Betrayed by the Father Reborn in His Rival's Arms novel Chapter 300

The mineral striation on this stone was extremely fine and faint. Without looking closely, one wouldn't notice it at all. But its trajectory was beautiful, extending from the top of the stone all the way down the side, as if someone had used a delicate brush to paint a hidden motif on the dull gray crust.

"That one," Madeline said, pointing to the gray stone in the corner.

Quentin followed her finger, raising an eyebrow slightly before the corners of his lips curled up.

He reached out, grabbed the stone, and flipped it over. When he saw the mineral striation on the back, a flash of surprise crossed his eyes.

"A piece from The Zenith Mines."

He leisurely recounted the stone's origins, his tone sounding as if he were reading a mundane financial report.

Then he looked up at her. "Are you sure you want this one?"

A buyer with gold-rimmed glasses standing nearby overheard them and couldn't resist interjecting.

"Miss, this piece has already been shaved. It's solid white inside; there's a high probability it's completely worthless.

If you want to play, picking an entirely uncut stone would be better than this."

He spoke politely, but the disdain in his tone was thinly veiled. He clearly viewed Madeline as a clueless trophy girlfriend brought out by a billionaire to see the world.

Madeline wavered slightly under his scrutiny and instinctively looked at Quentin.

But Quentin just smiled. It wasn't a broad smile—just a slight curve of his lips—but the amusement in his eyes practically overflowed.

He placed the stone in Madeline's hands, then lifted his gaze to the man in the gold-rimmed glasses, speaking in a slow, measured drawl.

"Whatever she picks is the best."

The man in the glasses felt a chill run down his spine from that single look. He laughed awkwardly and backed away.

"How much is it?" Madeline flipped the price tag over and drew a sharp breath when she saw the number—eighty thousand dollars.

A dull, condemned rock cost hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Her instinct was to put the stone back, but Quentin caught her wrist.

Not out of shyness, but shocked by the undisguised arrogance in his words.

She looked up and glared at him, only to be met with his half-smiling gaze, a gaze that clearly said—*What are you afraid of? You have me.*

"Shall we cut it?" General Diallo walked over, rubbing his hands together in excitement.

Quentin didn't say a word; he simply nodded at the stonecutter nearby. The stonecutter took the rock and asked out of habit, "How do you want it cut?"

"From the shaved edge down, peel it in thin slices," Quentin commanded on Madeline's behalf.

The stonecutter secured the rock and pressed the switch on the cutting machine. The ear-piercing screech of friction instantly drowned out all conversation in the hall.

Everyone unconsciously turned their gaze over—a rock from The Zenith Mines that had already been shaved and declared dead.

What could possibly come out of it?

Most of them were waiting for a joke.