The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1614

The woman, Keesha Nord, was clearly interested.

However, Dalton merely glanced at her, his voice as cold as the winter breeze. "Since when have the rules here changed?"

His remark made the guard step in, gesturing politely to Keesha. "Ms. Fox, the auction is about to begin. Please return to your seat."

"Fine, fine." She flicked her hair back. Though older, her figure was strikingly elegant. "I was just making sure it's not some outsider sneaking in. His body... he doesn't quite look like he's here to buy."

The guard glanced back at his list and confirmed that there was a guest with the codename "Crow". He swiftly replied to Keesha, "This gentleman has ordered the same item as you."

"Oh? That's rare." Keesha's gaze sized Dalton up again.

She noted that he seemed truly at ease, and didn't seem to be acting. Wealth had a way of revealing itself in subtle gestures, and he carried himself with an unapproachable, aristocratic air.

It was a look she would have remembered had she encountered him in her circles. Keesha convinced herself that he was perhaps a new face. But which family was he from? She was racking her mind, unable to place him among her connections.

This was the internal paradox of the wealthy at these gatherings. They wanted to keep their identities a mystery, yet they had the urge to identify others. This shared secrecy placed them on common ground, opening the door to potential alliances.

For instance, many of the scholarship committee's long-time patrons knew more than they let on about each other, even if they never said it aloud.

"It's been too long. Everyone has grown distant," someone remarked.

"Well, we all know that there's been quite a lot happening lately. There's the Wray family, then the Montclair family. Things are tense."

"I heard some people from the higher authority came to investigate. I wonder if they'll find anything."

"They've investigated countless times. Has any of it ever affected us? Just relax. Someone's always there to take the heat for us."

"200 thousand!"

"300 thousand!"

"500 thousand!"

"500 thousand, going once, going twice, and—"

"One million." A middle-aged man's deep, alluring voice rang out.

Immediately, the others lowered their paddles.

The man who had spoken rose to his feet and addressed the auctioneer. "I heard there's something rare on the lineup tonight. I wouldn't have come here in person otherwise—I usually don't bother with the regular goods."