She Laughed at His $500 Bid—Then the Auctioneer Said, “The Factory Is His.”
Chapter 3
For three seconds, there was nothing but darkness.
Then someone screamed.
Vivian heard footsteps.
Fast.
Close.
A chair toppled.
Something struck the floor.
Ethan grabbed her wrist.
“Don’t move.”
His palm was warm around hers.
She heard the scrape of a door opening somewhere behind them.
Then a man’s voice.
“Where is the folder?”
Vivian froze.
Ethan pulled her behind a row of stacked chairs.
The emergency lights flickered on.
Red.
Dim.
Enough to reveal the chaos.
People were rushing toward the exits.
The auctioneer was on the floor.
And the gray-suited man stood near the doorway.
He wasn’t looking at Vivian.
He was looking directly at Ethan.
“Give me the documents,” the man said.
Ethan stepped forward.
“No.”
The man’s jaw tightened.
“You don’t understand what you’ve inherited.”
“I understand enough.”
The man reached inside his coat.
Vivian saw the metallic flash.
Ethan moved before she could scream.
He shoved the auctioneer’s table sideways.
The gunshot shattered the room.
Glass exploded from the nearest window.
People dropped.
Ethan grabbed Vivian and dragged her through a side door.
They ran down a narrow corridor smelling of dust and wet concrete.
Vivian stumbled.
“Who was that?”
“Someone who wants you dead.”
“You brought him here!”
“No.”
“Then why did he know about the factory?”
Ethan stopped.
His breathing was hard.
Rain hammered the roof overhead.
He looked at her as if deciding whether he could trust her.
“Because your father left me instructions.”
“What instructions?”
Ethan reached into his coat.
He pulled out a small brass key.
On it was a number.
17.
Vivian stared at it.
“My father had a private office.”
“Not anymore.”
“What does that mean?”
“The office was searched last night.”
Vivian felt cold despite the damp air.
“By whom?”
Ethan looked back toward the corridor.
“That’s what we’re going to find out.”
Then a second set of footsteps echoed behind them.
Someone else had followed.
