Chapter 60
On a crisp Saturday morning, the prestigious Verona Auction House buzzed with anticipation.
A throng of reporters clustered outside the grand entrance, held at bay to respect the privacy of the elite attendees. Inside, the crowd consisted of serious collectors and shrewd financiers—people who valued discretion over spectacle.
Except for Isabella Montclair, Seraphina Delmar, and Vanessa Delacroix.
For years, Isabella had turned the charity auction into her personal stage, arriving in lavish gowns and posing dramatically for the cameras. She would linger at the entrance, soaking up the attention until staff gently ushered her inside, leaving her visibly annoyed.
It was as if she feared the world might forget she was the faded star who had clawed her way into high society by breaking up a marriage decades ago.
Her antics had driven Alistair Blackwood to skip the event entirely in recent years—likely to avoid the embarrassment.
But this year, Isabella had reluctantly agreed to step aside. Seraphina had begged her to let Vanessa take center stage instead. After all, they were family. How could she refuse?
So, this time, it was the Delmars who commanded the spotlight at the entrance.
“As representatives of the Delmar family, we hope to acquire extraordinary pieces tonight while supporting a noble cause,” Seraphina declared gracefully, flashing a practiced smile at the flashing cameras.
“Mrs. Delmar, is it true the Delmar Group is on the verge of collapse?” one journalist pressed.
“Has there been any progress in Mr. Delmar’s legal case? Will he face prison time?” another demanded.
“And is it confirmed that your daughter and the CEO of Blackwood Enterprises have ended their engagement?”
Vanessa’s head snapped up at the last question. She stepped forward, her glare sharp enough to silence the room.
“Ended? Who told you that?”
The reporter hesitated. “Miss Vanessa, we’re just asking. After all, Mr. Blackwood hasn’t publicly supported your family during this crisis. People talk.”
“We are not over!” Vanessa’s voice rose, frustration boiling over at the thought of Zachary’s recent distance.
Seraphina quickly pulled her daughter back, smoothing things over with a diplomatic smile. “Vanessa and Mr. Blackwood are very much together. Please don’t speculate. As for business matters between our families, those are private.”
“But Mr. Blackwood arrived half an hour ago. Why isn’t he here with your daughter?”
The question sent a visible chill through both women. Their smiles faltered.
Meanwhile, inside, Zachary Blackwood had already settled into the auction hall, his sharp gaze scanning the room as his secretary, Maxwell Reeves, stood nearby.
“Zachary!” A familiar voice rang out as Lucian Ashford sauntered over, grinning. He slung an arm around Zachary’s waist, giving an appreciative squeeze.
“Damn, you’ve been working out. Solid as ever,” he teased, fingers lingering just a second too long.
Zachary’s expression darkened. “Hands off.”
Lucian laughed, unfazed. “Still so serious? Remember when we used to wrestle under the covers as kids?”
“I’m avoiding unnecessary attention.”
“Good. Means you’re finally thinking straight.” Lucian’s tone turned serious. “The Delmars are poison, Zachary. Anyone tied to them gets dragged down. You don’t need that.”
Zachary’s jaw tightened. “I don’t take orders from the Prescott family.”
Everyone knew the Prescotts ruled Faircrest’s business world—and Lucian ruled the Prescotts.
“I’m looking out for you,” Lucian insisted. “Grandfather only invited the Delmars tonight as a courtesy to you. They don’t belong here.”
“Not yet. But Vanessa will be my wife. You’ll have to accept that.”
Lucian sighed. “Fine. I won’t disrespect the future Mrs. Blackwood. But let me say one thing you won’t like.”
“Then don’t.”
“Between Vanessa and your ex-wife? That untamed rose had fire. And a man like you? You need fire to thaw that ice.”
The words hung in the air, sharp and unignorable.
