been seeing in Italy all this time?” With that, Isabella pulled out a stack of photographs and waved them in front of Eleanor's face.
Chapter 2
**Let’s Get Divorced** In the photographs taken outside the vibrant flower shop, a couple stood close together, their heads bowed in a deep conversation. He was tall and aloof, a striking figure that radiated confidence; she had a smile that could cut through the grimmest of days. The angle of the shots lent an intimacy to the moment, making it look like they were more than friends. Robert Luther was supposed to be at work. How could he be here with Sophia Sommers? Isabella Jenkins watched with a smug satisfaction as Eleanor Gaines’s face blanched, no matter the reality, her goal was achieved. With a glint of mischief in her eye, Isabella quipped, “Men are inherently flawed. It’s the ones they can’t have that they want the most. Robert Luther is no different, Eleanor. Don’t think I’m the only one who’s worried about you having this baby; I doubt Robert wants you to keep it either.” “Making you terminate the pregnancy is for your own good. Otherwise, who knows what’ll happen when you two inevitably split? You wouldn’t stand a chance in custody battles against him.” “You—” The drug took effect quickly, and before Eleanor could ask further questions, pain tore through her abdominal area like fire, consuming her senses. Desperation surged as she cried out, “Please… don’t hurt my child…” No matter the circumstances, the child was innocent. But the only reply was Isabella’s cruel, mocking laughter. Eleanor felt the world dimming around her as warmth trickled down her legs; strength left her, and a chilling cold enveloped her body. A frigid command cut through her haze. “Take her to the doctor for the procedure.” Two men clad in black grabbed Eleanor and began dragging her outside. In a frantic moment, she pushed them away and made a desperate dash for freedom. Each step was marked by blood, and still, she ran with reckless abandon. The intensity of the pain in her abdomen escalated with each jolt, sweat beading on her forehead, her complexion ghostly pale. But she didn’t make it far before she stumbled, collapsing to the ground, unable to move… So Eleanor was carted away like a helpless fish thrown onto the chopping block. The sterile lights of the operating room invaded her muddled thoughts. With her last ounce of strength, she grasped a nurse's wrist. “Save my baby… please…” “Miss, you took medication. The child can’t be saved. There would be complications.” “Help my child…” Her voice trailed off, drifting away as darkness claimed her. --- Between the miscarriage and the blood loss, Eleanor had nearly lost her life. When she awoke three days later, it was to the soft rays of the setting sun filtering through the hospital room’s white walls. For a fleeting moment, she thought it was all just a nightmare. But the sharp pain in her abdomen slithered deep into her bones, mercilessly reminding her. The baby was gone. It wasn’t a dream. “You’re awake. Are you feeling okay?” The voice snapped her back to reality. It was Henry Luther, her father-in-law, sitting by her bedside. Eleanor opened her mouth, longing to voice the torrent of agony and rage swirling inside her, but the intensity made her throat tighten, and no words escaped. Tears fell freely as she looked at Henry. Even dressed in the armor of grief, she still possessed a beauty that lit up the color-drained halls of the Luther household like a rare flower amidst the gray. Henry seldom interacted with her, but he had never held her in disdain. Now, witnessing the storm of tears in her eyes, a flicker of concern crossed his usually stoic features. “You're still young. You can have another baby. Right now, focus on getting better. Don’t dwell on it too much.” “You’ll be taken care of in the hospital. I’ll ensure someone is here for you. If you need anything, just ask. I’ll do whatever I can.” Henry’s calm demeanor stunned