An engine roared through the stillness of the night.
A luxury car tore toward the city center, screeching to a halt beneath Bradley’s lavish apartment complex just ten minutes later.
Darren stepped out, radiating such a cold, menacing energy that the security guard—who’d started to approach—quickly thought better of it and swallowed his words.
He strode into the lobby, made a beeline for the elevator, and stormed down the hall to the door of Bradley’s eighth-floor penthouse.
Clenching his fists, he pounded on the door—hard.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
“Charlotte! Open the door!”
“I’ll give you three seconds. Get out here, now!”
The furious pounding rattled the walls, but the door didn’t budge.
Darren lost all patience and kicked at the door, each blow fueling the rage in his eyes.
“Bradley! Charlotte! Get out here, or I’ll tear this place apart!”
“Last three seconds! Out, now!”
Inside, just on the other side of the door, Bradley stood calmly at the entryway’s security monitor, swirling a glass of red wine as he watched the drunken man on the screen lose control.
Eventually, Darren was dragged away by the Harrington family’s bodyguards…
The rest of the night was chaos.
The next morning, at ten o’clock, outside the Astra Auction House.
The Harrington family’s car had barely pulled up before a swarm of reporters blocked the door.
“Mr. Harrington! Mrs. Harrington!”
A reporter squeezed to the front, microphone in hand, voice brimming with excitement. “Are you here today for the legendary Haimo Blue diamond?”
“Mrs. Harrington, your custom blue dress is the exact shade of the Haimo Blue! Was that planned in advance?”
“Mrs. Harrington, you’re so lucky—Mr. Harrington really knows how to spoil his wife!”
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