Chapter 6 - The Auction Of Broken Pride
"And now, ladies and gentlemen!" Julian Croft's voice boomed over the speakers, commanding the attention of the intoxicated crowd. "We arrive at the highlight of our evening: The liquidation and public re-allocation of the Vance Heritage Asset Portfolio!"
A wave of hushed whispers swept the room. On the massive LED screen behind the stage, a digital ledger appeared. Listed were Ethan Vance’s crown jewels: prime real estate in Manhattan, transatlantic shipping lanes, and exclusive patent rights to high-frequency trading algorithms.
Chad stood up from Table One, raising his champagne glass high, basked in the spotlight. Brooke hung onto his arm, her eyes shining with greedy triumph.
"As many of you know," Chad announced loudly, his voice oozing performative sympathy, "our dear friend Ethan Vance suffered a tragic fate. A tragedy of the mind and body. In his state of profound invalidity, his former board has deemed him unfit to oversee such vital American assets. Tonight, Harrington Maritime, in conjunction with Brooke Sterling, will be placing the baseline bid of two hundred million dollars to absorb Vance Holdings!"
The room erupted into polite applause. Brooke looked back toward Ethan’s shadowy corner, mouthing two silent words: *"You lost."*
"Do we have any counterbids for the introductory package?" Julian Croft asked, looking across the sea of billionaires. "Two hundred million is a steal, ladies and gentlemen, but Harrington Maritime holds the first right of refusal!"
Nobody moved. Nobody dared to cross Chad Harrington. The room was complicit in the theft; everyone knew they would receive scraps of the carcass once Chad ripped the Vance empire apart.
"Going once at two hundred million..." Croft lifted his gavel.
From the back of the room, a hand went up.
It wasn't a billionaire. It wasn't a fund manager.
It was Isabella, standing tall, holding a silver bidding paddle numbered *001*.
"Five hundred million dollars," Isabella declared, her clear, crisp voice echoing through the massive acoustic hall like thunder.
The ballroom stopped breathing.
May you like
A fork clattered against a porcelain plate. Brooke’s wine glass slipped from her hand, shattering on the stage steps, splashing red across the white carpet.
***
