Filed to story: Seventeen Heartbreaks: When Love Has No Voice
Sophie nodded vigorously, her decision made.
Davis, however, expressed his concern, “Miss, I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
Leila’s response was reassuring as she scooped Sophie into her arms. “Don’t worry. If she’s anything like her mother, a bit of boldness is fine. I’m here to keep her safe.”
With Sophie securely in her arms, Leila approached room No.1. Instead of barging in, she opted for a polite approach, tapping lightly on the door.
“Come in, please,” responded a clear, youthful voice from inside, inviting them to enter.
The timbre of his voice betrayed his youth-no more than a teenager by the sound of it.
Leila’s brow furrowed in confusion. Was this client really that young?
Clutching Sophie close, Leila ventured forward, her mind a whirlwind of doubt.
Upon entering, her eyes met those of the two men inside, one relatively younger.
Indeed, a teenager was there, but clearly in the company of another.
Also present was a man lounging on the sofa, exuding a powerful presence and an air of nobility. His posture was relaxed yet deliberate, legs crossed, hands resting gently on his abdomen. His face was a mystery, veiled behind a mask, leaving only his piercing eyes visible. Those eyes fixed on Leila, and a shiver ran down her spine. It was as if he could see right through to her most guarded secrets with just a glance.
Leila’s focus faltered momentarily, but she quickly regained her composure. Setting Sophie down, she addressed the room with a polite nod, “Good day. I’m the owner of this establishment. I understand there have been issues with a previous purchase here. I’d appreciate more details so we can resolve this matter.”
The man responded not with words, but a subtle flick of his fingers.
His younger companion was quick to clarify. “My boss believes your auction house must address this. An apology won’t suffice. Selling counterfeits is a serious breach in our industry. It could severely damage your reputation.”
Leila’s demeanor chilled as irritation flickered in her voice. “Let’s stay on point. If an item from my auction is at fault, I will certainly take responsibility. However, I need confirmation that the purchase was made here. We do not deal in forgeries.”
Having predicted her response, the young man stepped forward, presenting a box.
Leila opened it with a skeptical eye, revealing shattered ceramic shards. She picked up a piece, scrutinizing it closely.
Her years in the business had honed her expertise, and she recognized immediately that it was a counterfeit.
Her gaze then shifted to a USB drive also lying in the box, her suspicion deepening. The composure of the affluent man before her made it clear that he wasn’t the type to fabricate claims for extortion. Had a counterfeit really slipped through their stringent processes?
With gravity settling over her, Leila summoned a staff member to fetch a computer.
Plugging in the USB drive, a video flickered to life on the screen.
It captured the moments post-auction, showing a member of her staff delivering items to Room No.1, where the two had awaited.
The young man, now revealed to be the person accepting the box in the footage, exited the room with his superior, who gingerly handled the item until it abruptly fractured.
The incident unfolded within the confines of her auction house, contradicting Leila’s vehement assurances.
Her eyes widened, a flush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. The assurance she had voiced so confidently had just been publicly refuted. “Why would a counterfeit appear here?” she murmured to herself, baffled.
Davis had gone pale, saying to Leila hastily, “Miss, it doesn’t add up. Even a fake wouldn’t break that easily. We’ve been framed.”
Leila’s instincts aligned with Davis’s. The delivery staff had worn masks, their identities obscured-a deliberate attempt to avoid recognition.
“Don’t worry, I’ll handle this,” Leila said to Davis.
The young man’s discontent was palpable. “Ma’am, that’s not what you were saying earlier. It doesn’t matter if he’s your employee or not. My boss has been deceived under your watch. This needs resolution.”
Leila, anxiety nipping at her, asked the seated man, “How would you like us to make this right?”
The young man bristled further. “What do you mean? Do you think my boss is after your money?”
At that, the man, who had remained mostly silent, finally spoke with an icy clarity that cut through the tension. “Lenny,” his voice dropped to a command. “Shut up and leave us.”
His stern directive silenced the room.
Leila’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice, eerily familiar, stirring memories.
