The collective roar of laughter in The Orion Gallery was a physical force, dripping with elitist scorn.
"Has Daphne Davenport lost her mind?" an antique dealer wiped a tear of mirth from his eye. "She’s letting this waste of space act as Chief Appraisal Consultant?"
"Hey, kid!" a rival dealer chimed in sarcastically. "You got lucky once, stumbling like a rat finding cheese. But Arthur Davenport—the industry’s gold standard—has already spoken. Don't humiliate yourself. Walk away while you still have dignity."
Arthur Davenport stood rigid. Hearing the jeers, he looked at his daughter, Daphne, with a mix of disappointment and concern, letting out a heavy sigh that seemed to age him.
Arthur had never met Liam Livingston, but he knew the reputation. The stories surrounding the Montgomerys’
