Unwanted Blood (Harper) novel Chapter 101

Chapter 101

Harper’s POV

The auction started on schedule.

The auctioneer was a thin man with a polished voice and a practiced cadence. The first lot was a landscape oil painting-rolling hills under a cloudy sky, nothing extraordinary. The starting price was low. A woman in the front row lifted her paddle almost immediately and took it for a price no one else bothered to contest.

I sat quietly and watched. The dark fabric of the gown felt heavy on my shoulders. I adjusted my posture slightly in the velvet seat and waited.

The second lot was wheeled out quickly.

The cloth was lifted. A pair of emerald stud earrings rested on the black velvet of the display tray. They caught the chandelier light and threw it back-warm, green, alive. The clarity was exceptional. Even from several rows back, I could see the depth of the stones.

I didn’t say anything. But beside me, Grayson lifted his paddle.

“Two hundred thousand.”

His voice was level. The woman in the front row turned her head, considered, and raised her paddle again. “Twenty one hundred thousand.”

Grayson’s paddle went up before the auctioneer had finished acknowledging her bid.

“Twenty two.”

I glanced at him. He stared straight ahead, looking as though victory was already his.

Behind us, Logan let out a quiet sound-half snort, half chuckle. Then his paddle went up too.

“Twenty three.”

Grayson turned his head slowly. He looked at Logan. “What are you doing?”

Logan didn’t even look at him. His eyes were on the stage. “I want them. Is that a problem?”

“You don’t even like jewelry.”

0.00%

10:03

Chapter 101

“I like them today.”

288 Vouchers

Grayson’s jaw worked. He turned back to the front and lifted his paddle again. “Twenty five.”

Logan. “Twenty six.”

Grayson. “Thirty.”

The woman in the front row had dropped out after twenty five. The room went quiet for a second as the auctioneer repeated the number, then brought the hammer down.

“Sold. Thirty hundred thousand dollars. To the gentleman in the third row.”

up,

Logan sat back with his arms crossed, looking thoroughly displeased. Grayson stood walked up to the front, collected the small velvet box, and walked back.

He didn’t open it. He even didn’t look at it. He turned, held it out to me, and set it in my palm.

“Put it with you,” he said. “I’ll lose it if I keep it.”

His voice was casual. He was looking at the stage. But I saw the faint edge of red creeping up from his collar to the tip of his ear.

I closed my fingers around the box. “Thanks,” I said quietly.

A smile instantly spread across Grayson’s face.

After that, the floodgates opened.

The next lot was a soft, charcoal grey cashmere shawl. Logan picked it up without hesitation. When I raised an eyebrow at him, he said, “The air conditioning in this room is too cold. You’ll catch a chill.”

I didn’t argue. I just added it to my lap.

Then Colton won a vintage illustrated book. He handed it to me without ceremony. “For the community centre craft class. Reference material.”

Ryder got a black barrel, gold nib fountain pen, expensive without being ostentatious. “You’re always saying the pens at the community centre don’t work properly. Take this one.”

Each item came with a reason. Each reason was perfectly logical. Each recipient was me

358745

10.03

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify