Farewell to Love: The CEO's Desperate Chase novel Chapter 90

Emilia's expression remained as composed as ever.

Anyone inside The Glenn Group could have found out this information—it didn't prove anything.

"Do you know Emilia?" George suddenly asked.

"No," Emilia replied, her voice calm and unruffled.

George scratched his head, puzzled. "I just can't figure it out."

Emilia smiled, turning to look at him. "That's nothing unusual. Maybe she liked that tanzanite once, but then she sold it to someone else. After passing through a few hands, it finally ended up at this auction."

"That's not the same," George insisted, his tone serious. "I've heard she was really attached to that tanzanite. I heard she had to make some sacrifices to get it in the first place, so it doesn't make sense she'd let it go so easily."

Emilia studied him for a long moment, long enough that he started to feel uneasy.

At last, she smiled faintly. "But in the end, she did let it go, didn't she?"

The fact that the tanzanite had made it to the charity auction meant that, whether it was Emilia or any of the later owners, they'd all decided to sell it off.

George went quiet, caught off guard by how much sense that made. He couldn't find a single reason to argue back.

"If you'll excuse me," Emilia said, nodding politely before turning to head down the corridor.

She'd barely taken a few steps when she nearly bumped into Vivienne, coming straight toward her. Emilia felt a headache coming on—she'd hoped to avoid this woman, but Vivienne was clearly intent on intercepting her.

"Serena!" Vivienne called out first.

Emilia stopped, facing her calmly, unsure what Vivienne wanted to say.

"I'm warning you—back off while you still can," Vivienne's eyes glittered with threat. "You're just Christian's date tonight. Show a little respect for Tyler, at least. This path you're on will only end badly for both you and Christian."

Emilia had had enough of Vivienne's smugness; she didn't bother to respond, simply walked away.

"Serena, this is your last chance!" Vivienne's voice rang out behind her. "You're going to lose, and badly. I'll be waiting for you to come begging!"

Emilia paused for just a moment, then kept walking. She had no desire to run into anyone else in this hallway, so she turned and headed up to the rooftop garden on the third floor.

The small garden was crowded. Industry leaders, famous collectors, even celebrities—all mingled here, champagne flutes in hand. Golden bubbles sparkled in the glasses, and with every nod and every toast, a silent understanding seemed to pass between guests.

Soft piano music floated on the air, the lighting was elegant and romantic—this was the very picture of luxury, glamour, and unspoken deals.

Emilia wandered to a quiet corner, picked up a glass of champagne, and took a slow sip, letting the night breeze wash over her.

Around her, the hum of conversation never ceased.

"The third item up tonight is impressive, too," someone nearby commented. "It's the diary of that little girl who's gravely ill. Definitely a collector's piece."