Angela's POV
Not long after, a man in a sharply tailored black suit approached, a small earpiece tucked discreetly into his ear.
“Miss Angela?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Mr. Bennett is already inside. Please follow me.”
He turned immediately, not waiting for my response.
I followed one step behind him. The moment the doors opened, sound rushed in, soft music, scattered applause, the low hum of conversation mixed with laughter.
Then a clear, confident voice cut through it all.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the current bid stands at five hundred thousand. Do I hear six?”
My steps slowed.
My eyes instinctively went to the stage. A man who looked like the auctioneer stood in a crisp tuxedo. Behind him, a large screen displayed an abstract painting.
I froze.
So Ian had dragged me to an auction.
