Chapter 8: The Auction House
A black sedan came to a stop in front of a building with the sign, ’Eva Styles and Beauty.’
"Are you sure this is not a bad idea? Harry will not be pleased if he finds out you went to the auction alone." Dylan said. He couldn’t shake off the feeling that this was a terrible mistake.
"I’m not forcing you. You either go on your way, or I expose you." Violet said, throwing the ball back into his court. "Besides, you get to spend time with your other woman."
Dylan gritted his teeth. She wouldn’t stop talking about it. He kicked himself mentally for leaving the phone in his car. But he never thought she’d be nosey. The Violet he knew was a timid girl who never interfered in anyone’s life. "But you never said this was part of the deal." He complained, ignoring her last comment.
"I never said your money was all I was asking for." As long as the phone remained with her, she would make him dance to her every wish. "And if you breathe a word of me attending alone to Harry before the auction is over, I’m going straight to the press." she threatened.
Dylan’s jaw flexed, but he knew whatever anger he felt was useless. He didn’t argue further. He felt completely helpless as he watched her step out of the car and into the building before he drove off.
The store’s front glass glowed under bright lights, with the name written in gold letters across the window. Violet had found this place online and had chosen it because of its high rating.
It was a multi-purpose salon, with a boutique, hair store, and other beauty stores.
Violet decided to switch up her look before attending the auction. First was because she didn’t feel comfortable in Stephanie’s clothes.
Second, she planned to attend the auction under an alias, just in case she found someone.
"Good evening, ma’am, welcome to Eva Styles and Beauty." A receptionist standing behind the front desk greeted her, a bright smile plastered on her face.
Violet’s eyes moved over the place. The salon was sleek and modern, soft music playing in the background.
"I want a makeup artist." she said. "I’ll also be getting some clothes." The girl typed away on the laptop in front of her. "And, can I get a private room?" she asked.
"Yes, but that will cost you extra." the girl said, drawing out the last words.
Violet was prepared to spend more if it meant achieving her desired look.
"I’m willing to pay." She felt suddenly grateful to Dylan. If he wasn’t a scumbag, where would she have gotten the money to pay for this? Now she was 35 million richer, which still felt unbelievable.
This meant that she would not be returning to her old apartment. She could pay Marie her defaulted rent and have a little feast.
After Violet picked her dress, a fitted black gown that fell to the floor with a slit up one side, she was shown into a private room where a makeup artist was already waiting for her.
The girl was a brunette. She introduced herself as Jen.
After changing into her dress, Violet sat in front of the mirror. "What kind of look are you going for?" Jen asked kindly.
Violet stared at her reflection in the mirror. "Something that will make me unrecognisable." She pulled out a blonde bob wig she had gotten and placed it on the table. "I want to look like a professional. Give me sharp features." she said, holding Jen’s eyes through the mirror.
Jen stared at her quietly, waiting for her to laugh and say she was only joking. But when the woman in front of her kept a straight face, she realised she was serious.
Jen was a professional makeup artist. One of the areas she specialised in was contouring, the kind that could completely change how a face looked.
"Alright." Jen said, giving a slow, careful nod.
Jen tried to make small talk with Violet as her hands worked on her face, but gave up when she realised Violet wasn’t interested.
When she finished, Violet stared at her reflection, stunned beyond words. The woman staring back had sharp cheekbones, bold red lips, and sleek blonde hair curved slightly over her face. Nothing about her looked like the Violet who had walked in.
"Thank you. I like it." she said.
Jen smiled, pleased, "you’re welcome." She dipped her hand into her jeans pocket and pulled out a small card. "This is my card. I don’t work here full time. Give me a call if you want to recreate this look." she said.
Violet nodded, then tucked the card securely into her purse.
By the time Violet was ready to leave, it was past 8:00pm. The auction was starting at 9 pm. As Violet took one last look at herself, her stomach rumbled, twisting into itself. She hadn’t eaten all day.
Scratch that.
She hadn’t had a proper meal in years. But she would bear it. Getting the jade necklace was more important, and she had passed the last hurdle.
She booked a ride to the auction. The red Audi came to pick her up at exactly 8:15.
The ride to the auction house from Eva Styles and Beauty was only 20 minutes. Violet felt her hands beginning to sweat as they got closer to the venue. She wiped them on her dress, then took a few deep breaths.
She was going to be surrounded by billionaires tonight, and she had to fit in without raising suspicions.
"We’re here." the driver said.
Violet looked out of the car, scanning the people through the window, and flinched when her door was opened by a man wearing a black suit.
Her red-bottomed heels came out first, then she followed. A lump formed in her throat as she stood straight.
People sauntered around in gowns and tailored suits, jewellery glinting under the lights, their voices low and confident, as though the whole night belonged to them.
A man in a gray Italian suit stood at the entrance, a tablet in his hand, the guest list for the night displayed on the screen.
Violet noticed that people stood in front of him and showed him their invitation before they walked in.
She walked up to him, her head held high. "Invitation, please." the man said in a low voice.
Violet held out the invitation, her fingers wrapped steadily around it despite her racing heart.
"Name." the man asked, at the same time collecting the invitation.
"Kierra Adams." Violet gave the name she made up earlier in the car. She held her breath as the man scrolled down his iPad.
His brows furrowed, his face turning slightly rigid.
When he lifted his head, Violet felt her heartbeat accelerate. Her lips trembled as she tilted her head, trying to give a friendly smile.
"I’m sorry," the man said, "but your name isn’t on the guest list, hence you cannot be allowed in."