A sharp jolt ran through Sera. Abort? Now? Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage. Just as the auctioneer's gavel hovered, poised to declare her the winner, Alaric’s voice crackled again, clearer this time. “Listen carefully, Sera. New plan. Lucius anticipated our move. He’s planted an operative to confirm your identity.” Panic seized her. Confirmation meant exposure. Ruin. Her carefully constructed Evelyn persona would shatter. “There’s a small, ornate jade pendant, Lot 217, being displayed on the side table,” Alaric instructed, his tone a whip-crack of urgency. “It’s a replica of a relic, a known decoy. Forget the Serpent’s Eye. Bid on the pendant. Now.” Blinking, Sera scanned the opulent room. Her eyes darted to the right, finding a velvet-lined display. A small, dull green pendant rested there, unassuming amidst the glittering jewels. It held no allure, no history, nothing they had sought. “But… why?” she whispered into her mic, confusion warring with the terror. “Trust me. This is his weakness. Bid on it. Make it convincing.” His words were curt, leaving no room for argument. Gathering her composure, Sera took a deep breath. She raised her paddle, not for the Serpent’s Eye, but for the jade pendant. “One hundred thousand,” she called out, her voice steadier than she felt. Audible murmurs rippled through the elite crowd. Bidding on a mere replica for such a sum was bizarre, almost insulting to the main event. Lucius’s representative, a woman with eyes like chips of ice, paused her own poised paddle, a flicker of confusion crossing her impassive face. Alaric's plan began to unfold. From a hidden speaker near the auction stage, a calm, authoritative voice suddenly projected, cutting through the murmurs. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have just received critical intelligence regarding a potential security breach. It appears a party in attendance, operating under the guise of 'Silverstream Acquisitions,' has been flagged for attempting to acquire artifacts using illicitly obtained funds.” The room erupted. Gasps, whispers, indignant exclamations. All eyes swung towards Lucius’s representative, whose paddle now trembled slightly. Silverstream Acquisitions was the shell company Alaric had identified weeks ago. “Furthermore,” the voice continued, unwavering, “our internal systems indicate that this individual has been attempting to manipulate bid prices, creating an artificial market surge. We are initiating an immediate investigation.” Lucius's representative froze, her composure cracking. A vein throbbed at her temple. The auctioneer, flustered, looked from the stage to the woman, then back to the now-silent room.

The Twist of Fate