New beginning: Billionaire love story (Claire and Alex) novel Chapter 293

Claire clapped her hand, and forced a smile as she watched Alexander Harris descend the stage. He’d just won the final bid—a jaw-dropping $200 million for a piece of jewelry, the famed Saint Laurent necklace. The amount was absurd, even to someone as wealthy as Claire.

Sure, she had plenty of money, but even she wasn’t foolish enough to spend that much on a piece of jewelry.

Claire's mood had sunk like a stone, but her face stayed calm and collected. She was good at that—hiding what she really felt behind a mask of ease. The other guests rushed to congratulate Alexander as he passed by their tables, and when he reached hers, Claire stood, her fake smile perfectly in place.

“Congratulations, Alexander,” she said, extending her hand.

Alexander shook it, his grip firm but relaxed. “Thank you, Claire.”

Behind him, Adrian approached his smile more business than pleasure. “Congrats, Alexander,” he said smoothly. “I believe you will take care of it. It's been a while since someone held it.”

Alexander gave a polite nod, though his face was still tense every time he talked to Adrian. “I’ll take care of it.”

Claire barely paid attention. Her phone buzzed in her hand, a text from Matthew: I'll be there soon.

She pocketed her phone, and Adrian excused himself. “I’m off to speak with my grandfather. I’ll catch up with you two later.” He gave Claire a nod before heading toward the far end of the room, leaving her alone with Alexander.

Great, just what she needed.

Claire crossed her arms, glancing at Alexander. “What are you going to do with it?”

Alexander, hands stuffed into his pockets, shrugged. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

Claire’s brow furrowed. “You spent $200 million on a necklace, and you don’t know what you’re going to do with it?”

He smirked, raising his brows as if amused by her irritation. “Are you jealous you didn’t win?”

Claire scoffed. “Please. I’m not stupid enough to blow that kind of money on a necklace.”

Her tone was sharp, but Alexander just chuckled. He didn’t seem to take anything seriously, and that only annoyed her more.

“Enjoy your night,” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. She turned sharply on her heel and headed for the bar. She needed a drink, something strong to take the edge off her frustration.

As she made her way through the crowd, someone bumped into her, hard. The next thing she knew, cold liquid splashed down her front, soaking her dress.

Claire gasped, her eyes wide as she looked down at the red wine now staining her pale blue gown. She snapped her gaze up to see who the culprit was, and of course, it was none other than Gretta Robertson, queen of fake smiles and petty drama.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Claire!” Gretta exclaimed, her tone high-pitched and insincere. Her expression was the picture of fake surprise, eyes wide as if she hadn’t just deliberately spilled wine all over Claire’s dress.

Claire narrowed her eyes, seething beneath her calm exterior. “Use your eyes next time, Gretta.”

Gretta’s lips twitched into a mocking smile. “Accidents happen,” she said with a shrug. Then, as if she couldn’t resist twisting the knife, she added, “By the way, congratulations for not winning the bid. Seems like the great Claire Peterson doesn't always get what she wants. Tough luck.”

"No need to come in. I’ll wait outside."

She didn’t want to stick around any longer than necessary. This event had been a bust.

Claire was about to tell Adrian that she was leaving early but thought better of it. If she mentioned it to him, he’d definitely start asking questions, and Claire wasn’t in the mood for an interrogation.

After fixing herself up as much as possible, she made her way out of the bathroom and headed toward the lobby. She paused, remembering that the photographer was probably still lurking around out there, waiting to snap pictures of anyone who dared to leave early. She really didn’t need her early exit plastered all over tomorrow’s news.

Instead, she slipped through the back door, which led into the kitchen. The smell of cooking food and the clatter of pots and pans filled the air, and a few confused kitchen staff glanced her way, but no one said anything.

Claire pushed the heavy door at the back of the kitchen and stepped into the alley, the cool night air hitting her like a breath of fresh air.

Just as she lifted her dress slightly to avoid stepping on any puddles, a hand grabbed her from behind. Before she could even scream, a cloth was pressed against her mouth and nose, the sharp, chemical smell filling her lungs. Her eyes widened in panic as she tried to struggle, but her body quickly became weak. Within moments, everything went black.

Lisa stood over Claire’s unconscious body, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips. She glanced around the alley, making sure no one had seen what had just happened. The street was quiet, and the few pedestrians passing by were too far away to notice anything unusual.

“Perfect,” Lisa muttered under her breath, leaning down to lift Claire’s limp form into the back seat of her car.

It wasn’t easy; Claire was heavier than she looked. But with a grunt, Lisa managed to get her into the car and slam the door shut. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and took a deep breath before sliding into the driver’s seat.