Chapter 24
Philip
The scene made my gut clench like I’d swallowed broken glass. So I looked away disdainfully and moved through the crowd instead, looking for Kaylee who’d slipped away to leech on someone else.
The clink of glasses, the subtle scent of expensive cologne, and the soft classical music playing in the background grated on my nerves.
Drawing closer, I spotted her laughing and talking with some guy who looked like a sleazy douche raised with a silver spoon. His stupid gelled- back hair, fake tan, and polished shoes screamed mommy’s money. Most of the people at this gala inherited their family’s wealth. They’ve never worked a day in their lives.
I tapped Kaylee on the arm. She turned, her smile still perfectly in place like it had been surgically attached.
“Mr. Amos, please excuse me,” she said, flashing him a bright smile.
I pulled her through the crowd and into a corner, away from the glittering chandeliers and fake compliments.
“What the hell was that, Phillip?! That was Amos Markus–he owns one of the biggest fashion brands in Manhattan. He was talking to me about walking for his show next week. Whatever you have to say, better be worth it.”
She kept going on and on, rambling her usual nonsense, but that wasn’t what mattered right now. Her voice sounded like static in my ears- grating, pointless noise.
I pointed toward Olivia and Sebastian. “Over there.”
“Okay… what exactly am I supposed to be seeing? Besides the press pretending they care about Olivia because of Sebastian,” Kaylee said, folding her arms.
“I wonder what that skank is doing here anyway. She never follows Sebastian anywhere. Did he force her?” she said through gritted teeth, her eyes practically staring daggers into her ‘best friend.‘
“She doesn’t look like she’s pretending. Look closely, Kaylee.”
We both stared at Sebastian and Olivia. They looked like the perfect couple—the kind people write headlines about and fans flutter around. Cameras flashed. Lips curled into envy. I hated how the room bent toward them like they were gravity itself.
“Phillip, calm down. Olivia’s just putting on a show for the cameras. And please don’t tell me you’re catching feelings for her. Are you jealous of Sebastian?” she asked, one eyebrow arched, fists clenching as she looked from the so–called couple to me.
Of course I was jealous of Sebastian. Who wouldn’t be? He had the life I always wanted–money, admiration, power. Everything came easy for him. While I? I had to build every inch of myself from the ground up.
Kaylee kept watching me, waiting for an answer.
“Of course not!” I lied. “I just want her to stay focused and not be distracted by Sebastian.”
The Olivia I knew hated her husband. There was nothing to worry about. Everything was going according to plan.
“You’re right.” I sighed in the end. “Olivia is too wrapped around my finger to mess things up. I was overreacting,”
“Good. Now, don’t come near me again. This is a high–profile event, and I don’t want the press spotting us. If they do, Olivia could pitch things together in that tiny brain of hers and probably find out–and everything we’ve worked for will be ruined.”
I nodded, and she walked away after blowing me a discreet kiss.
“Who’s he?” I heard some women behind me whisper. I knew they were talking about me. I didn’t turn around. I waited, petty enough to want to hear it all. The thirst to be envied was a wound I wore proudly.
“He’s damn fine,” one of them giggled.
I smirked and took a glass of wine from a passing waiter. The crystal felt cold in my hand, but the fire in my gut made it irrelevant.
“He is, but he’s just some small fry who recently got into real estate, No one really knows who he is yet.”
I gripped the glass tighter, lips pressed in a thin line at their words. Fucking socialites. Their ignorance was so loud, it echoed.
“He’s just a shadow when you stack him next to Sebastian Lancaster. Sebastian is carved straight out of every woman’s fantasy. God knows why he settled for Olivia–the walking disaster that she is. I’d trade my soul for a night with him!”
What did they see in Sebastian? Always the honorable one, just because he walked away from his family’s fortune to build something on kie
Chapter 24
+25 Bonus
own.
I call that stupidity. His family was so rich that he’d never need to lift a finger. But no, he wanted to prove something.
I hated being compared to him.
But soon, I will have the power. Soon, they’ll speak my name with the same respect—if not more.
The Hamilton Project was the crown jewel everyone in real estate had their eyes on–prime land, rich history, and the potential to print money if done right.
A sprawling estate with endless possibilities… and just as many problems.
It was old, worn out, and nowhere near move–in ready.
Honestly, I didn’t give a damn. I wasn’t buying it to renovate–I was buying it to own. I could deal with the mess later.
But instead of a straightforward sale, the Hamiltons decided to turn it into a spectacle–an auction gala for the upper crust. The kind of night where fortunes are thrown around like poker chips, and reputations are made or crushed in seconds.
And since Lancaster is always the one landing contracts like this, I knew his bid had an advantage. But bidding higher would get me exactly what I wanted–a property worth far more than I was about to pay. Squaring it.
I watched as the party unfolded into the night, and then it was finally time for what I’d been waiting for all evening: the auction.
Everyone took their seats in the spacious auditorium, and within seconds, the auction began.
A tall man dressed in a crisp navy–blue suit stepped up to the podium, his presence commanding the room. The low chatter faded into an eager silence as the spotlight centered on him. It felt like the air shifted, tightening.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, his voice smooth and carrying the confidence of ten men, “welcome to the Hamilton Estate Auction Gala.”
A small round of applause erupted, then he continued.
“Tonight, you’re not just bidding on land–you’re bidding on legacy. As you all know, tonight’s Hamilton Revenue bid is a single–call sealed bid. No second chances. Once your number is declared, it is final.”
Oh. So that’s why they made us lock in our bids before even stepping in. Figures.
Good. Let the cards fall where they may. I was more than ready.
D
Comments
Support
Share
