Chapter 854
No.1
A shadow passed over her eyes as the memory surfaced. The past held a painful grip on her heart.
Ten years ago, Isabella Montgomery was only thirteen. She was the adopted daughter of the Montgomery family, just starting seventh grade. Under Victoria Kensington's influence, she became obsessed with gothic fashion. While everyone else dressed elegantly, she wore bizarre outfits. She went to school with wild, untamed hair. She became an object of ridicule. The entire Montgomery family despised her.
Victoria would always tell her, "Isabella, remember this. Everyone has the right to be unique and beautiful. We don't all have to be the same. Alexander loves your uniqueness! Even if your family hates you, you still have us!"
Isabella was completely fooled by their manipulation. She believed her family didn't understand her. She thought they didn't support her interests. During one heated argument, she ran away from home. That's when she accidentally met D.K.
Back then, D.K was just a local designer. His real name was Frederick Ashford. He came from the Ashford family, which had over a century of embroidery history. Legend said their ancestors served the royal family for generations. Unfortunately, machines replaced hand embroidery. Traditional clothing was overtaken by modern designs.
The Ashford family gradually faded into obscurity. But Frederick remained dedicated to traditional wear. His girlfriend thought he was too old-fashioned and stubborn. She eventually broke up with him. That breakup inspired him to blend modern designs with traditional techniques. He created elegant gowns that bridged past and present.
D.K were his ex-girlfriend's initials. Sadly, when he became less stubborn, she didn't return. She had died in a car accident the day she left him.
That was ten years ago. Frederick told Isabella everything while drunk on the roadside. He even said, "She loved red gowns. She said people would notice her immediately in red. After her death, I made a gown in her favorite shade. I called it Phoenix. I hoped she could come back to life, reborn like a phoenix."
"But I know that's impossible. I started this project when I was thirty. Now I'm seventy. I lack the courage to finish it. I'm afraid once it's done, she still won't return. I'm scared my only belief will disappoint me in the end."
No.2
"I lost this year's fashion week. I felt my Phoenix could win. But I just can't bring myself to complete it!"
"If I ever finish it one day, it means I'm ready to leave this world. I can finally go meet her."
"Young lady, Phoenix represents my lifelong devotion. It's my life's work. Do you think I can make it happen?"
Young Isabella listened to the drunk old man's rambling. She didn't understand what 'devotion' meant back then. She didn't take it seriously. Yet, this memory stayed vivid in her mind all these years. Even now, she could recall Frederick's expression clearly. His face was full of passion and nostalgia.
After Alexander cheated on her, Isabella suddenly understood Frederick's story. She felt it deeply. Frederick's devotion to his ex-girlfriend was something Isabella would never experience. She knew no one would mourn her death. No one would miss her for that long.
So she wanted to buy this gown. Not because it was unique. But because Frederick's raw passion and love shouldn't be ruined by ignorant people.
Meanwhile, the bidding price reached eighty million. People were throwing money around without understanding the gown's true value.
Finally, a user named 'Seraphina Delacroix' commented, [One billion!]
The live-stream chat exploded in shock.
No.3
[Seraphina Delacroix? The world's sexiest supermodel?]
[One billion? Is she serious? It's just a gown! How is it worth a billion?!]
[Seraphina, have you lost your mind?]
[I'm not crazy. I'm rich! I'm buying it no matter what! Anyone else want to challenge me?] Seraphina typed her response immediately.
Isabella had been dominating the modeling industry lately. Many artists from her company wanted to terminate their contracts. Seraphina Delacroix was furious about the situation. She just wanted to vent her anger through extravagant spending.
Plus, as the most celebrated supermodel, she needed to stun everyone at the Celestial Gala tomorrow night. She had to outshine everyone, especially Isabella!
When Isabella saw Seraphina's comment, her lips curled into a cold smirk. Her fingers began typing on the keyboard.
[I'll add one more dollar to any bid Seraphina Delacroix makes.]
The comment instantly captured the attention of everyone watching the live stream.
No.4
(An extra dollar? Hah! Who is this? What a bold move!)
(Definitely one of Seraphina's haters. They're deliberately trying to provoke her!)
Seraphina Delacroix trembled with rage. She tried to identify the user, but the account was just a random string of numbers. No clues at all.
She typed furiously. (Who are you? Are you targeting me on purpose?)
Isabella Montgomery replied: [Targeting you? Sorry, but you're not that important. I simply admire Mr. Ashford's gown design and must have it.]
A viewer commented: (Another wealthy contender! I wonder who will win this bidding war.)
(Probably Seraphina. She's one of the richest models in America. Money is no object for her!)
[No matter how rich this mystery bidder is, can they really outspend Seraphina Delacroix?]
Meanwhile, Frederick Ashford stared intently at his screen. He had used the pseudonym D.K for fifty years. The public only knew him as D.K. How did this person know his real surname was Ashford?
No.5
Amid the ongoing bids, he picked up his phone and sent Isabella a private message.
[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!
No.6
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!
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!)
No.7
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…
“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.