Chapter 346

Olivia Sinclair had come to the auction house with purpose. Since she was already present, she decided to make her first purchase since returning to Crestwood. She dismissed the manager with a wave of her hand and directed her wheelchair toward the prestigious No. 1 private room.

Her path was abruptly blocked by a wall of black-suited bodyguards.

Olivia's eyebrows arched in silent question. The manager had specifically mentioned this room wasn't reserved.

A nearby attendant rushed forward. "Excuse me, but who occupies this room? Our records show it wasn't booked today. Could there be some mistake?"

Before anyone could respond, a middle-aged man with an air of superiority emerged. His tailored suit screamed wealth, marking him as some aristocrat's personal attendant. Olivia remained hidden behind her oversized sunglasses and silk mask - not yet ready to reveal her identity on her first day back in Crestwood.

The butler barely glanced at Olivia before addressing the attendant with dripping condescension. "We didn't make reservations because we hadn't planned to come. My mistress decided to grace your establishment on a whim. Does it truly matter now that we're here? You should consider it an honor that she chose your venue at all."

A soft chuckle escaped Olivia's lips.

The attendant's expression hardened. "Is that so? Then your mistress must be quite important. Perhaps you'd care to share her name?"

The butler's smirk turned predatory, his patience visibly thinning. "Clearly you're new to Crestwood if you don't recognize my mistress. Otherwise, you wouldn't dare challenge her for this room."

With a flick of his wrist, the butler produced something that made the attendant's neutral expression transform into alarm. He leaned close to Olivia, whispering urgently, "That's Sebastian Whitmore's fiancée - our auction director. They're to be married soon. She rarely visits, but when she does..."

His voice dropped lower. "For some reason she's insisting on this particular room today. Should I notify Mr. Whitmore?"

Olivia gave an almost imperceptible nod. She had no desire to cause trouble for her employees' families. Though she found Sebastian's fiancée distasteful, she couldn't deny the auction house had flourished under his management. This petty squabble wasn't worth ruining her homecoming.

"Never mind," Olivia said, her voice like winter frost. "The second private room will suffice."

The attendant nodded and began maneuvering Olivia's wheelchair away.

Unexpectedly, the butler stepped directly into their path, his gaze locked onto Olivia. "Just who exactly are you? You still haven't identified yourself. Gaining access to private room No. 1 isn't something just anyone can do."

The attendant's voice turned icy. "Who she is and where she's from doesn't concern you. What matters is she's not someone your mistress can afford to cross."

With that final warning, the attendant guided Olivia away.

The butler spat on the polished floor, muttering curses as he stormed back into the private room.

Behind an ornate screen in the No. 1 private room, a voluptuous woman lounged with visible irritation. Her honeyed voice carried an edge as sharp as broken glass. "Who does that presumptuous cripple think she is? How dare she attempt to take what's mine?"

The butler sighed dramatically. "She refused to identify herself, yet everyone treats her with deference. From her bearing alone... had she insisted on this room, we would have had no choice but to vacate."