Chapter 37

In a surprising move, Roger shot his paddle into the air. "Six hundred million!"

Shock rippled through the audience, jaws dropping all around.

Excitement that had just filled the hall instantly evaporated, replaced by a hush so heavy it felt unnatural.

Speculation darted from face to face-nobody could figure out what possessed Roger to act like this.

Why compete with Waylon now, after giving up the Adam's Heart? Was it truly about Marilee, or something more?

A wave of attention pressed in on Marilee, and heat crept up her cheeks.

No one else realized that Roger's battle with Waylon wasn't about her at all. At its core, this was for the artist, Sirius.

Roger paid no mind to the whispers or gaping stares.

This entire evening had left him simmering. Losing ground to Waylon-whether in business or over the coveted crown-gnawed at him.

But when it came to Sirius, his resolve was unshakeable.

One look from Roger told Waylon everything he needed to know. Recognizing that possessive glare,Waylon let a wry smile touch his lips and murmured something to the attendant. Moments later, the attendant stepped confidently onto the auction platform.

A bright smile spread across the attendant's face as she addressed the crowd. "For the painting of Sirius,Mr. Mason guarantees to top any offer by an additional three hundred million. Please, the bidding continues."

Waylon's unwavering intent became unmistakable with that single statement.

A wave of murmurs swept through the room,leaving all eyes and pressure trained on Roger.

Every bidder in attendance had already passed strict financial screening before being allowed in. Whether playing with their fortunes or chasing after a dream,there were hard limits here. Anyone who bid beyond their verified means would be disqualified.

Waylon had the luxury of limitless play, but Roger risked exposing his own vulnerability by pushing any further.

The Gibson fortune simply didn't mneasure up to the Mason family's might.

With furrowed brows, Alexia regarded Waylon,graveness settling in her features. "Are you actually serious about this?"

A quick nod from Waylon followed. "When it comes to money, I never joke."

Alexia, unconvinced, asked, "So, Sirius matters to you that much? Or is this just about proving a point?"

Waylon replied, "Why does it matter? I get what l want."

Nothing about his self-assurance surprised Alexia anymore. Her eyes drifted to Roger, reading the tension in his posture without letting her feelings show.

Not so long ago, she would have bent over backward just to see Roger's wishes granted.

Now, the person she used to be felt distant, almost unrecognizable.

Marilee's voice trembled with concern. "Roger..." For the first time, she questioned whether she truly understood him. She always believed she could influence him, but the night's auction revealed a reckless, unfamiliar side.

He was ready to sacrifice everything for a woman he'd never even met. The Adam's Heart-a prize Marilee herself had coveted-meant little to him compared to this.

A hint of worry clouded Marilee's eyes, though she managed to keep her voice gentle. "Let's not push this any further. If your grandfather hears about tonight, you know he'll explode. Waylon has made it clear-he's determined to own that painting.Challenging him here... what would that mean for the Gibson family's future?"

She found it hard to believe Roger could be this blind to their predicament, unless his obsession with Sirius had truly consumed him.

Her caution hit Roger with the weight of truth. He cast a sidelong glance at Waylon and responded with a bitter, hollow laugh.

Only men knew what it took to break another man's spirit. Waylon wielded his wealth and status like a weapon,smothering his pride for all to see.

Anything he set his sights on, Waylon snatched away with ease.

Silence settled across the hall as the auctioneer began the final countdown. When Roger didn't so much as flinch, the crowd shot each other looks of understanding.

No matter how stubborn he was, even Roger had his limits.

The sound of the gavel broke the tension, and with that, the painting belonged to Waylon-at the price of nine hundred million.

No one gasped, no one cried out, but a quiet ripple of conversation circled the room, eyes drifting back to Roger.

"Did he really just walk away from it all?"

"What choice did he really have? Refusing to back down would've forced Allen to apologize in person tomorrow. The poor old man shouldn't have to deal with messes like this at his age."

"Why did Roger even think he could challenge Waylon? Now he's trapped, and everyone's watching -what a mess for him."

"It's always about chasing after a woman, isn't it? In the end, Waylon's just better at this game. Men trying to outdo one another only end up looking ridiculous."

Every word, tinged with derision, pressed heavily on Roger's mood. His expression grew darker by the second, a deep resentment for Alexia flooding in,washing away any last trace of regret he'd felt for her.

In his mind, if she hadn't butted heads with him,Waylon would've stayed out of it, and he wouldn't be the joke of the night.

Eyes fixed on Alexia's retreating figure, bitterness twisted his features. "She's nothing but trouble."