Eugene's gaze briefly lingered on Lydia, though his words were addressed to the crowd around him. "The auction is about to begin. If you don't want to miss out, you'd better get ready."

His tone made it clear he wasn't interested in further conversation. The people around them were quick to pick up on social cues and nodded in agreement.

"Mr. Ford is right, we can't miss this one!"

"It's time to head in," someone else chimed in.

As soon as the words were spoken, the lights in the room dimmed. Amid the collective gasps of the crowd, a spotlight shone on the stage where the host stepped into view. After the usual pleasantries, the auction officially began. People quickly found their seats, and Lydia followed Quincy to a spot with a good view of the stage.

As they settled in, Eugene passed by, leaning slightly toward her as he said, "I'll see you after the auction."

she reached for Quincy's hand and firmly pulled it toward her. Inspecting his reddened knuckles, she frowned, her heart tightening with both anger and concern. "I asked you earlier, and you said you were fine. Does this look like 'fine'

nothing," he reassured her. "I hurt it earlier while dealing with those guys. And I'd do it again in a heartbeat if

a little bruise," he added softly,

gentle coaxing, Lydia finally calmed down, though

were relatively minor trinkets which included antique vases and art paintings. But

from the crowd. Many were

hand. It was a thumb-sized, sparkling violet gem that

she understood why so many wealthy socialites and

bid for it," Quincy said, handing

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