By the time I'd composed myself and returned to the auction, bidding had already begun.
I'd thought that with my skill level, a few paintings together might fetch a few hundred thousand if I was lucky.
I sat in a corner of the back row, my heartbeat rising and falling with the hammer strikes.
Because my paintings were presented on the platform one after another, prices climbing at a breathtaking pace.
Far beyond my expectations.
Until "Embers" was wheeled onto the stage.
On the deep black canvas, only the burned marks intertwined with dark red paint, consuming all my unspeakable yearning.
The moment the auctioneer announced the starting price, the lights in Kieran's private box lit up.
Immediately after, the light panel in a VIP box diagonally across that had remained silent suddenly blazed to life.
A silent tug-of-war began.
Prices leaped upward at staggering increments. The entire venue's attention shifted between these two boxes, whispers rising like a tide.
I saw Kieran's expression growing darker, his fingertips tapping lightly on the armrest.
Whenever he was agitated, he'd unconsciously make this gesture.
Each time he raised his bid, the intervals grew longer, as if weighing his options or suppressing his anger.
Scarlett nestled against him, softly persuading him about something.
But he seemed not to hear, staring intently at the painting with deeply furrowed brows.
Scarlett's gaze swept toward me several times.
Finally, she seemed unable to resist leaning closer. I barely made out her words from her lip movements.
"Kieran, forget it. Aria treasures this painting most. Usually no one else can even touch it. How could she really bear to sell it? She's probably just being childish again, trying to get your attention."
Kieran's expression softened slightly, but he gave her a warning glance.
"It's not your business. Don't interfere."
Scarlett immediately fell silent, a flash of embarrassment and jealous hatred crossing her beautiful face.
Finally, when the price climbed to an unbelievable astronomical figure, Kieran fell silent for a moment and stopped bidding.
Three hammer strikes. Sold.
"Embers" went to the mysterious guest in that box.
I sat frozen in place, overwhelmed by shock.
Not until my phone buzzed and the bank notification showed a clear number did I hazily realize I'd actually sold a painting for an astronomical price.
Just then, a waiter silently approached and handed me a folded note.
"From the gentleman who just bought your artwork."
He spoke quietly then turned and left.
I took it in confusion and unfolded it. There was only one line of sharp, unfamiliar handwriting.
[Too beautiful to burn. I'll keep it safe for you.]
I felt strange and instinctively looked up.
I couldn't find the mysterious person, but met Kieran's deep, dark eyes instead.
His expression was terrible as he strode toward me.
He didn't even give me a chance to speak before his ice-cold rebuke crashed down.
"Aria, what do you think this place is? Is the auction hall your stage for games and jealous tantrums? Having someone plant fake bids to drive up prices - you'd actually stoop to such underhanded tactics!"
My whole body trembled as I looked up at him in disbelief.
His eyes were full of disgust and distrust toward me.
Scarlett immediately stepped forward, gently grasping Kieran's arm.
"Kieran, don't be angry. Aria's young, maybe she just want you to notice her more."
Every word she spoke implied I'd use any means necessary to get his attention.
Staff members and guests who hadn't yet left cast searching looks, whispers drilling into my ears.
"No wonder. I thought that painting was just so-so."
"So it was a planted bidder. I wondered how it got that price."
"The pack's reputation is going to be ruined."
Those stares and whispers were like countless fine needles, pricking me densely all over.
I opened my mouth, but my throat felt strangled, unable to make any sound.
Overwhelming grievance seized me, tears surging uncontrollably to my eyes.
I fought desperately to hold them back, but he still became blurred in my vision.
Once, just because someone had made a crude joke about me behind my back, he could bankrupt their pack business overnight, protecting me completely.
Now, he personally placed the hat of fraud on my head in front of everyone - a label that could destroy all my professional prospects - letting others trample my dignity with the most malicious speculation.
"No, Uncle, I didn't."
My voice carried a choking tremor as I tried to explain.
Just then, the cruise ship suddenly lurched violently.
Unsteady on my feet, I cried out as my whole body pitched forward uncontrollably.
Almost at the same instant, Kieran's arm shot out.
But he precisely caught Scarlett, who was farther from him and had only stumbled slightly, holding her steadily in his arms.
No one remembered to catch me.
My side crashed hard into the silver candelabra on the table behind me. The silver instantly cut through my skin, leaving wounds that wouldn't heal, explosive pain that made my vision go black and nearly suffocated me.
Tears finally burst forth, mixing heartbreak with physical agony, flooding down.
I lay awkwardly against the cold table edge, watching him hold someone else tightly in his arms, not sparing me even a glance.
