The Real Heiress Is Coming Back (Hannah Carter) novel Chapter 64

Chapter 64

The seventh floor contained only one viewing box reserved exclusively for the Master of the Scepter House.

Its perennial vacancy had become legend, making tonight’s occupancy all the more remarkable. The mysterious Master had finally appeared.

The auction hall buzzed with excitement.

“The Obsidian Pearl must be extraordinary to draw out even the reclusive Master,” Candy observed, rising briefly in an attempt to glimpse the figure above.

When the elevated suite revealed nothing, she settled back into her chair with a sigh. “Hannah, your chances just dwindled. Since you never cared for that man anyway, perhaps it’s for the best?”

The Master’s presence meant he could double any winning bid at whim.

While Candy fretted, Hannah remained perfectly composed, leaning back in her chair and scrolling through her phone with unshakable confidence.

“Hannah, I have to ask… just how deep are your pockets tonight?” Candy finally whispered, unable to contain her curiosity.

Hannah was, after all, the only attendee completely unfazed by the Master’s appearance.

“That depends on where the bidding ends,” Hannah replied evenly.

“Wait, are you telling me you’ll secure funds mid-auction?” Candy’s eyes widened.

“Want to know the secret?” Hannah glanced up, a sly smile playing on her lips.

Candy nodded eagerly.

“Bid as aggressively as you want tonight. The bill’s already covered,” Hannah said, tilting her phone slightly.

Seeing the cunning curve of Hannah’s lips, Candy suddenly understood, thinking, ‘Some unfortunate soul has just walked right into her web.'”

In the adjacent suite 509, the woman who had just entered poured herself a glass of cold water.

Removing her mask revealed Daisy’s delicate features beneath.

She had come to the auction not for the legendary Obsidian Pearl of traditional medicine, a field she knew little about, but because Barnaby would be attending.

The unexpected appearance of the Nameless Healer, however, had complicated matters.

‘I thought she was still overseas,’ Daisy mused, recalling their encounter at last year’s National Medical

Under the conference chairman’s introduction, she had watched the enigmatic figure in crimson cloak and golden mask command the stage while sharing medical insights with effortless authority, a memory that still filled her with profound admiration.

“Welcome to the Scepter House auction.” The host’s voice resonated through the hall, drawing Daisy from her

reverie.

Setting down her glass, she moved to the viewing balcony and took her seat with practiced composure.

Her appearance immediately caught the attention of the female manager overseeing the seventh level.

“Your Excellency,” the manager addressed the masked figure in the master’s throne, “the Nameless Healer appears to be seated between those two women in crimson. Should I extend an invitation for her to join us?”

The man behind the demon mask lounged with casual elegance, his black boots resting on the table. His right hand draped over the armrest, the dragon-engraved ring on his index finger gleaming, the unmistakable symbol of the Scepter House’s authority.

“That won’t be necessary.” His voice emerged as a low, resonant vibration from beneath the mask.

The manager felt an unexpected flutter at the sound.

After eight years serving the Scepter House, she was finally meeting its mysterious master. She had always imagined an elderly gentleman, but reality presented something entirely different.

Though concealed behind the mask, every visible detail, the piercing intensity of his eyes, the sharp jawline, the distinct Adam’s apple, his powerful physique, and that captivating voice suggested a man of extraordinary

presence.

Eager to impress during the Master’s rare appearance, the manager ventured further. “Given how clusive the Nameless Healer usually is, this might be a unique opportunity to establish contact for future needs.”

“Since when do you dictate my actions?” The man’s gaze shifted, his eyes glinting with a frosty sharpness that struck deep into her soul.

A violent shudder ran through the manager’s body. Before she could react, the broad-shouldered bodyguard in sunglasses had seized her by the scruff of the neck and unceremoniously tossed her out of the room.

“Get her out of the Master’s sight,” the bodyguard instructed the guards at the door.

With a dismissive clap of his hands, he stepped back inside and addressed the man with deference. “It’s handled, Mr. Thole.”

Barnaby responded with a noncommittal grunt.

The auction was now underway. Shifting in his seat, he picked up his phone and navigated to his conversation with Hannah.

Their chat log was still frozen from that afternoon, displaying his last message. [Ask nicely, and I might send

She had left him on read.

A flicker of irritation crossed his mind as he typed out a new message.

On the fifth level, none of the preceding auction items had captured Hannah’s interest. Her objective was singular: the Obsidian Pearl.

With her earphones secured, she immersed herself in a match-three puzzle game, determined to wait out the proceedings.

A notification banner abruptly interrupted her gameplay. It was a WhatsApp message from Barnaby.

Barnaby: [Where are you?]

The question triggered an immediate surge of adrenaline. Had he discovered her presence at the auction?

Maintaining perfect composure, she scanned the surrounding seating tiers.

Her view encompassed the fifth level and those below, but the exclusive sixth floor above remained obstructed from sight.

Given their previous discussions about the pearl’s significance, she knew Barnaby would have received the auction catalogue. He had to be here somewhere.

Rather than answer, she deflected. [And where are you?]

Though confident her disguise was effective, pinpointing his location seemed prudent.

Barnaby: [At Skycrest House. Aren’t you coming back?]

The response ignited frustration rather than relief.

Had she not sufficiently emphasized how crucial the Obsidian Pearl was for his condition? Or was his absence indicative of his indifference toward recovery?

Barnaby: [I asked where you are.]

Irritated, she offered a flippant response: [Scott Villa.]

His video call invitation flashed across her screen the instant her message was delivered.

Heart lurching, she swiped to decline and hastily typed. [Can’t talk. Showering.]

Behind his mask, Barnaby’s lips curved in satisfaction. The oppressive mood that had plagued him since their last conversation finally began to dissipate.

Without the Obsidian Pearl, Hannah remained bound to him, her independence as elusive as ever.

As the auction accelerated toward its conclusion, the auctioneer’s voice resonated through the hall. “Ladies

and gentlemen, we present our final masterpiece, the legendary Obsidian Pearl!”

An attendant ascended the platform, placing a velvet-lined case upon the display podium.

Integrated cameras initiated a seamless rotation, projecting magnified, crystalline details onto every private viewing tablet.

The case opened, revealing an egg-sized, perfectly transparent crystal formation.

Suspended within its fluid core drifted a single black pearl, a natural marvel of exceptional clarity and radiance, the fabled Obsidian Pearl in all its glory.

田

AD

Comment

Send gift

No Ads