The 24th Century Warrior Became a Fake Heiress novel Chapter 351

Chapter 351 The Masquerade Salon

The patrons coming and going were exclusively the ultra–wealthy and powerful.

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Noah hadn’t ridden his superbike today, arriving instead in a chauffeured Wayne family vehicle.

The car glided into an opulent subterranean parking garage.

Handing Isabella a black velvet masquerade mask, Noah said, “Here, put this on.”

With that, he stepped out of the vehicle first.

A matching white mask concealed his face, forming a sharp monochrome contrast beside hers.

The two made their way toward an unmarked exit in the parking structure.

Noah whispered in her ear, “There’s an ultra–exclusive underground auction held here. Wait, what’s with that look? It’s legal, just marketing theatrics from the organizers, though they genuinely source incredible rarities.

“None of these lots circulate on the open market.

“The broker behind this club wields immense influence, able to procure things nonexistent on public shelves–strictly lawful, of course, as long as documentation is airtight.

“The greatest perk of bidding here is never having to worry about counterfeits or shady

provenance.

“If a lot appears on this stage, its legal lineage is guaranteed.

“Because of that, our crowd loves hunting here for exotic oddities.

“Still, landing certain lots is brutal since demand is insane and nobody here lacks cash, making these masks mandatory to preserve order.

“Inside, you’re free to leverage every possible advantage to sway the seller.

“As long as the seller accepts and your bid clears the house reserve, the prize is yours.”

Hearing his explanation, Isabella arched a brow and remarked, “Such an eccentric set of rules.”

“Tell me about it.”

Shrugging lightly, Noah explained, “You know how many influential dynasties run around this

town.

“And not everyone plays by the book.

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Chapter 351 The Masquerade Salon

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“To prevent bids from freezing out of political fear, the venue instituted this protocol.

“Only the house directors know your true identity, keeping everyone else in the dark.

“As long as a consignment is legitimate, the house doesn’t even mandate revealing your name.

“For buyers like us, meeting the seller’s price or trade terms closes the deal, regardless of who sits across the floor.

“Nobody can bypass the organizers to uncover who you are.

“Even if they did, purchases here are legally airtight, leaving rivals no room to hassle you.”

Noah laid out the protocol in meticulous detail.

Isabella nodded thoughtfully, recognizing the exceptional appeal of such an establishment.

After all, Caporia was teeming with hidden power brokers and old money.

Being forced to yield an item to an influential rival out of political etiquette was endlessly frustrating.

Conventional public auction halls naturally disregarded those social sensitivities.

Yet this private salon offered clever theatrical flair and exquisite execution.

Such anonymity inevitably drew high–caliber, legitimate heirlooms into its catalogs.

When old dynasties fell from grace, they often needed to quietly liquidate assets or private collections.

Selling at public galas fetched handsome prices, yet flaunting sudden liquidity painted targets on their backs.

Consigning here provided infinitely greater security.

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