CHAPTER 151: ART GALLERY!

Two days later...

The city glittered with lights brighter than usual. The auction house stood like a fortress that night, filled with the scent of wealth, ambition, and secrets.

Billionaires from every corner of the world had their eyes glued to the shimmering stage. Celebrities, draped in designer gowns and priceless jewelry, whispered among themselves, each trying to guess who would dare bid for the crown jewel of the evening—The Heart of the Frost Queen.

Bidding began with lesser articles, rare paintings, ancient relics, exotic artifacts. They shifted hands with sharp clicks of digital screens and polite applause. And then—the diamond appeared.

The hall fell silent.

Encased in crystal glass, under beams of pure white light, the Heart of the Frost Queen gleamed with a brilliance that seemed almost unreal. Its cold blue fire reflected in every pair of eyes.

Numbers soared. Fingers tapped. Digital bids flew across screens in dizzying amounts. Thea Vik sat calmly, watching, her lips faintly curved. Businessmen leaned forward, others clenched fists, unwilling to lose face.

But in the end—only one name surfaced at the top.

The chairman of Sterling Enterprises..

The next morning, the city woke up not to whispers of mystery, but to blaring headlines.

"The Heart of the Frost Queen Acquired by Sterling Enterprises!"

Screens across skyscrapers lit up with the announcement. Commercial channels looped the advertisement.

The diamond would not be locked in a vault, hidden from sight. Instead, it would be exhibited in every jewelry store of Sterling Enterprises across the country, on a rotating schedule.

A bold, genius move.

Marketing experts, business owners, and analysts alike praised the strategy.

The message was clear: it wasn’t just about owning the diamond. It was about making it a symbol, an icon tied to Sterling Enterprises. A name that every man, woman, and child would remember.

Money well invested. Prestige multiplied.

And what of security risks?

Reporters speculated. Commentators debated. "Such a rare piece will draw every thief in the shadows."

But those who knew the truth... those who whispered behind closed doors... they shook their heads.

For the man who bid that night was not just a chairman.

He was the one who owned one of the most formidable private security companies in the country.

He was the one who controlled the largest weapons and arms supply chains in the region.

He was the one with government contracts for advanced weapon research.

And so—Miles Sterling had no reason to worry.

The Heart of the Frost Queen was more than safe

It was untouchable.

It was a Sunday morning.

The golden sun spilled through the curtains, lighting the Pearl Villa in a soft glow. The TV in the living room flickered with colors, and Daniel sat comfortably on the couch, sipping his tea, eyes fixed on the screen.

The sound of the main door opening came, and Miles returned from his morning routine. His shirt was damp, hair sticking slightly from the sweat, his breath steady after the run.

Daniel tilted his head and pointed at the screen.

"That’s quite a good marketing idea."

Miles wiped his forehead with a towel hanging around his neck, then looked at the TV. His own company’s advertisement for the Heart of the Frost Queen sparkled across the screen.

"They aired it already?" Miles asked with a little surprise.

Daniel chuckled. "You have a studio, of course it’s going to be fast."

Miles thought for a second and smiled faintly. "That must be June. She probably stayed late at the office. At least it’s Sunday today... she can rest now."

Daniel nodded with approval. "Smart move, son."

Miles walked closer, glanced at the commercial again, then turned to his father. "Thanks, Father. But it was April’s idea."

From the kitchen, Elena’s voice joined in as she came carrying a tray of fruit.

"She’s good at business, that girl. I saw her the other day working so hard at the jewelry store."

Miles raised his brow. "You went to the jewelry store, Mom?"

"Yes," Elena laughed softly, putting the tray down. "I went with Mona. I wanted to buy her something."

Miles shook his head. "Really? Who spends money on their own stores?"

Elena chuckled again. "The jewelry is expensive, son. I couldn’t just ruin your business by taking it for free. Besides, I wanted to gift my niece something with my own hands."

Miles exhaled, pretending to be defeated. "Alright, alright... fine."

Daniel smiled at their little exchange, warmth in his eyes.

Just then, a door creaked. The sound of tiny feet padding followed, and soon a sleepy little girl came out, hair ruffled, rubbing her eyes.

"Big brooo..." Hope yawned, dragging her words, "good morning."

Miles bent slightly, smiling at her. "You woke up already? Where’s your brother?"

Hope blinked, still half asleep. "He’s in the bathroom."

She walked forward and tried to cling to Miles’s leg but suddenly froze, sniffed, then frowned.

"Big broo... you smell sweaty."

Elena burst out laughing from the sofa, covering her mouth.

"Go and take a shower, son."