Eleanor. That child was his grandchild too. How could he deliver such a lackadaisical comfort? How could he not feel anything towards Isabella, the woman responsible for this tragedy? Eleanor bit back her tears. “That child was a life, not a thing. Isabella Jenkins is nothing short of a murderer.” “I know she made a mistake, but she’s been dealt with. She understands her wrongdoing and—” “Dealt with? Care to elaborate on what that means?” Eleanor’s fists tightened, her nails biting into her palms, but the pain was long forgotten in the fire of her rage. She fixed her gaze on Henry, her stubbornness causing displeasure to reflect back at her. “The baby is gone. There’s no bringing them back. Do you really wish for someone’s blood in exchange?” “Yes.” Eleanor’s answer was unwavering. Henry frowned and shot from his seat. “I always thought you were a reasonable young woman, but you’re acting uncharacteristically irrational.” “What kind of madness is it to expect me to empathize with a murderer?” With a bitter laugh, Eleanor looked away. “What a farce; Isabella Jenkins killed the woman you love, and you still treat her like family. How could I expect you to seek justice for me?” Mentioning the wound in Henry’s heart was like poking a bear, and his expression darkened instantly. “The old man is still in the ICU. Do you really want to cause a upheaval in the Luther family right now? What do you think that would do to him?” “If only he knew that Isabella’s actions took his great-grandchild…” Seeing Eleanor’s distress, Henry tightened his jaw, clearly annoyed by her stubbornness and unwillingness to let things be. “Maybe it’s time you heard Robert’s thoughts on this matter.” With that, he produced his phone and casually held it out to her. “I spoke with Robert yesterday. Here, listen to the recording of our conversation.” He pressed play. “Now that the baby is gone, what are you planning to do?” Robert’s familiar, cool voice sliced through the still air. A stifling silence gripped Eleanor, each heartbeat a reminder of the hope that was slowly slipping away. “Good riddance. That saved us a lot of trouble. Just handle the situation with Eleanor; I don’t want to be involved further.” Once the recording ended, Eleanor felt an abyss-like emptiness settle in her chest, her mind a chaotic jumble. A frigid chill seeped down her spine, stiffening her limbs with dread. Henry’s final words barely reached her ears as she drifted away, consumed by the gut-wrenching reality of it all. “I’ve said my piece. Take your time to think. I’ll send someone for you when you’re ready.” That night, Eleanor found herself confined within the sterile walls of the hospital. The recording echoed incessantly in her mind like a knife twisting deeper into her heart, ripping apart memories, shattering them to pieces. For eight years, Eleanor had loved Robert Luther. She sacrificed a burgeoning acting career, dedicating herself to being the perfect Mrs. Luther. She even molded herself into the ghost of his first love to win him back—dressing in plain clothes and embracing the demure persona he sought. She had foolishly believed that her sacrifices would win over Robert’s heart. In the end, she didn’t just lose him; she lost everything. How ridiculous to realize now that he thought children were nothing but an inconvenience—that they would only stand in the way of his reunion with Sophia Sommers. It was time to face the truth. Robert was no longer a part of her life, nor would she return to the suffocating grasp of the Luther family. That place could never be home. Eleanor shattered her own heart, weaving a resolve that finally let go of Robert’s grasp. By dawn, her fingers trembled as she sent a message to Robert Luther. “Let’s get divorced.” Moments later, she dialed a number but couldn’t hold back the wave of tears streaming down her cheeks. “Please come get me… I want to go home…” Her broken voice faded into the silence, leaving her alone in her pain.