Her gaze fixed on him with newfound intensity as the room cleared, leaving just her, Sophie, and the masked man.
Sophie, curious and undaunted, edged closer to the man, fascinated by his mask.
As the man took a step forward, however, Sophie retreated playfully to explore elsewhere.
Left to face the man alone, Leila offered a nervous smile. Her voice carried a mix of protective warmth and a hint of challenge. “My daughter is still so young, merely curious, and knows nothing of our affairs. She’s at that age where everything is play to her.”
There was a flicker of amusement in the man’s eyes as he posed a sharp question. “Do you think it’s appropriate to bring a child to such a setting? Or are you hoping her presence will soften me and make me less inclined to press?”
Leila remained composed, her response firm and unwavering. “You won’t hold me accountable today. Had you approached me directly seeking help, I might have declined. But now, given the circumstances, you have my attention. Yes, there was an oversight by the auction house, I acknowledge that. However, if your demands are unreasonable, I won’t hesitate to reject them.”
The man’s laughter broke the tension, a sound of genuine amusement. “You are smart,” he commented.
Leila’s mind replayed the scene from the video. The man and his younger companion had shown genuine surprise when the item broke. It wasn’t a setup. Their shock was too real.
She recalled a fragment of conversation caught on the video, the man’s words low but audible enough for her to hear. He had spoken to the young man, his tone instructive yet calm, “Given the owner’s absence, let’s show up on another day.”
Leila had pondered the man’s words in the footage for a while. After a thoughtful pause, she said, “If you’re trying to make a point with the auction house, whether or not you see me doesn’t change anything. I can tell you’re not exactly the friendly type. I suspect you came here just to see me.”
“You’re quite sharp,” the man gave a nod of approval and got straight to the point. “I need your help, but you should trust that I’m not responsible for the damaged antique. I wouldn’t jeopardize it. Your auction house is well-regarded and thriving. Perhaps you’ve inadvertently hindered others’ business.”
A shadow of suspicion flickered in Leila’s eyes. “I understand. Thanks for the heads-up.”
The man retrieved a folded piece of paper and spread it out. It revealed a partially sketched diagram.
Leila’s confusion was evident as she studied the incomplete diagram.
The man explained, “Leila, I’m being honest. I know about your training under Hayden and your skills in repairing antiques and crafting unique pieces. This shouldn’t be beyond your abilities.”
“Of course,” Leila accepted the drawing but handed it back with a straightforward response. “But, sir, perhaps you should consider someone else. Many experts could handle this better than I could. Besides, if you have faith in my abilities, you wouldn’t provide me with only this fragment of the design drawing.”
The man chuckled, his amusement evident even though the mask hid his face.
His laughter felt like a feather had grazed Leila’s heart. A wave of emotion surged through her, stirring her deeply. She felt a sudden and irresistible urge to lift the mask from his face. Why did he resemble her ex-husband so much?
But Leila dismissed the thought. There was no chance they could have crossed paths under these circumstances.
“You should decide if you still want to run this auction house.” The man’s smile vanished, replaced by a cold, serious tone.
Her eyes narrowed into a steely squint. Leila asked, “Is this a threat?”
He shrugged, his voice cool. “What do you think?”
Leila felt a throbbing headache beginning to build. She remained unshaken by his threat, her resolve firm against his intimidation. But she had no intention of stirring up trouble. Despite the support from the Nixon family, she was determined not to take advantage of it.
He continued, “Just surrender. Even if you leverage the Nixon family, you can’t intimidate me. Displaying only a portion of the drawings doesn’t mean I underestimate your skills. I’ve sought you out because I’m convinced you’re the only one capable of handling this perfectly.”
Just then, a small voice interrupted, “Si… Sir.”
Sophie had appeared without notice. She gathered her courage and clung to the man’s leg, standing on tiptoe with a determined look, as if she had something important to ask.
Leila’s nerves got the better of her as she hurried over to Sophie, attempting to pull her away.
But the man crouched down, his voice softening as he asked, “Sophie, what do you want?”
Leila wondered if it was just her imagination. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a hint of affection in his tone.