Adrian Cole Return of the Lost Heir novel Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Catherine’s lips curved into a knowing smile.

“Yours? Well, let’s see how you can get it, loser!” He snapped, already planning to teach him a harsh lesson later.

The rest of the guests were just as eager to witness the spectacle. They were already convinced that Adrian’s words earlier had been nothing but empty bravado. Tonight, the auction would strip him bare. They wanted to see him embarrassed, to watch Catherine Moretti regret ever defending him.

The lights in the hall dimmed slightly as the auction began, casting a spotlight on the stage. The auctioneer stepped forward, his voice booming with practiced energy. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to this prestigious evening. Let us begin with our first item…”

One after another, treasures were unveiled: rare calligraphy, exquisite jade ornaments, pieces of art centuries old. The crowd came alive, voices rising with bids and counterbids. Paddles lifted swiftly, the excitement tangible.

Adrian remained seated, his expression calm, detached. He sipped his wine leisurely, forked a piece of delicacy from his plate, and listened to Catherine’s low remarks as though the auction was background noise.

Not once did he raise his paddle.

Lucas caught this and smirked triumphantly. Just as I thought. He’s all bark, no bite. Without Catherine’s name shielding him, he wouldn’t even have the courage to open his mouth.

Determined to show off, Lucas raised his paddle frequently, bidding on several pieces of jewelry. Every win inflated his pride further. When he presented a necklace to Elena, the crowd erupted in polite admiration.

“What a generous man Mr. Brown is.”

“Elena is truly fortunate to have found such a husband.”

Their flattery fed his ego, but it wasn’t enough. What truly mattered was Elena’s reaction. He wanted her eyes fixed only on him, her smile reserved only for him. Yet as he turned to look, his satisfaction faltered.

Elena wasn’t looking at the jewelry. She wasn’t even looking at him. Her gaze, fleeting but unmistakable, strayed again toward Adrian.

And Adrian wasn’t even acknowledging her. He leaned in toward Catherine, saying something that drew a rare smile from the formidable woman. Catherine Moretti—aloof, untouchable—was laughing with him, her hand brushing his arm as though they were old acquaintances.

Jealousy stabbed through Elena, sharp and unexpected. She clenched her fists in her lap. Why does it hurt, seeing him like this? She forced herself to look back at Lucas, but the unease in her chest only grew.

Lucas, too, noticed the shift in her expression. His chest burned with rage. She’s still watching him? Even now? But he swallowed his anger, masking it with another smile as the auctioneer’s voice rose to introduce the final and most anticipated item.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the host declared, “we now present the crown jewel of tonight’s auction. An antique ring of extraordinary value, passed down through generations and preserved in the private collection of Chairman Armstrong, president of our city’s Business Association.”

The crowd hushed as the ring was carried onto the stage. The velvet box opened, revealing a golden band inlaid with a deep crimson stone that seemed almost to glow under the light. Its aura was undeniable—mysterious, commanding, as though it carried centuries of history within it.

Gasps rippled through the hall.

“What a treasure…”

“I’ve only heard rumors of this piece, but to see it with my own eyes…”

Elena’s breath caught. Even she couldn’t deny the ring’s allure.

But it was Adrian whose reaction was most striking.

The moment his eyes landed on the ring, something shifted in him. His calm expression hardened with intensity. A strange sense of destiny stirred within him, pulling at his very soul. That ring wasn’t just an antique. It was calling to him. It belonged to him.

The bidding opened.

“Three million!” a voice called.

“Three point five!”

“Four!”

The words cut through the hall like a blade.

Silence fell instantly. Heads whipped toward Adrian.

For the first time all evening, he had raised his paddle. His expression was calm, his eyes locked on the ring with unwavering determination. He didn’t look at Lucas. He didn’t look at Elena. He didn’t even acknowledge the stares that bore into him from all sides.

It was as if nothing else existed in that moment but him and the ring.

The crowd erupted in whispers.

“Ten million?!”

“Impossible—he doesn’t have that kind of money!”

“Is he trying to humiliate himself?”

Elena’s heart lurched violently in her chest. The certainty in his voice, the weight in his gaze—it didn’t feel like a bluff. It felt real.

Lucas’s composure shattered, his smile twisting into a scowl. Rage burned in his veins. Ten million? He dares? His nails dug into the armrest of his chair as he forced a hollow laugh.

“He’s bluffing. Catherine must be bankrolling him. Without her, he wouldn’t even be allowed in this hall.”

But no one was laughing.

For the first time that evening, the mockery had died. The atmosphere had shifted.

“Ten million,” the auctioneer repeated, stunned.

And every pair of eyes was now fixed on Adrian Cole.