He flips through more pages. “Most of these are family heirlooms passed down through generations. The owners are donating it for a better cause.”

Gabriel turns to the last page, which shows a picture of a stunning necklace of heart shaped diamonds. “This necklace, for example, once belonged to Damien’s mother. It was passed down through generations of Duchesses. A year back, David lost it to the Count of Farleigh while gambling. His mother was furious, his father more so to lose such an important piece of their family history. But they were forced to honor David’s word.”

Gabe points to an old lady wearing that necklace. “The Countess of Farleigh has decided to place that necklace on auction tonight. Damien is expected to outbid anyone who bids for it because this is his family heirloom. Everyone knows that his mother wants that necklace back at any cost. A lot of people want what the Duke of Kittridge wants so that bid will be outrageous indeed.”

I don’t get a chance to comment as the auction begins. It staggers me to see how so many of these people are quick to spend hundreds of thousands of pounds, albeit in the name of charity. It’s unbelievable and so above every facet of my life.

I’m a single child to working parents. We are an upper middle-class family and we’re well off in the sense that I have enjoyed a decently good life. My first encounter with real wealth, however, came after I married Damien. But I never let him over spend or over indulge me until Alpha Arc started flourishing. I still remember fighting with him when he bought first class tickets for our honeymoon to Bali. He found it endearing that I wanted to save money.

However, the kind of money being thrown here is beyond my imagination.

The bidding continues and finally the auctioneer calls upon the Countess of Farleigh. Hers is the last piece being bid. She stands as he introduces the piece and announces how old it is, whose family it belonged to, the cut and clarity of its diamonds, etc. All is silent until she sits and the auction begins. The bidding starts at twenty-five thousand pounds. Interested buyers raise their placards and the bid rises slowly.

From the corner of my eye, I see Celia leaning towards Damien, her breast squeezing against his arm. My hand clenches hard against the champagne glass I am holding. Celia inches closer and whispers something in his ear that makes him smile. That’s it! I’m done waiting in the shadows!

“How high do you think this bid will go?” I ask Gabriel through gnashed teeth.

“I think it should close at sixty thousand roughly. Anything more is criminal.”

“And how much is sixty thousand pounds in the scheme of Damien’s wealth?”

Gabriel raises a brow. “Pocket change.”

The bid is now at thirty-two thousand pounds.