Chapter 322

Olivia Sinclair's assistant was quick to clarify. "My employer insists your auction house must rectify this situation immediately. A simple apology won't suffice. Dealing in counterfeit artifacts is a grave violation in our profession. This could ruin your establishment's credibility."

Olivia's expression turned frosty as irritation laced her words. "Let's focus on facts. If an item from my auction proves fraudulent, I'll accept full responsibility. But first, I require proof this purchase occurred here. Sinclair Auctions doesn't traffic in forgeries."

The young man, anticipating her response, stepped forward with a polished wooden box.

Olivia opened it with measured skepticism, revealing shattered porcelain fragments. She selected one piece, examining it under the gallery lights.

Her decade-long expertise in antiquities left no doubt - this was indeed a fake.

Her attention shifted to the silver USB drive nestled among the shards. The impeccably dressed gentleman before her clearly wasn't some common scam artist. Had their rigorous authentication process truly failed?

With growing apprehension, Olivia motioned for a staff member to bring a laptop.

The video footage sprang to life upon inserting the drive.

It showed the post-auction delivery process, capturing a masked staff member carrying items to Suite No.1 where the two men waited.

The assistant, now identifiable as the recipient in the footage, exited with his employer who carefully handled the artifact until it suddenly crumbled.

The entire incident occurred within her auction house's walls, directly contradicting Olivia's earlier assurances.

Her cheeks burned with humiliation as she whispered, "This makes no sense. How could a fake get past our experts?"

Lucas Bennett paled, whispering urgently, "Miss Sinclair, even replicas don't shatter like that. We're being set up."

Olivia's instincts agreed. The delivery staff's concealed faces suggested deliberate concealment - this was no accident.

"I'll handle this," Olivia assured Lucas.

The assistant's frustration boiled over. "Madam, you sang a different tune earlier. Whether he's your employee matters little. My employer was defrauded under your roof. We demand justice."

Olivia, pulse quickening, addressed the silent figure. "How may we rectify this situation?"

The assistant scoffed. "Are you implying my employer wants your money?"

Finally, the masked man spoke, his voice like winter steel slicing through the tension. "Oliver," he commanded. "Enough. Leave us."

The room fell silent at his authority.

Olivia's breath caught. That voice... hauntingly familiar, stirring long-buried memories.

Her gaze locked onto him with new intensity as the room emptied, leaving only Olivia, Isabelle, and the enigmatic stranger.

Little Isabelle, ever curious, inched closer to the masked figure, utterly fascinated by his mysterious presence.