Chapter 606
No.1
[May I ask who you are?]
Isabella received the message while verifying her bank balance. After a moment's thought, she replied. (Mr. Ashford, you finally made your dream a reality. Sometimes, letting go of an obsession can be a form of liberation. After a lifetime of dedication, it's time to live for yourself.)
Frederick Ashford's white eyebrows furrowed deeply as he read the text. The little girl from ten years ago... It was really her...
He had never told anyone what happened after he lost the fashion week competition a decade ago. How he got drunk in a deserted alley. How he met a strangely dressed little girl by chance. He had felt an immediate connection to her, as if she were his own granddaughter. In his drunken state, he had confessed things he never should have said.
When he sobered up, he realized he didn't know her name or how to find her. He never expected to encounter her again a decade later during his auction!
Meanwhile, Seraphina kept typing comments.
[I don't care if this person bids one or two extra dollars! I'll offer a million more! Mr. D.K, you must sell this gown to me! Whatever the price!]
Her career and company were both struggling. Some random stranger thought they could snatch the gown she desired? Absolutely not!
The audience eagerly anticipated the showdown. It seemed these two were prepared for a financial battle. Even if one of them won, the final price would likely reach billions!
No.2
Did this unknown bidder actually have billions to spend?
Suddenly, D.K addressed the camera. "My apologies, everyone. I've decided to sell the gown to the lady I was just speaking with. For one billion dollars."
What?
He chose to sell it to the unknown user?
The entire platform erupted into chaos.
(Why sell to her specifically?)
(Mr. D.K, your gowns are always auctioned. Why break protocol for her?)
(One billion? The final bid would easily surpass that!)
The heated debate intensified. Isabella Montgomery herself was stunned. Was Mr. Ashford serious? They had met only once, a decade ago, when she was still considered unattractive…
No.3
“You heard correctly,” Mr. Ashford stated firmly to the camera. “My decision is final. It is not up for debate.”
Seraphina Delacroix was speechless. She had allocated over ten billion, prepared to crush any competitor. She never expected D.K to simply bypass the auction entirely!
Was this a deliberate insult? A personal slight?
Furious, she typed: (This is unacceptable! I offer 1.5 billion! I stated only I deserve this gown! This violates all auction rules!)
“My apologies,” D.K replied coolly. “I have a preference for the other lady.”
‘Preference’? He would discard established rules based on a mere ‘preference’? He would sell his masterpiece to someone who hadn't even placed a bid?
Blinded by rage, Seraphina threatened: (Mr. D.K, this is a formal auction platform! You must adhere to its rules! The highest bidder wins! Proceed with this, and I will report you for misconduct!)
She was publicly threatening to report him.
In the presidential suite, Sebastian Blackwood frowned at the screen. A single gown causing such an uproar. Why would D.K make such a rash decision? He hadn't even had a chance to bid!
No.4
Failure meant a one-way ticket to Africa, courtesy of his brother.
He immediately called Nathaniel. “Brother, we have a problem,” Sebastian said urgently. “D.K just decided to sell the gown to an anonymous user on the live stream. He’s refusing all further bids. I need you to identify this user immediately.”
He recited the username digits.
“One moment,” Nathaniel’s voice was clipped, his fingers already flying across his keyboard. As the data resolved, his expression hardened. The number belonged to Isabella Montgomery.
It was her all along?
A new thought crystallized. “I’ll handle this personally,” Nathaniel stated, ending the call and opening his contacts.
The live stream descended further into bedlam, but Mr. Ashford remained unshaken.
“My decision stands. Further discussion is pointless.”
Seraphina was livid. “Then prepare for the consequences! I will expose you! You have disrespected every bidder here! The court of public opinion will destroy you!”
No.5
Hearing Seraphina’s tirade, Isabella’s brow furrowed. Seraphina was notoriously unreasonable, but Mr. Ashford had indeed created this situation. If this went public, he would be crucified by Seraphina’s legions of fans. He could face industry-wide blacklisting.
Mr. Ashford was in his eighties. A scandal of this magnitude could be devastating.
Isabella Montgomery was strategizing solutions when Frederick Ashford checked his phone.
His expression shifted instantly.
He addressed the camera with newfound resolve. "I must retract the auction. A private buyer has offered ten billion for this gown."
Ten billion dollars?
Seraphina Delacroix’s shrill voice pierced the air. "Impossible! Who would waste ten billion on that ridiculous dress?"
Frederick’s eyes narrowed. "Client confidentiality is paramount. Ms. Delacroix, control your tone. This auction is concluded."
He terminated the livestream abruptly.
No.6
Seraphina trembled with rage. How dare that washed-up designer dismiss her? He broke his own rules first!
Two enemies had emerged: one who publicly challenged her, another who secretly outbid everyone.
"Find them both," she snarled at her assistant. "I want names now."
Meanwhile, Isabella dissected the situation. Frederick Ashford wasn’t known for capriciousness. His sudden reversal defied logic.
Money over principles? Unlikely. Something else was at play.
Her own investigations hit a wall. The buyer’s identity remained shrouded.
Seraphina, however, had better luck. Isabella’s platform registration used her personal number. A skilled hacker easily breached the database.
Seraphina’s call came through moments later.
"Of course it was you," she sneered. "Isabella Montgomery. You overreach constantly. What gives you the right to challenge me? Your net worth doesn’t even approach mine!"
No.7
Isabella remained silent, letting her rant unfold.
"You lost too, didn’t you? Outbid by ten billion. Pathetic. If you truly wanted it, why not offer twenty? Oh, wait—you can’t."
Seraphina’s laughter was venomous. "You wanted that dress for the Celestial Gala? Dream on. You’ll never win Best Supermodel. That’s my title. You’ll be lucky to present some minor award. How embarrassing—showing up in a masterpiece for a nothing role."
"Except you don’t have the dress! The great Isabella Montgomery, humiliated. Serves you right. You think you deserve D.K.? Never."
Isabella waited until the tirade ended. Her voice was ice-calm. "Perhaps. But if you’re not careful, your entire company will face karma. I’ll acquire it piece by piece."
"Don’t you dare poach my artists!" Seraphina shrieked.
Isabella’s smile was lethal. "Your contracts are legally fragile. One misstep from you, and I’ll dismantle everything you’ve built. Remember that."
She ended the call, the threat hanging in the air.
Isabella felt the venom in Seraphina’s voice even through the phone. Her expression darkened instantly.