Doubling Down

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Melbourne

A month ago

The light shone on an empty silver plate resting on a podium covered in black velvet. Gentle music floated in the air, lulling the audience and creating an enchanting ambience. The sound of thunder rumbled across the room. Sparks of lightning hit the silver tray, and wisps of smoke swirled up from the floor of the stage.

At the third lightning strike, an exquisite crystal shoe appeared on the tray.

A spotlight poured down from above, encircling the silver tray and the digital image of the shoe upon it.

The audience clapped as a man dressed in a formal black suit and bow tie stepped onto the stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce you to In Her Shoe, one of the most sophisticated pieces of digital art in this century, created by our talented digital artist Adriana Oliveira, original artwork by Juliette LeBlanc.”

A sign announcing this show had been projected to the audience outside the auction room. The grand hall of National Gallery Victoria exploded with applause.

However, it was quiet in this room because it was a place reserved for serious investors, collectors, and others who were here to buy artwork.

Ciaran diverted his attention to the cell phone he held in his hand as new items were introduced.

The Melbourne art precinct was one of Ciaran’s favorite places in Australia. He managed to visit whenever his business took him to this country. But this time, it was a planned visit to the exhibition center, and the business negotiation in town was only an excuse.

A message from the CEO of the LeBlanc conglomerate popped up on the screen of his cell phone. “Where are you, Ciaran?”

“Linsey, the right question is whether the meeting this afternoon went well. And the answer is yes, we got the deal. I’ll be at London headquarters the day after tomorrow.”

“All right, I’ll reschedule my plans. See you in the office. A quick question. What do you want me to do with the bunch of hackers we caught?”

“I don’t see them as a threat. Make sure they have nothing from our system, and then let them go.”

“You’re in a charitable mood.”

“No, but I don’t want to waste our resources on low-caliber thieves.”

“Will do. Bye, Ciaran.”

Another message popped up, this one from his brother. “I know you’re where you shouldn’t be, Ciaran. I put two security guards there.”

Ciaran rolled his eyes and glanced toward the back of the room. Two men in suits sat there, trying their best to look like the other people in the room. But to Ciaran, they stuck out like sore thumbs. He shook his head.

“This is a low profile event, Tadgh. I won’t be exposed, and there's no press in this private auction room. You’re my little brother, not my father.”

“I’m just worried about my own ass. You need to take care of the family business while I'm having fun on safari. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Want a souvenir boomerang?”

“Shut up, Ciaran. Get back to London in one piece.”

The auction for the shoe had begun. Ciaran didn’t pay much attention to the bidding. It would start slow, and he’d let it grow before he scooped it up in the final bid.

He stared at the digital image of the crystal shoe. It was almost as if he was looking at Juliette’s original artwork.

She had made this before they were married. Ciaran had no idea it existed. She had never mentioned her involvement in the art project until she asked for his help to retrieve her work. He refused, but only because he wanted to obtain the item for her surprise birthday present.

He never had a chance to tell her that he'd begun the search for her work. Losing her so suddenly was painful. And the idea that she had died thinking he didn’t care made his emotional wound unhealable.

“Thirty thousand dollars!” the auctioneer said in delight. “Can I have more? Anyone else want a chance to own this one-of-a-kind beauty?” He paused. “Thirty thousand going once. Thirty thousand going twice.”

Ciaran raised his bidding card.

“We have thirty-one thousand from bidder number nine.”

Ciaran clenched his jaw. The bidding seemed to move at a snail's pace.

The person who bid thirty thousand raised his card.

“Thirty-two thousand.”

“Thirty-three thousand.” The auctioneer acknowledged Ciaran’s bid.

“Thirty-four thousand,” the person returned.

Ciaran voiced his bid. “Fifty thousand.”

The other person appeared to receive instructions on his cell phone. The auctioneer gave him a few seconds and was about to announce the win for Ciaran.

“A hundred thousand,” the man said and turned to look at Ciaran. His eyes sparked in a strange, almost neon-green shade in the dim light of the room.

“Two hundred thousand,” Ciaran bid.

The man smirked. “Three hundred.”

Ciaran nodded, acknowledging the man’s intention to drag out the auction. The man wanted to play games, but Ciaran liked winning. Money had never been an issue with the LeBlancs. But time was.

“One million.”

The room temperature seemed to drop when Ciaran lifted the bid to seven figures.

Now the man had to consult with someone on the phone again.

