Chapter 8 - The Charity Auction
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The centerpiece of the Winter Gala was the charity auction. It was a brutal display of ego where the wealthy competed to see who could casually throw away the most money for a good cause.
Julian and I sat at a premier table near the front. The Parker family was seated two tables away, their faces pale, the reality of Julian’s loan rejection clearly settling heavily on their shoulders.
The auctioneer, a charismatic man in a velvet jacket, took the stage.
“Ladies and gentlemen, our next item is a fully funded, two-week private yacht charter through the Amalfi Coast, graciously donated by the Rossi family. Bidding starts at fifty thousand dollars!”
Paddles went up around the room.
“Sixty thousand! Seventy! I have eighty thousand from the gentleman in the back!”
I glanced over at the Parker table. Margaret was whispering furiously to Daniel. They were desperate. They needed to project strength to the room, to prove to the circling sharks that Parker Industries wasn't bankrupt.
Daniel Parker raised his paddle. “One hundred thousand!”
A murmur rippled through the crowd. It was a strong bid, a desperate flex of financial muscle they no longer possessed.
“I have one hundred thousand from Mr. Parker!” the auctioneer beamed. “Do I hear one hundred and ten?”
I didn't even look at the stage. I took a slow sip of my champagne, picked up my paddle, and raised it lazily into the air.
“Two hundred thousand,” I said.
The entire ballroom went dead silent. The auctioneer blinked, stunned by the massive jump.
“Two... two hundred thousand from Ms. Bennett!”
Daniel Parker turned completely red. He glared at me, the veins in his neck bulging. He raised his paddle again, his hand shaking. “Two hundred and fifty thousand!”
Margaret grabbed his arm, her eyes wide with terror, likely doing the math on their rapidly dwindling credit lines.
I didn't hesitate. I didn't even consult Julian, who was watching me with an amused, hungry smile. I raised my paddle again.
“Five hundred thousand,” I said, my voice carrying effortlessly over the quiet room.
Daniel froze. Ethan dropped his head into his hands. They couldn't match it. If they tried, their checks would bounce by Monday morning, resulting in a criminal fraud investigation.
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“Five hundred thousand going once,” the auctioneer called out, breaking the heavy silence. “Going twice... Sold! To Claire Bennett of Riverstone Holdings!”
Applause broke out, but it was polite and terrified. Everyone in the room knew exactly what had just happened. It wasn't an auction. It was a public execution of the Parker family’s legacy.
