Chapter Twelve
Fancy Desire
No one moved for what seemed forever. Then, all at once with a roar -
“Minimum?”
“Reserve?”
“Dutch auction! Dutch auction!”
One voice rang out above the others.
“You’re not the owner! I am!”
I suspect Stockard’s cronies expected her to say those words, but she didn’t. She just sat quiet, but her rage was plainly building. Stockard knew what would happen if Irena managed to sell the Realm; she would have to deal with the new owner and maybe get her investment money back, but it would kill any chance she had of swooping in and taking title to the property. Instead the claim of ownership came from another, but no less angry source.
Wingard. He jumped up, face red. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? I have the majority interest! You can’t sell anyth
