The Love I Begged For Was Never Real novel Chapter 263

Inside the vault, Liam York shadowed them closely, a thick leather ledger gripped in his hand.

Nora's eyes locked onto a central display featuring an ancient inlay blueprint.

The folio documented long-lost royal splicing techniques, and she couldn't help but linger, her brain rapidly modeling the architectural framework in 3D.

"Wrap it up."

Gideon's command cut through the air instantly, leaving zero room for debate.

Liam immediately scribbled a note in the ledger and flashed a quick signal to a nearby gallery staff member.

Nora whipped her head around, staring at Gideon.

"Mr. Hayes, I was just window shopping, mentally dissecting the load-bearing stress points."

She tried to slam the brakes on his chaotic shopping spree. "These exhibits are absurdly overpriced. Buying them for a private collection is a catastrophic waste of capital."

Gideon stood beside her, his gaze dangerously calm.

"If it caught your eye, you're taking it home for a deep dive. Keep it in the house, and you can analyze it for the next ten years if you want."

Gideon interrupted her smoothly, snapping a look at his assistant. "Liam, handle the paperwork. The Hayes Group isn't exactly scraping pennies for a few vintage sketches."

Nora swallowed her protests, totally shut down.

Over the next grueling thirty minutes, the second Nora's gaze lingered on any blueprint or raw stone for more than three seconds, or if she dropped a casual compliment about the craftsmanship, Gideon didn't even glance at the tags. He simply commanded Liam to bag it all.

He was essentially treating this ultra-exclusive vault like his personal walk-in closet, pillaging at will.

"This uncut Ceylon sapphire—the color grading is notoriously elusive."

Nora pointed through the glass at the raw mineral section.

His bony fingers rapidly punched digits into the calculator, the loud clicking echoing through the vast hall. With every skyrocketing zero, the curator felt another violent spasm in his chest.

These were the crown jewels of his collection! He had burned through the latter half of his life and exhausted a small army of overseas contacts just to hunt them down.

Some of these classical manuscripts were absolutely singular—he had intended to keep them permanently archived as the gallery's legacy.

"Mr. Hayes... this 1895 silk design draft is a direct relic from the French Royal Court..."

Mr. Hallowell tried to salvage at least one piece, his voice thick with agony.

Gideon didn't even bother looking up. He aggressively scrawled a figure on a check massive enough to instantly bankrupt a mid-sized corporation, ripped it off with a sharp snap, and slid it across the counter between two fingers.

"Is this enough?"

Staring at the blinding avalanche of zeros on the check, Mr. Hallowell brutally choked down the rest of his protests.