Chapter 3
**The Night Unveils** Three Years Later. On a calm sea, a luxury cruise liner sliced through the moonlit waters toward the horizon. Inside, a lavish masked charity gala unfolded, attended by the elite from all corners of the country. The host was the elusive founder of the rising international jewelry brand "Durham," known more for her absence than her presence, fueling intrigue among guests who were eager to catch a glimpse of this mysterious figure. Among the curious weren’t just gossip-hunters; there were also business moguls eyeing potential partnerships. Rumor had it that "Durham" was ready to dive into the domestic market, with their first store becoming a target of fierce competition among major malls. As the dazzling chandeliers cast a warm glow over the room, five raw gemstones, alluring in their raw beauty, stood proudly in the center. Three stones hailed from the notorious Myanmar mines, famed for their high gamble, while the other two, from a less productive site in Mogok, offered the rare chance of high-quality jadeite. Melodious waltzes filled the air, clinking glasses mingled with laughter, but beneath it all lurked a palpable tension as guests navigated their ambitions and desires. On the second floor, several opulent private rooms overlooked the bustling scene below, reserved exclusively for distinguished guests. Isabella Jenkins paced restlessly between a plush sofa and the massive windows, her anxiety radiating from her every footfall, clearly irritating her father, James Jenkins. "Can you sit still for a second?" he snapped, irritation etched on his face. “Dad, I can’t help it! Didn’t you say William Gaines was coming? Where the hell is he?" Isabella fumed, her frustration evident as she stomped lightly. Isabella had pushed to come aboard with her daughter, Edward Luther, following whispers of Gaines’ attendance. In her mind, aligning Edward with the Gaines family could restore their fortune, reclaim Edward’s rightful place at the helm of the Luther empire, and secure a comfortable life for them both. “My people saw him board earlier; there’s no mistake,” James reassured, taking a sip from his tea, though his eyes were fixated on the auction catalog, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. “Where’s Edward?" he probed, his voice sharp. “She said she’d check downstairs—I don’t know where she’s wandered off to.” Isabella stood abruptly, determination flashing in her eyes. “I’ll go find her.” As Isabella descended the stairs, fate contrived to put her directly in the path of Robert Luther and Sophia Sommers. A dark cloud settled over her as she brushed past them, their indifference stinging. Robert barely acknowledged her, his focus elsewhere as they headed up the staircase, Sophia, ever the tactful ally, trailed closely, bringing a glass of champagne to Robert without a word about Isabella. In the dim light of the room, the ambience was thick with a kind of unease, where shadows played across Robert Luther's chiseled features; he exuded an air of unapproachable beauty. His striking features only accentuated by the flickering light—the high cheekbones, the sharp jawline—from the side, he looked like a work of art. Sophia’s heart raced at his fleeting glance, but before she could muster an ounce of bravery to speak, the door swung open, and Charles Duncan, with a booming voice, barged in. “Brother, did you check out those gemstones yet? Give me a hint,” he demanded, oblivious to Robert’s mood. Robert scowled. “Dude, can’t you see I’m not in the mood?” Sophia, reading the room, stood and excused herself. “I’ll go see what they have for appetizers,” she said, swiftly exiting the tension. Shifting in his seat, Charles settled down beside Robert, his demeanor annoyingly cheerful. “Hiding a woman away for so long and still no label? Classic player behavior,” he teased. Robert kicked his leg playfully to silence him. “Keep it up; I’ll send you back to your high school English teacher for a reality check.” “Ouch, man,” Charles rubbed his leg with a grimace. “I’m just looking out for you. You’ve been divorced for three years; it’s time to think about moving on—unless you’re planning to be a hermit.” A glare silenced Charles, who knew better than to press on the sore topic. “Besides, did you hear about Thomas Jenkins? He’s dying to meet the ‘Durham’ girl,” Charles continued, seeking to distract Robert. “Who would’ve guessed the once-mighty Jenkins Jewelers is looking to ride the coattails of a new brand?” The Jenkins family had once reigned over the jewelry business. Jenkins Jewelers had dominated the scene, but things had changed since the days of Thomas Jenkins. Stuck in outdated design, they struggled while newcomers like “Durham” flourished, leaving them in the dust. Because of this decline, Isabella had lost her footing, finding