The rest of the night fizzled into something surprisingly peaceful.
By the time the auction came to an end, Mirena was left with a painting worth a hundred and twenty million, a few exchanged contacts and a throbbing ankle.
The moment she made it to the back of Alexander’s car, she dropped down with a heavy breath, clamming her eyes shut for a brief moment of peace.
Alexander slid in beside her and as Jeremy closed the door, he threw a glance at her.
She looked exhausted. Without a doubt, she really wasn't a social person.
“Was that painting worth it?” He asked, watching as she bent over and got to work on the heels she wore, undoing the strap.
“Wouldn't you like to know,” she muttered as she kicked the heels off and began massaging her angle.
He watched her, then, a
