Chapter 361

The afternoon sun cast golden streaks across Olivia Sinclair's office when Amelia Dawson rushed in with urgent news. "Our sources confirm the Blackwood family is making political maneuvers. Mrs. Beatrice Ellington is hosting a lavish birthday gala next week."

Amelia hesitated before continuing. "She's renowned for her passion for rare art. We've just secured that coveted Renaissance masterpiece—the one the Blackwoods have been desperate to acquire. Should we postpone tomorrow's auction?"

Olivia arched a perfectly sculpted brow, a slow smirk playing on her lips.

"Postpone? Absolutely not." She leaned forward, eyes gleaming with strategy. "We'll display it front and center. Let the whispers spread that Mrs. Ellington adores this piece. Make it impossible for the Blackwoods to resist."

Amelia nodded, already drafting the plan.

Despite her lingering injuries, Olivia insisted on attending the auction. As she adjusted her blazer, little Isabelle darted forward, tiny fingers clutching her sleeve.

"Mommy, stay home," Isabelle pleaded, her wide eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "You're still hurt."

Olivia's heart clenched. The accident had left deeper scars than physical ones—Isabelle now woke screaming from nightmares, terrified her mother would vanish.

Kneeling, Olivia cupped her daughter's face. "Sweetheart, I promise I'll be safe. Stay with Great-Grandfather, and when I return, we'll have that ice cream date, okay?"

Isabelle sniffled but finally released her grip. "If you break your promise, you owe me extra sprinkles."

Olivia laughed, pressing a kiss to her forehead before leaving.

At the auction house, she expected the VIP suite to be occupied—yet Sebastian Whitmore had reserved it exclusively for her.

"You didn't need to do this," Olivia remarked as he escorted her inside. "Profit over personal favors, Sebastian."

He offered a tired smile. "No one booked it today."

A lie. As they passed Suite No. 2, a woman's furious shrieks pierced the air—undoubtedly Sebastian's fiancée, displeased with his priorities.

Olivia studied his weary expression. "Take the day off. Smooth things over before she sets this place on fire."

Sebastian exhaled, rubbing his temples. "If only it were that simple."

The tension between them crackled—unspoken alliances, unfulfilled promises.

Olivia settled into the plush seating, her gaze fixed on the auction floor.

The game had begun.