refuge within the Luther family, allowing Robert to step into the power vacuum effortlessly. Three years—a fleeting moment, yet it bore witness to monumental shifts in the intricate power dynamics among the elite of Elderton. Still, Charles rambled on, but Robert filtered him out, shrugging off his chatter. “What’s the status on ‘Durham’?” he finally asked, annoyance creeping in. “I—I couldn’t find much,” Charles stammered. “Whoever runs this operation is either a ghost or has serious connections.” “Didn’t I tell you to figure it out?” Robert’s patience waned, frustration brewing. A successful brand doesn’t spring up from nowhere; it has to have a driving force, probably someone formidable behind the scenes. “Stop wasting my time. I’ll take this into my own hands.” As he stood to leave, a voice interrupted from just outside the door—one of the staff. “Mr. Luther, I’m sorry, but our owner has a guest and cannot meet with you.” Stunned silence enveloped the room. Charles erupted into laughter. “Did just get turned away at the door? This is too rich! You’re eating humble pie right now, buddy!” “Shut it.” Robert hurled a cushion at him, the irony of the situation boiling in his blood, propelled by righteous indignation. With the storm brewing in his chest, he stormed out of the room, the weight of the evening hanging heavy. Charles chuckled, relishing the moment—a rare slip-up for the notorious Robert Luther. … On the uppermost deck of the cruise, adorned in opulence, the hallway was thick with plush red carpet that swallowed each footstep. This level was reserved solely for the cruise’s owner, an air of tranquility engulfing the space, punctuated only by the sharp click of door hinges. As Robert approached, he caught sight of a man emerging from a room, quietly closing the door behind him. The man didn’t notice Robert, turning toward the elevators, and even from the back, Robert recognized him instantly—William Gaines, the heir of the distinguished Gaines family. It struck him suddenly… “Durham’s” owner was meeting with none other than William Gaines. His thoughts were interrupted by another door creaking open. A woman adorned in a cat-faced mask glided down the hallway, her flowing red gown swishing like molten silk, the high slit revealing long, alabaster legs. The mask obscured most of her delicate face, but the velvet red base, encrusted with diamonds that sparkled like constellations, caught the light beautifully. Underneath, she wore a drop-shaped diamond, the weight of which glimmered like tears in her eyes. For a moment, she was blindingly beautiful, a crimson rose in a dimly lit garden, and with every step she took toward Robert, an inexplicable weight landed in his chest. He had never felt this way before—a mix of intrigue and unease, creeping closer as she approached.
Chapter 4
A Dangerous Game “Hello, Samuel Luther.” Hearing her voice pulled Robert Luther from his thoughts, shaking off the strange flutter he felt deep inside. Looking at the woman before him, there was an undeniable resemblance to Eleanor Gaines, from her face shape to her figure; yet, the voice was completely different. His heart sank—an illusion, perhaps. Eleanor Gaines could never be as bold as this woman. “You know who I am,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Even though I’ve been abroad for quite some time, the name Robert Luther carries quite a weight. I doubt there are many who don’t recognize it,” she replied, a playful curve to her lips underneath her feline mask. Robert furrowed his brows slightly. “And how should I address you?” “My last name is Duncan. Samuel Luther can call me Miss Duncan.” She approached him, her stilettos clicking against the polished floor, an intoxicating scent of rich cedarwood wafting from his tailored suit. It was all too familiar, dredging up memories he wished he could forget. For a fleeting moment, it felt like a claw had scraped across his heart, the pain sharp and unwelcome. With a smile that betrayed a hint of mischief, she looked deeply into his eyes. “I’m curious about why Samuel Luther sought me out.” “Why don’t we start by answering my question?” he countered, his gaze unwavering. “What’s the connection between ‘Durham’ and William Gaines?” If ‘Durham’ did have ties to the Gaines family, then his plans were better left untouched. He had no interest in wasting his efforts. She chuckled lightly, mischief dancing in her foxlike eyes. “So, Samuel Luther is interested in my relationship with William Gaines. I see your curiosity lies with me…” As she spoke, her delicate fingers reached for his tie, playfully tugging it, pulling him just a bit closer. Her breath brushed against his throat, and he caught the slight movement of her gaze trailing along his jawline to his tightly pressed lips. It was a clear, dangerous signal. “You