Miles sighed and lifted his hands in surrender. "Yup, going."

With that, he headed upstairs, the sound of Hope’s tiny giggle chasing after him.

The sweet smell of maple syrup filled the dining room.

Stacks of golden pancakes sat on the table, steam rising faintly from them. Elena was gently pouring honey onto her plate while Daniel read the paper.

Across from them, Asher had turned his fork into a knight’s sword, stabbing dramatically at his pancake like it was some monster.

"Asher," Elena’s voice came sharp but soft, "don’t play with your food."

The boy froze mid-strike, guilty eyes blinking up at his mother.

"Sorry, mama..."

Miles, sitting beside him, hid a chuckle behind his cup. "You really are a warrior, huh," he teased lightly.

The breakfast went on with clinks of cutlery and the sweet silence of a family morning. Then Elena looked up at Miles.

"Are you going somewhere today?"

Miles dabbed his mouth with a napkin before answering. "Ohh, yes. I’m going out with a friend."

Elena’s brow lifted. A knowing glint passed through her eyes.

"Don’t tell me it’s that foreign girl I saw the other night in the restaurant. You were sharing contact with her."

Miles nearly dropped his fork. "You... saw that?"

Elena’s lips curved into a mischievous smile. "So. What’s going on?"

Daniel folded his paper, curiosity sparking in his eyes. Hope’s head popped up immediately, her little voice full of curiosity.

"Who?"

Miles raised both hands. "Nothing is going on, Mom. She’s going back to Norway tomorrow. It’s just... a casual day out, that’s all."

Elena hummed, unconvinced but amused. "Ohh? And where exactly are you going?"

Daniel chuckled, shaking his head. "Come on, don’t tease him so much."

Elena sighed and waved her hand. "Alright, alright. Have fun, son."

Miles managed a smile, relieved.

But then Asher, mouth still full of pancake, piped up with no warning.

"Big brooo, one of our teachers asked for your number one day."

Miles choked on his coffee, coughing so hard his eyes watered. "What?"

Hope nodded seriously. "Yes, but we told her we don’t have it."

Miles pressed a hand over his forehead and exhaled. "Well done. Never share my number with anyone, okay?"

Hope crossed her arms, firm like an adult. "We know. I don’t even like that miss much anyway."

Daniel burst into laughter, Elena quickly covering her mouth to stifle hers.

Miles just sighed again, already defeated by his little siblings.

Breakfast ended with light chatter and laughter, the warmth of a family Sunday wrapping the room.

Not long after, Miles stood, ruffled the twins’ hair, and grabbed his keys.

He drove out into the bright day.

The car slowed to a stop outside the Star Harbor Art Gallery, its glass walls reflecting the morning sun. Inside, Sterling Security’s comms were alive—voices calm but sharp, every camera feed and street corner already monitored.

In the control room, men and women leaned over glowing screens. Miles’s icon blinked across the city grid.

"Boss is inside the gallery," one of them reported.

Monica’s voice cut through, steady and cold. "Keep eyes on all exits. Triple-check the floor staff. If anyone makes a move, I want to know before it happens."

Last night, she had argued with him till her throat felt dry.

"Why did you even agree, boss? This could be a trap."

Miles had only smiled faintly. "If it’s a trap, it’ll reveal itself. And it’s easier for me to find answers that way."

"And what about the president’s orders?" Monica had pressed.

"Even if she’s an ambassador, she’s still a foreign national. There are rules in this land that no one can break."

Monica sighed, frustrated but helpless. "Fine. But promise me one thing—don’t get drugged, don’t get poisoned, don’t let your guard down."

Miles’s smile had softened. "I’ll take care, sis."

Now, he stepped into the gallery.

The air smelled faintly of varnish and old paint. The walls gleamed with portraits and canvases under soft lights. At the far end of the hall, standing with a small group of observers, Thea Vik seemed to draw all eyes without trying. Her pale coat fell like silk, her hair tied neatly, posture straight and deliberate.

But it wasn’t her beauty that caught Miles’s gaze—it was the way she stood so still before the painting of a dark, monstrous night. A canvas drenched in shadows, a blood-red moon watching over broken silhouettes of men and beasts. It looked alive, unsettling, like something pulled out from a nightmare.

Miles approached, footsteps soft on the marble floor.

"There you are, Miss Thea," he said lightly.

Thea turned slowly. A small smile touched her lips.

"Mr. Sterling. You’re on time.

Her eyes held his for a moment longer than polite. In the reflection of that crimson moon behind her, Miles thought he caught a flicker—not of an ambassador, but of something far sharper, far more dangerous.