“Huh?!” Benedict almost bit his tongue from shock. He looked down at his outfit and felt like he was wearing a suit made of money instead of fabric.
Bonnie casually said, “You can bid on anything you like.”
Then, one of Orson’s paintings appeared onstage with a starting price of four million dollars. Benedict was stunned beyond words, thinking that it was just a painting.
‘Just how expensive can it be?’
Bonnie saw his reaction and thought he liked it. She said, “Three million dollars!”
He gasped. “S-Sis?! Do you like that painting?”
She asked back, “I thought you liked it?”
His jaw dropped. Of course, he was moved, but he hastily explained, “N-Not really. I was just surprised that a painting could be worth that much.”
“Oh, so that’s what it was. I guess I’ll stop bidding then. I don’t even have to bid on it, either. I know Orson personally, so it wouldn’t have been an issue to ask him to make a painting for me.”
Benedict was astounded, thinking, ‘I know Bonnie’s incredible, but the more I learn about her, the less I think I know her.’
Harold and Yolanda heard Bonnie’s bid from the auction floor. They glanced toward the private room, and Yolanda asked in exasperation, “Who was that? She’s dumping loads of cash where it’s unnecessary. Jeez, she could’ve bought something else to show off her wealth.
Why does she have to steal Master Orson’s painting from us? Not only that, but she also raised the price too high. How are we supposed to bid on it now?”
“Lower your voice. The people here are the wealthiest and most influential in their respective cities. We, however, don’t belong here. People like us only manage to enter through unconventional means.
“That means people with private rooms are worlds above us regarding social status. There are a lot of ears here. If anyone catches us dissing someone we’re not supposed to, we might drag our whole family down.”
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