From Terrorist Cell to Diamond Prison

Chapter 20

Fiona didn't hesitate, immediately raising her bid.

"$4 million!" she called out, her voice cutting through the room.

She hadn't shown any interest throughout the entire auction. The ruby necklace meant nothing to her. Her goal was just to ruin Rosalie's moment.

Unwilling to back down, Rosalie countered.

"$5 million!"

But before Fiona could react, the man beside her calmly raised his paddle. A deep, steady voice filled the hall.

"$10 million."

Rosalie froze, her hand still half-raised. When Mr. Fitzgerald saw it was Luke, she gently pressed Rosalie's hand down, shaking her head. Reluctantly, Rosalie lowered her paddle.

"$10 million going once, $10 million going twice… sold for $10 million!"

The auctioneer's voice rang out, and the crowd buzzed with murmurs.

"Congratulations to Mr. Williams on winning this unique white ruby necklace."

Through it all, Luke's gaze never left Rosalie, as if he couldn't tear his eyes away. Mr. Fitzgerald, watching the tension between them, began to piece together the complicated dynamics. If she wasn't mistaken, Rosalie's rival was her "aunt" and Luke's fiancée. What kind of elder competed so openly with her niece?

Patting Rosalie's shoulder, Mr. Fitzgerald offered her a small, reassuring smile.

"Don't worry. What's meant for you can't be taken away."

As they exited, the whispers about the extravagant price Luke had paid swirled around them. Rosalie didn't fully grasp Mr. Fitzgerald's words, but when they stepped outside, she saw Luke's car parked across the street, waiting. Only a single road separated them, but Luke's gaze on her was distant, as if she was just a fading memory, something just out of reach.

Rosalie reminded herself not to read into it. What was left between them was only the residue of shared years, nothing more.

Mr. Fitzgerald gave her a nudge.

"Go on."

Rosalie climbed into the car, and Luke drove off in silence. The confined space felt heavy with unspoken tension. After a long moment, Luke leaned over, and Rosalie instinctively pulled back.

He stopped and looked at her.

"Your seatbelt."

She quickly clicked it into place.

"Thank you, Mr. Williams."

Hearing her formal response hit him harder than he expected. There was a time when she'd asked for a special nickname, something just for them, a connection only between them. He'd brushed it off, telling her to hold back her feelings. Now, she seemed perfectly capable of restraint, and for some reason, that stung.

They drove silently along the coast, eventually reaching the stretch of sea Rosalie had often gazed at as a child.

"Have you been doing well, Rosa?" Luke asked after a long silence.

Rosalie nodded.

"Never been better, Mr. Williams."

Luke studied her, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"So, life's better without me, huh?"

She heard the bitterness in his voice but couldn't understand why. After all, he had been the one to push her away.

"I just thought you and Aunt Fiona would be more comfortable without me around," she replied, her tone neutral.

Luke pulled the car over by the coast, then turned to face her.

"So, you think she means more to me than you do?"

For the first time, Rosalie felt the weight of exhaustion in the conversation.

"You said it yourself," she said quietly. "I'm just the girl you raised. Nothing special."

Luke's grip on the steering wheel tightened, her words landing like a punch. He hadn't expected his own past words to hit him like this.

"And besides," she added softly, "who matters to you or who doesn't… it doesn't matter to me anymore."