CHAPTER 448: AUCTION VENUE

We’ll need to take the elevator," Kai announced, stepping inside first and holding the door open for Sinclair and Camilla.

With a protective arm around Camilla, Sinclair guided her into the elevator.

Kai released the door and pressed the button for the ninth floor.

Camilla glanced at the illuminated number, a flicker of confusion crossing her delicate features.

"I thought the auction was on the eighth floor?

Why are we going to the ninth?"

Kai quickly explained, "The eighth floor is for general attendees.

You and President Luther will be in the VIP lounge on the ninth."

Camilla simply nodded in response, offering no further comment.

Wherever people gathered, hierarchies inevitably formed—an age-old truth that never changed.

Just as the elevator doors were about to close, a hand shot out to stop them.

"Pardon me, mind if I join you?"

The man who spoke appeared to be in his early thirties, with striking, chiseled features that hinted at mixed heritage.

His eyes, brimming with amusement, carried a roguish charm.

Whether it was convenient or not wasn’t his call to make.

Kai turned his head slightly toward Sinclair, awaiting his signal.

The man’s gaze also landed squarely on Sinclair, his deep-set eyes narrowing slightly.

To be precise, the aura of icy nobility radiating from him was impossible to ignore.

This American man was undoubtedly here for the charity gala.

Sinclair’s indifferent yet profound eyes rested on the stranger, a fleeting glint passing through his dark irises as the corners of his thin lips curved faintly.

What a coincidence. When the man’s gaze shifted from Sinclair to Camilla, it instantly transformed into one of awe.

Calvin had seen plenty of beautiful women, but rarely one as stunning as this. His eyes now carried a hint of intrigue. "I’m

Harrison, also here for the auction. Mind if we ride up together?"

This time, his words were clearly directed at Camilla. Noticing the man’s brazen scrutiny, Camilla frowned slightly.

The elevator would arrive in minutes—was he really that impatient?

Sinclair pulled Camilla into his embrace with one arm, shielding her from the man’s gaze.

His dark, inscrutable eyes narrowed slightly as they swept over the stranger, his thin lips parting to utter a single phrase.

"Not interested."

His voice was low and deliberate, devoid of any warmth.

*Doesn’t he know who his family is?* The man frowned slightly at Sinclair’s immediate refusal.

"Do you have any idea who—"

"Apologies, sir."

Kai, sensing Sinclair’s displeasure, didn’t dare delay. Kai cut off Harrison mid-sentence.

"Please wait here for the next one." With a polite nod to Harrison, he pressed the button to close the elevator doors.

Harrison’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t intervene again.

Instead, he slid his hands into his pockets, watching through narrowed eyes as the doors slowly sealed shut, obscuring Sinclair and Camilla from view.

It had been a long time since anyone had dared to dismiss him so bluntly.

*How... interesting.* Inside the elevator, the air was thick with unspoken tension.

Camilla peeked out from Sinclair’s embrace, her eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses as she smiled up at him.

"I’m not a child anymore—you can’t just tuck me into your arms whenever you please," she teased.

No, she wasn’t a child.

She was his treasure.

His alone, not for anyone else to covet.

Sinclair’s lips curved into a faint smile as he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead, wordless.

Nearby, Kai kept his head bowed, eyes fixed firmly on the ground, pretending he wasn’t there.

*Ding—*

The elevator doors slid open. Kai stepped out first, holding the door aside with one hand.

"President Luther, Mrs. Luther, President Taylor is waiting in Private Room 8."

With his arm still wrapped securely around Camilla, Sinclair strode out.

Meanwhile, downstairs— Two women approached from not far behind the man.

The one leading the way wore a striking red trench coat, a sleek black mini-dress underneath, and knee-high black boots that accentuated her long legs.

She carried herself with a radiant, almost dazzling confidence.

The woman walking behind was dressed in an elegant white designer suit and skirt, with a black formal hat perched atop her head.

Her face was obscured by dark sunglasses, making her features indistinct, yet an aura of quiet grace and gentleness radiated from her.

"What’s the matter?

The people inside aren’t willing to give Mr. Harrison any face?"

The woman in the red trench coat glanced at the floor where the elevator had stopped, her crimson lips curling slightly with a hint of mockery.

"Should’ve just waited for the next one.

No point wasting the effort."

"Queen," Harrison shot her a cold look and scoffed.

"No one would mistake you for mute if you kept quiet."

When he had asked if they could share the elevator, of course, he hadn’t genuinely meant it as a polite request.

Harrison had expected them to recognize him and step aside immediately.

Instead, not only had they failed to acknowledge him, but they’d outright refused—without a shred of courtesy.

If it weren’t for Juliet’s presence, he wouldn’t have let this slide so easily.

At the thought, a flicker of displeasure flashed in his eyes.

Queen frowned, about to fire back with a biting remark— *Ding—* The elevator doors slid open once more.

Harrison reached out to hold the door, his gaze sweeping past Queen to land on the woman in a chic white Chanel-style suit behind her.

His demeanor was the picture of a gentleman.

"Juliet, the elevator’s here.

Let’s go up," he said, his voice noticeably softer than when he had spoken to Queen moments ago.

"Harrison, don’t talk about Queen like that," Juliet chided gently, stepping forward to loop her arm through Queen’s.

"Queen, don’t mind him.

Come on, let’s go together." *What a performance.

* "You two go ahead," Queen said abruptly, her lips pressing into a thin line as she glanced at Juliet’s hand on her arm.

"I need to use the restroom."

With that, she pulled free and turned toward the lobby restrooms without another word.

"Queen—"Juliet’s delicate brows furrowed slightly, a hint of hurt flashing in her eyes.

Harrison watched Queen walk away, his own frown deepening.

*What’s her problem?*