Chapter 10 You Don’t Have a Clue
Chapter 10 You Don’t Have a Clue
Alisa arrived at the hotel.
Ricky trailed behind, giving his report.
“First thing this morning, Mrs. Cantrell and Mr. Cantrell are waiting for you in the office. They’re still there.”
“Smart of them,” Alisa said coolly.”
When she entered the office, Nydia and Stephan sprang to their feet.
“Ms. Roffe, you’re finally here.”
Alisa gave them a quick once–over. “I told you I’d come to you if I needed something. What are you doing here?”
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Nydia, still a little rattled from last night, tried to tread carefully. “Ms. Roffe, about what happened yesterday evening…
Walking to her chair, Alisa said darkly, “Last night? Don’t worry, I’m not suffering from memory loss. I remember it perfectly
well.”
Nydia pressed her lips together.
“Think of it this way,” Alisa said smoothly. “Even if I know your little secret, it doesn’t have to be a problem. There’s a saying- partners in crime. From now on, when you step into this hotel, I’ve got your back. Inside, you’re a married couple; outside, just in–laws again. Pretty neat, right?”
The room fell silent.
Ricky, standing to the side, widened his eyes.
Holy smokes. Did she just say that out loud?
Stephan’s brow furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like,” -Alisa replied. “Play nice, and I won’t make trouble for you.”
It almost sounded as if she truly didn’t intend to do anything to them.
But the fact remained: she knew something that could ruin them; this knowledge will always hang as a threat.
If it were anyone else, it might be easy enough to take care of.
But this was Alisa; behind her stood the Roffes. She wasn’t the kind of person you could simply erase.
In this particular standoff, they were the weaker side. She had the leverage, and they knew it,
“I get it,” Nydia said at last. “You just want to use the situation to achieve something on your end. Fine. I can go along with that. But you’d better make sure the word never gets out–because if I go down, I’ll make sure you do too.”
“Relax,” Alisa said. “I’ve got no interest in going down with you.”
Nydia gave a short nod. She and Stephan exchanged a glance, then turned and left.
As they stepped out, Nydia’s gaze snagged on the tall wooden cabinet against the wall. On the very top shelf sat the broken Camera Stephan had smashed the night before.
It felt like a silent warning–Alisa’s reminder that she held their leverage and that they’d better not try anything funny.
A chill slid down Nydia’s spine, and an icy dread rose sharply in Stephan’s heart.
Then they were gone.
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3:14 PM P
Chapter 10 You Don’t Have a Clue
Ten minutes later, the front desk reported their checkout.
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The Cantrell Auction House was set to hold its mid–month auction in a few days.
Vania’s birthday would be at the end of the month.
That evening, Alisa sought out Preston to ask what he planned to get their grandmother.
Preston was out in the courtyard, practicing his punches.
Alisa lounged in a wicker chair, idly fanning herself. “Preston, Grandma’s birthday is coming up. What are you getting her?” Preston put his hands down, wiping the sweat from his brow with a towel..
He said, “Not sure, but the Cantrell Auction House is putting a batch of antiques up for bid mid–month. I’m thinking I might try my luck there, see if I find something she’d like.
What about you?” he asked.
Alisa smiled. “No idea. But hey, how about I come with you to the auction? I’ve never been–could be fun to see how it all works.”
“Of course,” Preston said easily, his face softening with warmth. “If you’re coming, you can keep me company. Tell you what— if you see something you like, I’ll buy it for you.”
“Thanks, Preston.”
“We’re family–no need to thank me. Now I’m going to shower. You should get some rest too.”
“Alright.”
Having secured Preston’s agreement to attend the auction together, Alisa’s goal was met. She set down her fan with satisfaction and left the courtyard.
Two days later, auction day arrived.
That evening, Alisa and Preston pulled up together, making no effort to hide their arrival.
The Cantrell Auction House had a way of keeping people on their toes. The wealth–check threshold was different and each guest had their bidding assistant on hand to raise paddles and relay prices, Seating was handled with meticulous care–arranged in a circle around the auctioneer, with no distinction between important and less important patrons, all to avoid offending anyone.
every
time,
There were only a little over 20 seats in the room. Once Alisa and Preston found theirs, they sat down
Alisa let her gaze drift casually across the room. No sign of Sabrina.
In the original chain of events, this was supposed to be Sabrina’s big, show–stealing moment.
The Nelsons had already fallen from grace–by all logic, she shouldn’t have been anywhere near the Cantrell Auction House. But Preston, remembering all too well how Sabrina had crashed Cordelia’s wedding, would spot her, and that’s when the trouble would start. He’d loudly mock her for sneaking in, even suggesting she might be here to steal something.
And then she would pull out an invitation. A real one.
Before the auction even began, Preston had already made a scene—and taken his first blow to the face. Not willing to let it go, The decided to push it further, loudly questioning whether Sabrina’s invitation was even real, accusing her of forging it.
What he didn’t expect was for the staff to step forward and clarify the matter on the spot.
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3:14 PM P
Chapter 10 You Don’t Have a Clue
The invitation was genuine; it was an internal VIP pass.
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And the real kicker? Sabrina wasn’t here to buy anything. She was a partner in the event, the consignor of several valuable paintings up for sale.
That was Preston’s second humiliation of the night. He couldn’t stomach it.
She didn’t look like someone who owned anything worth auctioning off.
So, fueled by arrogance, he claimed her paintings were fakes. Sabrina, never one to pass up an opening, needled him into a
bet.
If the paintings were fake, she’d leave Qodon and never return.
If they were real, Preston would call her Mommy in front of everyone and polish her shoes.
It was a trap, and he knew it, but to refuse would make him look like a coward. So, he agreed.
The result? Predictable.
Auction House experts were called in to authenticate the paintings on the spot. Sabrina revealed herself as none other than Mino, the celebrated and elusive artist. Preston suffered his third public disgrace, his pride in ruins, his name destined to be the latest running joke in Qodon high society.
Alisa knew this entire humiliating sequence by heart.
And that was why she was here tonight–to keep Preston from barreling headfirst into it again.
Sabrina could unmask herself if she wanted. But publicly humiliate Preston? Not happening.
She leaned toward him, voice low and firm. “Preston, Cordelia’s wedding was bad enough–half the city laughed at us. Tonight, we keep our composure. No stunts. The last thing we need is more gossip to drag home.”
Preston nodded without hesitation. “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”
Alisa’s lips curved faintly.
Sure you do! You haven’t got the faintest clue.
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