The night of the auction was as grand as the runway itself—if not more.
Gie had never attended one of these events before, despite designing for some of the wealthiest collectors in the world. Usually, her pieces were handled through private representatives, sent discreetly to the highest bidders without her ever having to witness the process.
But tonight, she was here.
And so was he.
The ballroom had been transformed into something fit for royalty.
Golden chandeliers cast warm light over sleek black tables arranged in tiers, each one assigned to the most powerful bidders in attendance. There was no shouting, no chaotic gestures—this wasn't a public auction. This was elegance weaponized. Quiet wealth. Ruthless exclusivity.
Each guest had an electronic panel at their seat, where bids were entered silently. The numbers flashed on the master screen. No spectacle, no showboating. Just power and the price it was willing to pay.
Laurent was in his element, seated near the front, dressed in his signature navy and gold, sipping champagne like it was holy water.
Gie, however, was seated a row behind—partly by choice, mostly because Laurent had threatened to physically drag her if she tried to back out last minute.
She was fine.
At least… she had been fine—until she saw him.
Alexander Millers, in the flesh.
Her breath caught the moment her eyes found him.
She hadn't expected to see him again—not tonight. Not here. Their last encounter at the gemstone auction felt like a fever dream, dulled by the chaos of deadlines and show prep. But now?
Now, her veins were lit with adrenaline all over again.
Most billionaires sent proxies—financial advisors, stylists, collectors. Not Alexander.
He sat in the VIP tier, the highest of the high, where only the select few could bid. And God—he looked lethal.
Black velvet tuxedo. No tie. The jacket undone just enough to hint at the sculpted lines of his chest. His earring—her earring—still gleamed at his ear like it had always been his.
But it wasn't just how he looked.
It was how he moved. How he sat. Like he didn't care that he was surrounded by royalty, oil heirs, and empire builders.
He didn't have to say a word to own the room.
And Gie?
She didn't even realize she was staring until Alina nudged her hard.
"You're drooling."
"I—I am not," Gie hissed, dragging her gaze away.
"Oh, babe," Alina whispered, grinning. "You absolutely are."
Laurent's gowns went up first.
Models stepped onto the stage, each look dripping with silk, drama, and temptation. Bids soared. $1.2 million. $2.8 million. By the final look, Laurent was positively glowing, soaking in the attention like sunlight.
Then came the jewelry.
Gie's pulse jumped.
The sapphire collar necklace opened at $500,000.
Within seconds, it shot to $2.3 million.
The black pearl choker? $2.6 million.
She could barely breathe.
Her pieces were breaking records. Her name was being whispered at every table. The numbers on the screen weren't just currency—they were worship.
Then came the final piece.
The ruby and onyx statement ring.
The blooming danger. Her most personal design.
"Starting at $1 million," the auctioneer announced.
A few bids came in.
$1.5 million.
$2.5 million.
And then—
One number lit up the screen like a flare.
$5 million.
Silence fell over the room.
Gie's heart slammed against her ribs.
She didn't even need to look.
She looked anyway.
Alexander.
Calm. Unmoved. One arm resting on the table like he had just purchased a glass of wine, not dropped $5 million in a single click.
Her ring.
He had bought her ring.
Laurent leaned over, laughing under his breath. "Oh, ma chérie… he is playing a game. And I love it."
Gie couldn't move. Couldn't think.
What did it mean?
Did it mean anything?
All she knew was this—
Her blood was running too fast. Her skin was too warm. And when she turned to look at him one more time—
Alexander looked back.
No smile.
No smugness.
Just a gaze that sliced through silk and skin alike.
She tore her eyes away, but the damage was done.
Because for the first time in her life, she wondered—
Was she the one being collected now?