The thunder of the auction had faded into memory, but its reverberations still clung to the walls of the grand hotel. The chandeliers above the cocktail lounge cast a softer, warmer glow compared to the brilliance of the ballroom, yet the air here was no less charged. Deals were being struck in whispers, alliances formed behind clinks of crystal, and reputations built or ruined at the tilt of a head.
For Gigi, however, the atmosphere felt suffocating.
Her pulse still thrummed from the spectacle of the auction. The way Jason had claimed the canvas so effortlessly, with that air of controlled arrogance. The way Jonathan had pulled back with a faint smile, retreating like a man who hadn’t truly lost anything. Everyone had applauded Jason’s win, yet she couldn’t shake the image of Jonathan’s
