Chapter 3

"Five million dollars!"

The voice, amplified by the auctioneer's microphone, boomed through the ballroom, sharp and decisive. It wasn't mine. It wasn't Chloe's.

A man in a severe black suit, an earpiece glinting, stood near the stage. He held a paddle aloft, his expression impassive.

"The bid is five million, on behalf of an anonymous benefactor," the auctioneer announced, his voice laced with excitement. "For Miss Chloe Vance!"

A collective gasp swept through the room. Heads turned. Whispers erupted.

Five million. For a necklace. For Chloe.

Chloe herself looked stunned, her hand flying to her mouth. Then, a slow, triumphant smile spread across her face. She looked around, feigning humility, but her eyes shone with unconcealed glee.

Who would spend that kind of money on her?

The man in black remained stone-faced. "My principal wishes Miss Vance to have the necklace. The bidding from our side is unlimited, should there be any counter-offers."

Unlimited.

The crowd buzzed. Who was this mysterious benefactor, so wealthy and so openly smitten with Chloe Vance?

Chloe basked in the attention, her earlier pretense of shock replaced by a radiant, victorious glow. She even did a little curtsy to the room.

She tried to approach the man in black, likely to inquire about her mysterious admirer.

"My principal will reveal himself to Miss Vance at the appropriate time," the representative said coolly, deflecting her.

Chloe then turned, her gaze finding mine across the room. Her smile was pure venom, cloaked in sweetness.

"Oh, Ava," she called out, her voice carrying. "It seems someone thinks I deserve it more. Don't you agree?"

My blood turned to ice.

I knew.

I knew before I even looked.

But I looked anyway.

Across the room, standing in the shadows near an exit, was Ethan Knight.

He wasn't looking at the stage. He wasn't looking at Chloe's representative.

He was looking directly at Chloe.

And on his face was an expression of such open, blatant adoration, such tender devotion, that it stole the breath from my lungs.

He, Ethan Knight, son of Alexander Knight, was Chloe's anonymous benefactor.

He was using his vast, hidden fortune to publicly humiliate me and lavish gifts upon my half-sister.

The auction continued, a blur of other items. But the main event was over.

Every time Chloe idly admired an item – a painting, a rare first edition, a trip to a private island – the man in black would outbid everyone, securing it for her.

"My principal wishes Miss Vance to have this as well."

Again and again.

The room was abuzz. Chloe Vance, the charming but relatively unknown younger daughter of Marcus Monroe, was suddenly the most talked-about woman in New York, showered with an king's ransom in gifts by a secret, powerful admirer.

I felt sick.

I found the man in black near the bar.

"Who is your principal?" I demanded, my voice low and shaking with rage.

He looked at me, his eyes cold and empty. "My principal's only concern is Miss Chloe Vance's happiness, ma'am. No one else's feelings are a consideration."

He turned and walked away.

No one else's feelings. That meant me.

The fury inside me was a living thing, hot and choking.

I couldn't stand it anymore. I slipped out onto a deserted terrace, needing air, needing to escape the suffocating atmosphere of Chloe's triumph and Ethan's betrayal.

The cool night air did little to soothe the inferno in my chest.

Footsteps.

"Ava? Are you alright?"

Chloe. Of course. She wouldn't miss an opportunity to gloat.

She glided onto the terrace, Ethan a silent shadow behind her, ostensibly to "protect" her, but I knew he was there to witness her victory lap.

"Just peachy, Chloe," I said, not turning around.

"That necklace is stunning, isn't it?" she cooed, moving to stand beside me at the railing. "I wonder who my mysterious admirer could be. Someone incredibly generous. And with impeccable taste."

She glanced sideways at Ethan, who remained impassive, but I saw the slight tightening around his eyes. He was enjoying this.

"He must care for you very deeply," Ethan said, his voice a low murmur, ostensibly to Chloe, but loud enough for me to hear.

My hands clenched into fists.

"He must," Chloe agreed, sighing dramatically. "It's all so overwhelming. All these beautiful things... just for me."

She then turned to Ethan, her voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "Ethan, you've been so quiet tonight. What do you think of all this? Do you think... do you think he might be someone I know?"

I couldn't listen to this anymore.

"Are you quite finished?" I snapped, turning to face them. "Your little performance is nauseating."

Chloe's eyes widened, tears welling up instantly. "Ava! Why are you being so mean? I was just sharing my excitement!"

"Excitement?" I scoffed. "Or are you just enjoying rubbing my nose in it?"

Ethan stepped forward slightly. "Miss Monroe, perhaps you're upset about the auction-"

"Upset?" I laughed, a harsh, brittle sound. "Why would I be upset? Because my bodyguard, a man I trusted, is secretly a billionaire who's using his fortune to publicly humiliate me and woo my manipulative half-sister? No, not upset at all."

Chloe gasped, looking from me to Ethan, her face a mask of shocked innocence. "Ethan? A billionaire? Ava, what are you talking about?"

Ethan's expression remained neutral, but a muscle pulsed in his jaw. He knew I knew.

"Oh, don't play dumb, Chloe," I said. "And you," I turned to Ethan, "your devotion is truly touching. Tell me, does Alexander Knight approve of his son spending millions on a social-climbing nobody?"

His eyes narrowed. "My father's opinions are his own. My actions are my own."

"And your affections, apparently, are for her," I gestured dismissively at Chloe.

Chloe started to sob, delicate, heart-wrenching sobs. "Ava, how can you say such cruel things? Ethan has always been so kind to both of us!"

I watched Ethan. His gaze softened as he looked at Chloe, a flicker of concern in his eyes. Then he looked back at me, his expression hardening once more into cold disapproval.

There it was again. That stark contrast. Tenderness for her, censure for me.

It solidified something cold and hard in my chest.

This was a game I couldn't win, because he was already on her side.

And he would believe every lie she spun.