Inside the private wing, the exclusive reception prior to the primary auction was well underway.
The brilliant light from the massive crystal chandeliers cascaded across the polished marble floor, and attendants carrying silver trays glided effortlessly through the jewel-encrusted crowd.
The exact second Avery entered the space at Dominic’s side, the collective murmur of sophisticated conversations faltered for several agonizing beats.
Word of young Master Bonner running out of the gallery in tears had clearly preceded them. Dozens of sharp, invading glances cut through the hall toward her like a rising tide, only to scatter in panic the moment Dominic’s freezing gray eyes swept across the room.
Yet the atmosphere here was fundamentally different from the outer corridor.
The oligarchs
