Chapter 252: An Auction
Vivian tossed and turned restlessly that night, unable to sleep as Mathew’s proposition played over and over in her mind. On one hand, the offer was almost too good to be true – all of her debts wiped away, Maya’s medical costs covered indefinitely, enough money to ensure her niece wanted for nothing. It was as though he was auditioning for fairy god parent position or sugar daddy.
But at what cost? Vivian had seen firsthand the brutality of Mathew’s world, the violence linked to his shadowy underworld dealings. Could she really tie herself to that life, even if it meant security for Maya? What if she had to have her hand cut off one day? What if she has to cut a person’s arm? She shook her head. What was she thinking. Money was the only thing she should consider. She was not sure if the surgery would go on if she rejected his offer.
As the first rays of sunlight peeked through her curtains like a stalker, Vivian made her decision. For Maya’s sake, for their future, she would accept Mathew’s offer. The little girl’s life and health were her top priorities, no matter what personal sacrifices had to be made. Is it not just an arm?
Sliding out of bed, Vivian walked over to the small desk in the corner of her dingy studio apartment. There, she retrieved the glossy black card Mathew had dropped on the hospital desk. a number was printed in sleek silver lettering.
After staring at the card for several long moments, she pulled on jeans and a t–shirt and headed out into the city streets. Making her way to the high–end shopping mall nearby, Vivian wandered the various stores until she found a top brand she liked.
“I need something that looks like I could order to have an arm choped off,” she told the snooty saleswoman, who eyed her doubtfully. Vivian pulled out Mathew’s black card, raising an eyebrow in challenge.
Two hours and several thousand dollars later, Vivian emerged from the boutique in a nice black and white dress. She looked every inch the best friend of money and worn enemy of
poverty.
Standing aside, she pulled out the black business card once more and tapped in the number printed on it. The line rang once before a smooth male voice answered.
“Hello, Ms. Greyson. I take it you’ve made your decision?”
She could hear the smirk in Mathew’s tone and scowled. “Just tell me where to meet you.”
“No need. I’ll have my people come to you. Front entrance of the mall in fifteen minutes.” The line went dead.
True to his word, a sleek black sedan pulled up precisely fifteen minutes later, Mathew’s bodyguard Joe emerging to open the rear door for her. As she slid into the leather seat, Joe
152 An Autron
gave her a respectful nod.
“Ms. Greyson,” Joe greeted, “Mr. Shaw has instructed. You are to be attending an auction at
Enclave Hotel.”
Vivian turns cold and only hums a reply before entering the car.
Joe’s eyes widened slightly at that but he simply nodded. He was not sure if she was already in
character.
Twenty minutes later, they pulled up to a high–rise luxury hotel in the city’s ritziest district. Joe ushered her out of the car, two more bulky bodyguards falling into step beside them as they entered the gleaming lobby.
The immaculately dressed hotel manager was waiting for them, clasping his hands respectfully as they approached.
“Mrs. Shaw, we’ve been expecting you. Right this way please.”
Vivian kept her expression neutral as they were led away from the main lobby and down a secluded hallway toward a set of double doors. Only her eyes betrayed her inner nerves as they flitted around, taking in the gilded surroundings and the weaponry discreetly holstered beneath the bodyguards‘ suit jackets.
The doors opened into a plush private viewing room, clearly designed for wealthy guests to observe events unseen. A huge Tv could covered the entire wall allowing her see what seemed to be an empty auction room, with rows of empty seats facing a small stage.
“This is where you’ll be viewing the auction from, Mrs. Shaw. Can I get you anything.” The manager was overly attentive, clearly well–practiced at providing every amenity. She would have thought he was the perfect staff if she had not noticed his shaky hands. She felt like sighing. This name Shaw sure had a way with making people scared.
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” a new voice answered smoothly.
Vivian turned to see a sharply dressed man in his 40s entering the room, extending a hand toward her. “Mrs Shaw, I’m Levi Abrams. I’ll be your guide for today’s events.”
Vivian glanced at his hand before looking away. She tool a seat while the guards stared him
down till he backed away.
As Vivian settled into the oversize armchair, Levi snapped his fingers and two men in suits entered, placing a small table beside her chair. One poured a glass of deep red wine and set out a plate of fresh fruits and cheeses, as if they were in a 5–star restaurant rather than a viewing
room.
“There’s a menu listing all the items to be auctioned today,” Levi told her, handing her a leather bound folder.
Vivian stared at the list, her stomach turning queasily. This was all so blatantly illegal, so far
Chapter An Auction
beyond what she ever expected when agreeing to ‘marry‘ Mathew. She scanned the listings half–heartedly, checking off a Ming vase and an antique revolver in the hopes of appearing convincingly engaged. She had already gotten a list fo things to bid for in the car, but she was pretending to be interested.
“I have people who will handle the room’s bidding. Just let me know what it is you want and don’t worry about the technicalities..”
Unable to contain her discomfort, Vivian closed the leather folder and looked away from the windows, sipping her wine. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she pulled it out gratefully, relieved at any distraction. She kept to her charcter at all times, barely speaking unless she wanted to and it was geeting tiring.
It was her high school group chat, filled with chatter about an upcoming 10–year reunion she hadn’t even been aware of. Vivian scrolled through the messages passively until a new one from Lily Weston, her former classmate, caught her eye.
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