Chapter 635
Chapter 635:
As the heavy metal panels spun, sealing them inside the hotel, Skye took a deep breath.
The trap was set. Now she just had to spring it.
The sub-basement ballroom of the Dragon Hotel had been transformed into a surreal nightmare.
Waiters in masks moved silently through the crowd. Aerialists hung from silk ropes attached to the ceiling. The lighting was dim, purple and gold, creating shadows everywhere.
Lucian led Skye to a VIP table right next to the stage. He forced her to sit on a low ottoman beside his chair, like a favored pet.
“Stay,” he commanded.
Skye sat, tucking her legs under her. The scissors pressed against her thigh.
Victoria sat on the opposite side of the table, chugging a glass of wine. She was glaring daggers at Skye.
The auctioneer took the stage.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Night of Secrets p>
The first item was a stolen painting. Then a cache of diamonds.
Skye scanned the room. She saw Alistair—or someone who moved like him—standing near the emergency exit, dressed as security.
Liam moved through the tables, refilling glasses. He was getting closer.
Bianca, standing near the bar, narrowed her eyes as she watched the tall waiter pour wine for a Russian arms dealer. There was something familiar about the set of his shoulders—a rigid, military-grade posture that didn’t fit a service worker. She tilted her head, suspicion blooming.
Before she could voice it, the auctioneer announced the main event.
“And now,” the auctioneer announced, “a surprise lot. Courtesy of Mr. Graves p>
Lucian stood up. He grabbed Skye’s chain and yanked her to her feet.
𝘌𝗇j𝗈𝘆 rеа𝖽𝘪𝗻𝗀 le𝗀𝘢𝗅𝗹𝘆 on b𝘦𝗅𝗻о𝘷е𝗹𝘀.𝘤𝗈𝘮
“Gentlemen,” Lucian’s voice boomed, “I present to you… the Oracle p>
A murmur went through the crowd.
“Not her mind,” Lucian said, smiling cruelly, “but her… companionship. For one night. Starting bid… five million p>
Skye felt the blood drain from her face. This was it. The ultimate humiliation.
A paddle went up. “Six million p>
“Seven p>
Liam was three tables away. He froze. Skye saw his hand go to his waistband, where a gun would be.
No, she thought. Not yet. Too many guards.
She had to stop this.
Lucian was basking in the attention. He turned to look at the bidders. He was so drunk on his own power, so focused on the sea of envious faces, that he didn’t even spare a glance at the waiter approaching his left flank.
Liam moved. He walked briskly toward their table, holding a bottle of champagne.
“Sir,” Liam said, his voice altered, deeper. “More wine p>
Lucian glanced at him, annoyed. “Not now p>