“Two million.”

Ciaran smiled. “Four.”

“Four point five.”

Ciaran heard the pitch of the man’s voice rise, and he knew when to throw the fatal punch.

“Six million.”

The man shook his head, stood up, and left the room.

The room applauded. The spotlight swung toward Ciaran.

“Congratulations to the owner of In Her Shoe. Ciaran LeBlanc!”

Ciaran's security guards stood up at the back of the room when the auctioneer accidentally revealed his name.

“Sorry, I meant the highest priced item of the event, sponsored by the LeBlanc conglomerate. Now that we've concluded this auction, ladies and gentlemen, please head to the VIP lounge for the celebration.” The auctioneer signaled his staff to clear the room.

Ciaran’s security stood a few feet away from him and stopped anyone, especially the press, from approaching.

“I am so sorry, Mr. LeBlanc.”

“Ciaran, please.” He shook the auctioneer’s hand.

“Your name wasn’t on the list. Plus, the room was dark, and I didn’t recognize you. You didn’t have to bid. You already sponsored the whole event. All you needed to do was pick the piece you liked, and it would have been yours.”

“It’s only fair to bid, and I think it’s good for the artist's exposure.”

“Speaking of the artist—this is Ms. Adriana Oliveira.”

Adriana approached with a radiant smile on her beautiful oval face and a glass of champagne in her hand. An elegant dress wrapped around her perfect body, as perfect as her artwork.

“So, you are the famous Ciaran LeBlanc.”

“I’m not sure what I'm famous for. I admire your work, Ms. Oliveira. It’s very nice to meet you in person.”

She smiled.

“It’s my honor to meet the man behind the passion that inspires my work.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t mean to make a fuss about the shoe when you called and asked to buy it. The shoe was a small inspiration for my work. The love your late wife put into it was a large part of the inspiration. But even working as a commercial artist for a long time, I still found it hard to complete that piece. Until you called me.”

“Except for the offer to buy the shoe, I don't recall giving you anything else—not even information about why I wanted to buy the shoe.”

She chuckled. “You gave me the vision of your love and devotion for her. I could feel it in the way you asked me for the shoe. It was as if it was the most delicate thing, the most precious thing you could possess in life. It’s not the shoe, but your memory of her. You treasure that. And you didn’t want to cause any friction that might break the memory. You didn’t want to force anything, because forcing love will only break it.”

“I don’t analyze my own emotions. But I appreciate that you gave it so much thought, and I’m glad you could use that one phone call as the inspiration to complete the work.”

“That’s just the surface of your emotional ocean, Ciaran. But thank you for your support. The original artwork, the shoe, is now yours. It’s in a box underneath the digital display.” She gestured toward the podium.

The auctioneer smiled. “I wager you’d like to have a bit of time by yourself here. I’ve cleared and secured the room.”

He nodded goodbye and took Ms. Oliveira out of the room. Ciaran's security left to stand guard at the door.

Alone in the room, Ciaran looked at the digital version of the shoe Juliette made. It was an exquisite and beautiful digital representation of the original artwork.

Despite what others had said about Juliette and what she did, Ciaran believed the shoe was simply a piece of art she had created.

As he approached the stage to get the shoe, a 3D figure of a beautiful woman appeared, standing in front of the stage. She looked mesmerized by the shoe.

It was impressive, Ciaran thought.

The Triennial exhibition was going on in the art gallery. Before coming to this exhibition, Ciaran had seen some of the digital art performances in other rooms. Digital art, digital light, and digital projection merged classic paintings with the real environment and made the audience feel like they were in a magical forest or at the bottom of a deep ocean.

He liked what he had seen in the other rooms. But this life-size digital image was much better. It was so real. Almost like the hologram technology he was investing in.

The woman stood, staring at the shoe on the podium.

He smiled to himself and continued to the stage.

“Excuse me!”

The woman's voice was real. He could tell it didn’t come from a speaker. He turned around.

“Excuse me, that’s my shoe. I would like to have it back, please.”

“If you mean the digital artwork, I own it. I just won the auction for it.”

The woman blinked and looked at him with striking, beautiful blue eyes. He swore he saw a tear rolling down her face. She couldn’t possibly be a digital image.

“I understand the shoes are a work of magic. But they were given to me, and I need to have this one before midnight.”

“Oh no—don’t tell me you’re Cinderella.”

“How do you know my name?”