The Real Heiress Is Coming Back (Hannah Carter) novel Chapter 63

Chapter 63

Before setting out for the Scepter House, Hannah made a brief stop at the suburban villa to change into more appropriate attire before joining Candy in her chauffeured van.

During the ride, Candy fluttered her impossibly long lashes and turned to Hannah. “Are you sure you don’t want to invite your uncle? Wouldn’t it be nice to have him foot the bill for once?”

“No need. I’ve got it covered.” Though her tone remained neutral, she couldn’t help thinking, ‘He’s probably busy charming some other woman right now.

Besides, she had no intention of letting Barnaby learn any more about her than necessary.

“You’re approaching this all wrong, Hannah,” Candy chided, wagging a perfectly manicured finger. “A woman shouldn’t appear so independent. You need to show some vulnerability. That’s how you make a man want to take care of you.”

She sighed dramatically, “And while it’s wonderful that you’re financially independent, you shouldn’t let it show. Look at me. All I attract are men who expect me to support them.

“They’re sweet, of course, but sometimes I wonder if they see me or just my bank account. Is it too much to ask for a normal relationship?”

Hannah’s

gaze drifted over Candy’s appearance, the glittering white diamond hairpin, the matching 25-carat pink diamond earrings, the rare red diamond necklace, the custom-made designer gown, the massive 150- carat diamond ring, and the exquisite jade bracelet adorning her wrist.

“You could start by removing some of those diamonds,” Hannah suggested dryly. “And maybe break that habit of buying drinks for everyone in the bar.”

“I could work on the free drinks,” Candy conceded, “but the diamonds stay. They’re part of my identity.”

She gazed lovingly at her ring and caressed it. “Besides, I’ve already toned it down considerably. Just one ring today. There was a time I wore ten at once…”

Their conversation continued until the vehicle arrived at the Scepter House.

The ancient building stood adjacent to the black market district, its palatial architecture reminiscent of royal residences.

What truly distinguished it, however, was its reputation for auctioning the world’s most extraordinary

treasures.

The identity of its founder remained a subject of speculation. Some claimed it was established by the black market’s creator, while others whispered of a mysterious organization pulling the strings.

The only certainty was that formidable power stood behind the Scepter House.

Tonight, the entrance blazed with light as luxury vehicles crowded the approach. Security personnel maintained barriers, keeping the press at a respectful distance,

True to its commitment to privacy and security, the Scepter House permitted no outside vehicles beyond the checkpoint, admitting only verified guests into its hallowed halls.

Candy’s limousine trailed a Rolls-Royce through the evening traffic. As Hannah moved to exit the vehicle, her eyes caught the distinctive license plate ahead: Thole888888.

She recognized it immediately. The customized plate belonged exclusively to the Thole family.

While she had expected some Thole family members to appear at the auction, coming face-to-face with them felt unnervingly coincidental.

Her gaze sharpened as she watched the scene unfold. A woman in her thirties was assisting an elderly lady from the luxury car. The older woman moved with grace despite her silver hair, every inch the aristocratic matriarch.

There was no mistaking their identities. It was Esther Thole, Leopold’s widow, and beside her was Iris Thole, Edmund’s daughter.

“The Obsidian Pearl must be quite the treasure if it’s drawn even Mrs. Esther Thole,” Candy remarked.

When Hannah remained silent, she glanced back and noticed Hannah’s icy stare fixed intently on the two

women.

“Should we wait for them to go in first?” she suggested quietly.

Though unaware of what Hannah had endured in the past, Candy knew all too well her deep-seated resentment toward the Thole family.

“No,” Hannah replied firmly. She withdrew her gaze and secured the gold half-mask she had prepared earlier before stepping out of the car.

Brynlock in mid-October was already growing cold.

Draped in a striking crimson cloak and wearing the golden mask, Hannah stood out vividly against the uniformly suited security personnel.

Yet her dramatic appearance harmonized strangely with the palace’s opulent architecture, as if she were part of its world.

After their invitations were verified, a female attendant led them inside.

Ahead, Esther moved slowly with age, supported by Iris.

When their guide politely excused herself to pass the older pair, Esther acknowledged her with a gracious

nod.

Just then, a flash of crimson swept past, and Esther paused, her gaze instinctively drawn to the retreating red figure.

“Grandma? Is something wrong?” Iris asked, noticing her distraction.

“Nothing, dear,” Esther replied, collecting herself. “But I recall someone mentioning that the Nameless Healer attended the International Medical Symposium in a crimson cloak and golden mask…”

“You think that was them?” Iris looked up abruptly, but the crimson figure had already vanished around the

corridor.

They had come for the Obsidian Pearl, but the rumored presence of the Nameless Healer offered another compelling reason to attend, a chance to connect with the elusive genius.

“I’m not certain,” Esther said, shaking her head gently. Just then, she gestured for Iris to look behind them.

Another attendant was escorting a second figure clad in an identical crimson cloak and golden mask, passing

them in silence.

The auction was held in the seven-story tower that formed the centerpiece of the palace.

Each level contained private viewing suites, with the floor number explicitly indicating the guest’s social standing. The higher the floor, the more prestigious the occupant.

Hannah was assigned to the fifth floor while Candy’s suite was on the fourth. Not wanting to be alone, Candy slipped upstairs to join Hannah after their attendant departed.

As Hannah opened the door, she noticed an attendant guiding another woman down the corridor, a figure similarly dressed in a crimson cloak and golden mask.

The party stopped at Room 509, adjacent to Hannah’s suite, and the masked woman was ushered inside.

Their eyes met briefly, and Hannah detected a distinct unease in the other woman’s gaze before she quickly looked away and disappeared into her room.

“Did she copy your style, or is this just a coincidence?” Candy whispered, already moving toward the door to confront the impersonator.

The golden mask and crimson cloak had become Hannah’s signature look at international medical conferences, an unmistakable part of her public identity.

While they couldn’t forbid others from similar attire, the deliberate imitation at such an elite gathering felt intentionally provocative.

“The auction’s starting. Let’s not draw attention to ourselves,” Hannah cautioned, gently restraining Candy.

This brazen impersonation was clearly calculated, and Hannah intended to discover what the copycat hoped to gain.

Though irritated, Candy’s displeasure soon faded as murmurs rippled through the tower.

Taking their seats, they joined other guests in gazing upward at the seventh level.

“My god, the top suite is occupied!” Candy breathed in astonishment.