know,” she said, still nonchalant, “if Samuel Luther is interested, I’d be more than willing to discuss the matter further.” Robert straightened his spine, pushing her away slightly. “If ‘Durham’ is building itself up through these kinds of tactics, I’m afraid there’s nothing more to discuss.” His suspicions confirmed, he now saw her as just another pretty face using her charms to navigate the shark-infested waters of privilege—what could she possibly offer? “Excuse me, are you with ‘Durham’?” A tentative voice ventured from behind them. When Robert turned around, he saw James Jenkins’ assistant, visibly startled to find him in such an intimate position with the woman. “Ah, looks like I'm quite popular tonight,” she teased, giving his tie another playful yank, enjoying the way Robert’s brow knitted tighter in response. “Ma'am, I’m the assistant to Jenkins Jewelers’ chairman. Mr. Jenkins would like to meet with you, if you’re available…” the assistant began, only to be cut off. “Sorry, but I haven’t finished my conversation with Samuel Luther yet. I'm not really in a position to meet anyone else right now,” she interrupted smoothly. She glanced back at Robert, “In Elderton, I wouldn't want to find myself on the wrong side of someone like Samuel Luther.” Her words were layered, tinged with implications he found intriguing. The assistant felt the tension rise, visibly uncomfortable as it was clear she was rejecting James Jenkins in favor of Robert. “I’ll be sure to relay your message to Mr. Jenkins,” he muttered, forcing a smile before walking away. As soon as the assistant left, Robert’s hands around her waist tightened, pulling her closer. “What are you playing at?” he demanded, a low growl in his voice. Robert could almost picture Thomas Jenkins’ face turning beet red in anger at the thought of this woman using him as a pawn. “The Luthers have strong roots, and Samuel Luther, young and brash as he is, should know better than to take this lightly,” she replied with narrowed eyes, her smile still playful. “Besides, I’m not at the point where I find interest in old babies.” Her teasing was infuriating, yet somehow engrossing. Robert raised an eyebrow, loosening his grip. “And I’m not exactly in the market for someone else's woman.” Somewhere in the midst of their flirtation, the evening’s dinner began. William Gaines, the scion of the esteemed Gaines family, descended the stairs, instantly commanding attention. Beside him was a striking woman dressed in a radiant red gown that made her skin glow as if lit from within. They paused on the stairs, and with a confident grace, she gracefully stepped away from him. “Thank you all for coming to the gala! It’s a true honor to have you here with me tonight,” she announced, her voice ringing clear, igniting cheers throughout the room. No one expected the owner of ‘Durham’ to be such a dazzling beauty, and for a moment, everyone seemed to forget about William who’d quietly slipped away from the staircase. Only Isabella Jenkins, however, remained fixated on his retreating figure. Just as she reached for her daughter to follow, she was yanked back. “Mom, did you not see he’s with someone? What’s your plan?” her daughter Edward spat, visibly annoyed. “I can’t just let this chance slip through my fingers,” Isabella shot back, her eyes aflame with determination. “If you’re going to play the part of the desperate mother, I’m out,” Edward snapped. Their argument drew a glare from Thomas Jenkins. “Are you trying to embarrass the Jenkins name?” he barked, silencing them both. “Look at Edward; she isn’t listening to a word I say. You need to talk some sense into her,” Isabella implored, almost pleading. “Honestly, I've heard enough of this nonsense. You can't even manage your own child, and you think you can handle anything else?” he seethed, frustration spilling over. “If you had the slightest bit of competence, you wouldn’t be looking for ways to sell off your daughter’s future.” “Dad...” Isabella felt the weight of his words, frustration and shame washing over her. “And what have you done to make today any better? How can you help me? If you could just stay out of my way, that would be enough,” he barked, turning his gaze back to the stairs, a storm brewing in his eyes. “Is it that woman who’s got you so worked up?” Isabella asked, putting two and two together. “Of course, it is!” he snapped, his teeth clenched. “She has the audacity to string Robert Luther along and reject my offers right to his face.” That insolent girl dared to undervalue Jenkins Jewelers. This was a slight he couldn’t let slide. He leaned in close, his voice a low hiss. “We’re going to get that original stone tonight at any cost. Jenkins will reclaim its pride.” Isabella, never one to miss an opportunity, nodded eagerly. “Leave it to me, Dad. I’ll handle it.”
