Chapter 2

The blind auction officially began.

The giant crystal chandelier spilled cold light over the stage, glazing each antique in the shine of money.

Sterling sat upright in a purple velvet-backed chair like a king passing judgment on all things.

For the first few lots, he didn’t even bother with a loupe.

A casual glance was enough for him to issue unquestionable valuations.

“Eighteenth-century enamel watch. Twenty thousand pounds.”

“First French Empire brooch. Five thousand pounds.”

Each time he spoke, the room answered with thunderous applause and eager praise.

That absolute authority took shape in the air itself, pressing down hard enough to make breathing difficult.

Then a woman with a stricken expression stepped onto the display platform.

“That’s Mrs. Hughes,” my mentor murmured by my ear, pity in his voice. “The Hughes family used to be old Mayfair names. They’re nearly bankrupt now. All they have left is an empty ancestral house.”

Mrs. Hughes’s hands shook violently as she set a faded velvet case on the table.

The instant it opened, a low groan of disgust moved through the crowd.

Inside lay a Victorian necklace.

It had been stored terribly. The metal base had completely oxidized black and green, covered with ugly corrosion.

Worst of all was the center stone.

It looked like nothing more than a cheap piece of greasy industrial black glass.

Dull. Rough. Dead.

Sterling lifted his champagne and didn’t even bother to look at it directly.

One lazy glance from the corner of his eye, and he delivered his verdict.

“Mass-produced low-grade glass attached to a pile of oxidized scrap metal.”

He deliberately dragged out the words, saturated with lofty contempt.

“Industrial garbage with no restoration value. Estimated value: fifty pounds.”

“Take it away. Next.”

Fifty pounds.

The number dropped like a death sentence from a judge’s gavel.

Mrs. Hughes’s whole body shook. Tears spilled instantly from her eyes. Her knees nearly gave out beneath her.

“Master Sterling, please—please look at it once more! This was handed down from my great-grandmother—”

“Security, escort the lady down. Don’t let her dirty the stage,” Sterling cut in coldly.

The wealthy guests around us shook their heads and smirked, muttering about the pathetic decline of noble houses.

Mrs. Hughes stood frozen in place, choking on quiet sobs that pierced my ears like needles.

And then—

in that suffocating dead end, another voice exploded in my head.

Sharp.

Violent.

“Get this disgusting grime off me! Don’t lump me in with this cheap trash!”

The voice came from the “black glass.”

It was furious—proud almost to the point of cruelty—and it rang so hard it hurt.

“I am a top-grade untreated Kashmir sapphire!”

“That idiot former owner coated me in this revolting disguise layer to prevent theft!”

“Wash it off! Get it off! This lowly darkness sickens me!”

I jerked my head up and locked onto the necklace.

A disguise layer?

My heart slammed in my chest.

I shut my eyes and drove my perception to the limit.

Yes.

Under that thick blackened surface, I could hear the bright, crystalline resonance of a top-grade gem.

This was a century of sleeping luxury.

A treasure that could drive all of London insane.

And this fossil who called himself Europe’s greatest appraiser was about to throw a peerless jewel into the trash as glass.

A desecration.

Not just an insult to the gemstone—

but a trampling of everything my father had believed appraisal was meant to be.

This was the same kind of arrogant misjudgment Sterling had once used to nail my father to the pillar of shame.

Mrs. Hughes closed the box in despair and turned to leave.

That motion snapped the final cord inside me.

The rage I had buried for years burned straight through what was left of reason.

I shoved away my mentor’s hand and strode out from the crowd.

“Wait.”

My voice rang across the hall without warning, slicing through the fading tail of the orchestra.

Every head in the room whipped toward me.

Shock. Disgust. Contempt.

Mrs. Hughes stopped and turned, staring in confusion.

“That isn’t low-grade glass.”

I pointed at the case in her hands and looked straight at Sterling on the platform.

“It’s a top-grade sapphire wrapped in a disguise coating.”

My voice wasn’t loud, but it carried the weight of certainty.

“Your appraisal is outrageously wrong.”

Silence.

The suffocating kind.

Then the room erupted into laughter so loud it rattled the air.

“An apprentice from the slums is lecturing Master Sterling on appraisal?”

“He’s not just a thief’s son—he’s completely insane!”

“Throw him out! Don’t let him pollute the air in here!”

The ridicule came at me like a tidal wave, trying to drown me where I stood.

Sterling’s face darkened instantly.

But instead of exploding, he smiled.

Coldly.

He wiped his hands with the handkerchief in slow, measured motions, as though he had just heard the most absurd joke in the world.

“It seems my earlier tolerance gave certain low-born trash the wrong idea.”

His gaze locked onto me like a serpent’s.

“You understand neither respect for age nor respect for class.”

He gave the silver cane a faint wave.

“Throw him out. If he resists, break his hands.”

Four security guards in black suits stepped out from the shadows at once.

Broad shoulders. Steady steps. Professional, emotionless movements.

They spread to encircle me.

My mentor covered his face in despair, trembling uncontrollably.

Mrs. Hughes backed away in terror, clutching the velvet case to her chest.

I was completely isolated at the center of that gleaming, elegant hall. All around me were indifferent, entertained faces from the elite. Not one voice rose for me.

The guards’ leather shoes struck the marble floor in heavy, deliberate beats as they closed in.

Pressure pressed from every direction like an airtight net.

A thousand accusing fingers.

Nowhere left to retreat.

Inside my sleeves, my fists clenched so hard my nails cut into my palms, sending sharp pain through me.

But I did not step back even half an inch.

My eyes stayed fixed on that sleeping piece of “black glass.”