Chapter 10
The auction house doors opened, and Amara stepped out, her head held high, her arm linked with the man in the immaculate suit.
His presence was commanding, his every step exuding quiet power. Amara’s calm demeanor only added fuel to the fire as Ethan and Celeste stormed toward her, their faces twisted with rage.
“How dare you!” Ethan barked, his voice echoing in the cool night air. “You lied to me! You made a fool out of me in front of everyone!”
Amara stopped walking, turning to face him with an icy expression. “I lied to you?” she asked, her voice sharp yet calm. “That’s rich coming from you, Ethan.”
Celeste, clinging to Ethan’s arm, sneered. “You planned this, didn’t you? Switching the statue, humiliating Ethan—it was all your sick little game!”
Amara raised an eyebrow. “And what if it was? What exactly are you angry about, Celeste? That I outsmarted you, or that your plan to ruin me didn’t work?”
“You’re pathetic!” Celeste hissed. “This was supposed to be our moment, Ethan’s success—”
Amara interrupted, her voice cutting through Celeste’s rant like a blade. “Your moment? Since when did you get a say in what belongs to Ethan or me? You’re nothing more than a parasite, clinging to scraps.”
Ethan stepped forward, his fists clenched. “Enough, Amara! Why would you pull something like this? Do you even know what you’ve done?”
“Yes,” Amara said, her voice steady. “I stopped you from selling a priceless gift—something that meant everything to my father and me.” She folded her arms, her gaze unwavering. “I knew exactly what you’d do, Ethan. I wanted to see if, in this life, you would choose loyalty over greed.”
Ethan blinked, confused. “This life? What are you even talking about?”
Amara smirked but didn’t answer. She turned her attention to the man standing beside her, who had been silently watching the exchange.
“Let’s go,” she said, her voice soft but firm.
The man nodded and placed a protective hand on Amara’s back, guiding her toward the sleek black car waiting at the curb.
Ethan’s eyes zeroed in on the man’s hand. His blood boiled. “Take your hands off my wife,” he demanded, his voice shaking with barely contained fury.
The man paused, turning his head slightly to look at Ethan. His expression was unreadable, his calm demeanor only further enraging Ethan.
Ethan took a step forward, pointing an accusing finger. “Who the hell are you? What’s your game here?”
The man’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he turned back to Amara, offering her his hand.
Ethan’s face twisted in anger. “Amara, this isn’t funny! You’re my wife, not his! Whatever this is—whatever game you’re playing—it ends here!”
Adrian raised a hand, silencing Ethan effortlessly. “Let me make one thing clear, Mr. Hart,” he said, his tone firm yet composed. “Amara is her own person. She’s not an object to be claimed or controlled. And as for your accusations… perhaps you should reflect on why your wife felt the need to test your loyalty in the first place.”
Ethan’s face turned red, his fists trembling. “You don’t get to come here and tell me how to handle my marriage!”
Celeste, sensing the shift in power, tried to interject. “Ethan, let’s just go. This isn’t worth it.”
“Stay out of this!” Ethan snapped, jerking his arm away from her grip.
“Amara,” the man said again softly, “shall we?”
She took his hand without hesitation, her confidence rattling Ethan even further.
“That’s it!” Ethan shouted, his voice cracking, losing his temper completely. “Who do you think you are, walking around like you own the place? And what’s your connection to my wife?”
The man turned to face him fully now, his posture calm but commanding. His piercing gaze met Ethan’s, and for a moment, the air seemed to still.
“My name is Adrian Moretti,” he said quietly, his voice as smooth as silk.
Ethan’s jaw dropped.
Celeste let out an audible gasp, her hand flying to her mouth. “Adrian Moretti? The Adrian Moretti?”