Chapter 5
**Turning the Tables** Before long, the auction of the raw stones had officially kicked off. The attention centered on Lot Five, a rock with promising surface mottling and shape, featuring a few striking green patches lingering near the surface. The likelihood of extracting a flawless emerald was exceptionally high. Just as predicted, bids started climbing at an alarming rate. Isabella Jenkins, a fierce competitor, hadn’t placed any bids on the previous lots, biding her time for this moment. She wanted her and her daughter, Cleo, to be the stars of the show, the Jenkins family to take center stage. In the world of auctions, letting a number become a mere trifle was a cardinal sin. The stakes rose, and Isabella could feel the adrenaline kicking in. “Sixty million!” she called out, her voice piercing through the tension in the room. “Mom, are you nuts?” Edward Luther, her son, hissed, clutching her arm. “Do we even have that kind of money?” “Cleo, don’t worry! They’re saying it could cut out over a hundred million in emerald. Just watch me make you shine,” she replied, her eyes glinting with excitement. She was on cloud nine, taking in the salivating looks of those around her. In the end, Lot Five sold for a staggering sixty-eight million. All eyes were now on the professional cutters as they prepared to slice into the rock. But as Isabella settled down, a wave of anxiety washed over her. Sixty-eight million was no small change, after all. The stones before it had all yielded decent materials, with Lot Three fetching around fifty million. If the lesser stones could deliver, surely Lot Five wouldn’t disappoint. Her confidence returned, urging the team to cut into the prized stone. Everyone held their breath as the blade followed the pre-marked line. Each inch down felt like a knife through Isabella’s chest. The stone split, falling into two halves. All of her bravado evaporated in an instant, and she could only stare, shocked. “H-how… is this possible?” The stone revealed itself—a layer of low-quality green with an infuriating tail-like inclusion running through it. The worst outcome had occurred—an inclusion often referred to as a “tail,” known for its destructiveness. No matter the quality, it was hardly worth anything. Isabella’s knees buckled beneath her, and she sank to the floor. “No… no…” Her father, Thomas Jenkins, who had been watching from behind her, wore a grim expression. He had intended to bid high for Lot Five, expecting minimal profit, but never anticipated such a complete financial wreck. “No. I can’t accept this. Sixty-eight million for a worthless rock? Do you think I’m a fool?” she shouted, her eyes darting towards a woman clad in a striking red dress not far off. “That’s rich coming from you, ma’am,” the woman replied slowly, an elegant smile dancing on her lips. “You made the bid, and in gambling, it’s all about taking responsibility for your wagers.” Isabella’s face flushed with indignation. “This has been rigged! You set up this whole charade to get a high price and rake in the cash. I can tell you’re up to no good!” The woman, unfazed, raised an eyebrow and turned her gaze to Thomas. “I’ve heard that Jenkins Jewelers is struggling these days. It seems they’re still managing, though.” “Please excuse my daughter; this is her first auction. She doesn’t understand the rules of engagement. I’ll make sure to teach her when we get home.” “Dad, why are you defending her? We shouldn’t have to accept this crummy stone!” Isabella wasn’t naïve; she knew this was a game her father was playing. Right now, he was pretending as if the matter of money was unimportant, but deep down, he was determined to place the blame squarely on her. The woman scanned the father-daughter duo, seeming to read Thomas like an open book. He had always cared too much about appearances, making him a cunning old fox willing to sacrifice even family for his pride. A calculating smile flitted across her face. “I hope to hear what you two decide before the sun rises tomorrow.” The unspoken implication was clear: whether they liked it or not, they’d have to take responsibility for the stone. “You’re dreaming. I’ll tell you right now, I refuse to acknowledge that stone. You think you can intimidate me into compliance?” Isabella retorted defiantly. Thomas moved forward, pulling Isabella behind him to avoid her outburst. He shot her a piercing look; embarrassment was palpable. “Don’t worry; I’ll make sure she provides a satisfactory response,” he said, turning back to the woman with a charming smile. “Dad, it’s really you who should be—" *Slap.