Chapter 208: A Flurry of Random Punches Beats the Old Master
The smile on Vance’s face vanished, replaced by the subtle pressure of a man in charge. "Is Guest Number Fourteen questioning the integrity of our auction house?"
Timothy Donovan’s heart jolted. He was about to say something more but was mercilessly shut down by his father.
"He’s just a kid spouting nonsense. Please, Vance, don’t mind him. He didn’t mean it."
"You’d better hope not." Vance couldn’t be bothered to waste any more time on them and cut straight to the chase. "If our guests don’t trust the auction house, they are free to leave at any time. Business is built on honesty and trust. Without trust, there’s no business to be done."
This was a blatant threat. If Timothy Donovan continued to make a scene, the auction house would have him thrown out—or even throw all three of them, the father and his sons, out on the street!
Victor Donovan understood the implication. His expression faltered, but he had no choice but to force a smile and sit back down.
After all, even the patron backing them had to show the auction house some deference here, let alone a few underlings like themselves.
With the troublemakers handled, the auction resumed.
Buoyed by the confidence that over two billion dollars provided, Arabella Donovan bid without any pressure. Soon, however, she noticed that some of the guests who hadn’t joined them for the proof of funds check were now raising their paddles again.
"These people..." Arabella Donovan instinctively glanced beside her, seeking confirmation.
Caspian Rhodes offered a gentle smile. "They didn’t verify their funds."
"So I wasn’t mistaken. Then why are they...?"
"What they’re doing now is still within the rules of the auction house."
’In other words, agreeing to a proof of funds check was a personal choice. If they refused, the auction house couldn’t force them.’
’By the same token, the auction house couldn’t stop them from bidding now, because that, too, was in line with auction regulations.’
"...They can do that?!" Arabella Donovan understood the logic, but she was still floored.
Caspian Rhodes simply smiled without a word. He had anticipated this outcome the moment Arabella Donovan suggested all bidders verify their funds.
’The girl was clever, but she was still too naive, assuming people had standards.’
’This would be a good lesson for her. The one thing the adult world never lacked was shameless opportunists.’
’When the stakes were high enough, saving face was a secondary concern.’
Arabella Donovan was indeed taken aback, but only for a moment.
It was their decision. If they wanted to keep bidding, there was nothing she could do to stop them.
Ultimately, she refocused on her own strategy. In the face of overwhelming financial power, their shamelessness was irrelevant.
"One point two billion."
"One billion, two hundred ten million."
"..."
"One point three billion."
"One billion, three hundred ten million."
"..."
"One point four billion."
"One billion, four hundred ten million."
"..."
Up to this point, the bidders had been neck and neck. No sooner would one person call out a price than another would immediately raise it.
But when Arabella Donovan called out, "One point five billion," the entire auction hall fell silent. Even the bidders who had gotten swept up in the heat of the moment were jolted back to reality, as if doused with a bucket of ice water.
"One point five billion? Did she just say one point five billion? No matter how promising that Southward District plot is, it can’t be worth that much, can it?"
"And that’s just for the land itself! The subsequent investment in development and promotion will cost another fortune. How long would it take to even break even? Has that woman lost her mind?"
"People have estimated the value of the Southward District plot before. The floor was eight hundred million, with a ceiling of one point three billion. Factoring in the government’s recent preferential policies for the area, the total value might have floated up a bit, but this is the absolute maximum. Bidding any higher is a guaranteed loss."
"Exactly. Any higher is a loss, and when you factor in that worthless plot in the Norwall Outskirts, the loss will be even greater. Haven’t you noticed? The representatives from the major families have all lowered their paddles and retreated."
"Hahaha, talk about a rookie upsetting the veterans. Who would have thought the Southward District plot would fall into the hands of a young girl like her? We’re witnessing history here."
"What young girl? At the end of the day, isn’t it Ninth Master pulling the strings behind the scenes? For all we know, buying this land was Ninth Master’s idea from the start. She’s just the public face, the target, just like those other family representatives."
While the other bidders were disappointed to drop out, they also felt a sense of relief.
After all, once the price crossed a billion, many were just bidding to save face. Now that it had hit one point five billion, it would be downright foolish not to back out.
Even if they were held accountable later, their liability would be limited. After all, did they lose to some young girl? No, they lost to one point five billion dollars!
Compared to them, however, Timothy Donovan and his father were not so fortunate.
"Impossible. How could she have that much money? Second Great-Uncle... he..." Timothy Donovan wanted to say ’deserves to die,’ but the words caught in his throat as he remembered all the people around them.
If he said that out loud, it would surely get back to Dennis Donovan. Then, it would be hard to say who would be meeting their maker first.
"Impossible or not, she just bid one point five billion. Dad, what do we do now?"
"What can we do?" Victor retorted. "Our patron only gave us one point three billion. Those last bids were already using our own family’s money. Even if we keep bidding and manage to win, where do you expect me to find the rest of the cash?"
With a grim expression, Timothy Donovan said, "I can’t stand the thought of Arabella Donovan getting those two plots. Can’t we borrow the money from someone?"
"...Are you trying to get me killed?"
Victor Donovan was nearly apoplectic at his disrespectful son’s suggestion. It took him a long moment to calm down. "Fine. Let her have her moment of triumph. So many people have their eyes on this land. I refuse to believe a little upstart like her can walk away with it so easily. Just you wait. Some people are lucky enough to get their hands on a fortune, but not lucky enough to live to enjoy it!"
Timothy Donovan paused, then quickly understood his father’s meaning. His gaze toward Arabella Donovan took on a gloating, malicious edge.
Arabella Donovan couldn’t care less what any of them were thinking. When she saw Vance bring the gavel down on the stage and declare her the winner of the final lot, the heavy weight in her chest finally lifted.
With that, every lot in the auction had been sold. Winners were directed to follow the staff backstage to settle their payments and claim their items, while guests who came up empty-handed were free to depart.
As the distinguished guest who had snapped up two lots, Arabella Donovan naturally had to follow the staff.
Interestingly, whether out of boredom or simple curiosity to see if she could actually produce that much money, a surprising number of guests who should have left by now decided to stay. They trailed behind Arabella Donovan’s group, eager to watch the drama unfold.
And as it turned out, sometimes lingering a little longer really does let you witness more drama than everyone else and get an extra helping of gossip.
The crowd followed Arabella Donovan and the staff back to the exhibition hall where they had first viewed the lots. From a distance, they could see a white-haired, elderly man leaning on a cane, waiting for them inside.
As they drew closer and got a clear look at the man’s face, a sudden gasp rippled through the crowd. "It’s... what is *he* doing here?"