Chapter 241: Light the Flame
The royal wedding rings were the evening's final item—the showstopper. Before that, the auction offered a string of appetizers: porcelain, fabrics, rare flowers, even a lighter and a horseshoe. It felt less like a luxury auction and more like an upscale flea market.
What caught Yunice's attention was Wyatt bidding on several lots of fabric—items no one else was interested in. He secured them easily. Then a Dunhill lighter came up. Yunice leaned forward slightly, her gaze lingering on it. But Wyatt wasn't looking at the stage; his eyes had shifted, sharp and cold, aimed at the general seating above them. Someone was ogling Yunice's legs through the sheer layers of her dress. The man's gaze had gone a bit too low, a bit too long.
As if he could feel Wyatt's warning through the air, the man jumped to his feet and bolted from the room. Someone else bought the lighter. Yunice shifted back slightly in her seat, only then noticing that Wyatt's arm was draped along the back of her chair, his entire posture angled protectively around her. He looked down—thanks to the height difference, all he could see was the curve of her lashes and the tip of her nose. His voice was low. “You liked that lighter?”
Before she could answer, he raised his paddle and said casually, but with a clear edge, “Bring it back. Re-auction it.” Re-auction? At a one-and-done, no-return event like this? Yunice quickly whispered, “Wyatt…” He cut her off. “If you want something, just tell me. I’m not a mind reader. Don’t expect me to guess.” He leaned back in his chair with a scowl, pulling out a cigarette case.
The auction organizer rushed over, bowing, holding the just-removed lighter. “Mr. Wyatt, there’s no need to bid again. Mr. Zimmer said… consider it a gift.” A gift? That word was way too generous.
She took it. It was weighty—made of crocodile leather, with gold and platinum components that resisted tarnish, and fueled by windproof, waterproof alcohol. Very sleek. Very functional. Wyatt held the cigarette in his mouth and patted his pockets, pretending to search for a flame. Then came the soft click of a lighter. He looked up. Yunice held the flame out for him, close to his cigarette. Wyatt stared at her through the flame, his eyes filled with something predatory and amused. He leaned forward slightly. The fire caught the tip of the cigarette. Paul, seated far behind, was fuming—literally grinding his teeth. Wyatt leaned back again, cigarette between his fingers. “Nice lighter,” he said with unhurried satisfaction. Yunice turned her attention back to the auction. But Wyatt’s eyes never left her.
Then came the final item, the royal wedding rings. Whispers buzzed through the crowd—everyone knew this wouldn’t be easy. Plenty of engaged couples or hopeful romantics were ready to fight for this one-of-a-kind token of love. Token of love? The phrase startled Yunice. She didn’t look at Wyatt for a long time after that. The starting price was announced. Bidding began in a flurry—but Wyatt didn’t lift his paddle. He could’ve stepped in at any moment and taken control, but he just… waited. Instead, he took off his jacket and tossed it onto Yunice’s lap. “It’s hot,” he said. So used to ordering people around. Yunice folded the jacket neatly and placed it on her lap, their heads close together. Then his phone rang. Elsie. She asked why he’d left so suddenly. He just said he had something to do. She didn’t pry. Her voice softened. “Paul… did you forget something important?”
Irritated and distracted, Paul snapped, “Can’t think of anything.” Elsie picked up on his mood and backed off, voice barely a whisper. “Okay… I’ll leave you to it, then.” She hung up first. Paul’s frustration only grew. Once upon a time, he’d thought more women meant more excitement. He’d enjoyed the variety, felt powerful. Now he had Elsie—sweet and careful—and Taylor, who came with power and influence. On paper, he had it all. But just sitting here, watching Yunice be happy with another man, made it impossible to care about either of them. He didn’t know if it was jealousy or lingering love—but whatever it was, he hated it. So he decided that if he couldn’t stop feeling this way, then he’d make sure no one left this night unscathed.