* The loud crack of a slap echoed as Isabella’s words were cut off. “Your incompetence cost us dearly, and you want to keep arguing?” Thomas glared at her. “In the jewelry business, integrity is everything. You made the bid, so you’re responsible for it.” After years of ruling in the jewelry world, Thomas Jenkins wasn’t about to take such a blow lying down. Now, whether Isabella liked it or not, she had to face the music. Otherwise, where would he save face among his peers? Realizing this, Isabella stared at her father in disbelief. “But Dad, that’s sixty-eight—” “*You better be able to pay for that,*” Thomas snapped, cutting her off. As much as Isabella was Henry Luther’s wife, sixty-eight million was pocket change for the Luther family. Clearing his throat, Thomas said with a stern demeanor, “Consider this a lesson. Learn more from me in the future.” “Dad, you said that Lot Five was risky...” “I warned you the risks were high,” he snapped back, leaning closer as he lowered his voice. “Without the Jenkins name, good luck trying to survive in the Luther family.” At his words, Isabella went pale. She never imagined her own father could so callously sacrifice her like this. Finally, seeing her silence, Thomas’s expression softened, sporting a kind smile. “Think of this as a charitable act; it’s for a good cause.” Isabella turned slowly, looking at him for a long moment. “Got it, Dad.” That reluctant admission fell from her lips like a deep sigh. As night deepened and a wild wind swirled around them, the woman in red lifted her skirt high, revealing her long, beautiful legs. “Stop right there.” The shout from behind caught her attention, causing the woman to pause and turn, a smirk crossing her face as she regarded Isabella hastily approaching. “I won’t take responsibility for that stone, and you won’t see a dime from me.” The woman crossed her arms smugly, watching Isabella with bemusement. “It seems Edward Luther’s words didn’t mean much after all,” she said. “Look, he—” “So you just brushed aside his words?” “No, it’s not like that.” Isabella felt the heat of rage boiling as she realized she was being toyed with. “Stop wasting my time. You think you can intimidate me? I’m a Luther. Cross me, and you’ll have no place in Elderton.” “Funny you should say that.” The woman’s laughter sliced through the air, icy and sharp. “I’m not afraid of the Luthers.” Raising her hand, she slowly removed a mask from her face, her lips curling into a derisive smile. The sea breeze tossed her hair around her shoulders, and in the moonlight, her features appeared even more aloof—pure beauty mixed with outright defiance. Isabella’s face drained of color as if she had seen a ghost, stumbling backward. “You... it can’t be…” “Yes, it’s me,” Eleanor Gaines said, stepping closer with predatory calm, forcing Isabella back against the railing, the tumultuous sea stretching behind her. Isabella had never seen this side of Eleanor Gaines—a penetrating gaze that reminded her of a predator honing in on its prey. “Don’t come any closer!” she stammered. “What do you want?” “Nothing much. Just a reminder: I expect that money. It’s going to the St. Agnes Charity Fund, so you can think of it as a redemption gift for your child.” Eleanor leaned in, hand outstretched, causing Isabella to flinch and fall onto the deck in terror. Eleanor burst into laughter, resting her hand on the railing, looking down at Isabella from her lofty position, a serene demeanor amid the chaos. “And know this is just the opening act.” Her eyes darkened as she enunciated her words, “What I want is the entire Jenkins family to go down with you.”
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