Daughter-in-law Strikes Harder

The glass door that led directly to the inside of the huge building where luxurious cars stopped in front of, were a number of elites and people dressed in gorgeous outfits stepping out.

There were people of different races and nationalities making their way inside, with mostly a common goal for the art auctioning that was taking place.

There was an air of aristocracy permeating the ambience around the building, as heels and leather shoes clinked their ways into the building and towards the elevator.

The art auctioning was going to start in the next few minutes on the fifth floor, where different art from great artists were going to be displayed for sale.

Another luxurious car that exuded all forms of modesty stopped in front of the building, as the owner stepped out of it even before his assistant could run to get the door.

His appearance was charming to sight and absolutely captivating, that had some of the people who recognized him mumbling words to themselves or the partners they were with.

‘I thought he was not the type to attend stuff like this,’ they all had such thoughts in their minds, as he strutted past everyone without any form of familiarity.

Collin made his way into the elevator and pressed the button to signify the floor he was going to, together with his assistant who was sort of frustrated that his boss did everything himself. It rendered his expected work as his assistant useless.

“Make sure to forward the mails for signing immediately to me once they are sent. We don’t want the ML group acquiring this asset before us this time. Father is counting on me,” Collin instructed his assistant, Jeffery, with his eyes on his phone while trying to check the image that Aria had sent to him again.

He really wanted to make sure he remembered what he was going to purchase, while trying to still figure out what the art piece was trying to communicate.

The huge exclusive room had systematically arranged rows and columns of comfortable chairs, where one could easily reach out for a cup of coffee by the arm.

Beside each table were constructed machines for information feel in, which was going to be used for bidding instead of the regular bidding cards.

Visitors were making their way into the place in a comported manner to the location of their seat numbers, that had been given to them during the online registration for the auction.

There were still a number of clumsy elites that would find it hard to do anything right and miss up their seats, which would end up in forced chuckles from them while trying to cover up their flaws.

There was about ten minutes left till the auction would begin, and Alex just began driving the car which was miles away from the company to the auction house.

Dalton spontaneously had so many things he had to attend to within the space of a few hours, because he had ruined his schedule by staying with Aria longer than he should have that morning.Content from NôvelDr(a)ma.Org.

Counting from a minute to the time that the auction would begin, 60, 59, 58, 57, 56……. And Dalton was just alighting from his car to enter into the building, with Alex unnecessarily panicking to open every next door as fast as he could.

Daasgrh auction house was one of the biggest and prominent in the country, that was specifically meant for people with highest ranks in the social stratification system. Therefore, order to everything over to see by all was ensued.

… 5, 4, 3, 2, and as the doors were shutting close with much attention turned to the entryway, the door swung back open with immediate force to acknowledge who was making his way into the space.

The combination of his looks, wealth, appearance, poise, made him so hard to beat in every aspect. He definitely possessed all that would pass for the perfect man.

There was a collective stare and attention of the sophisticated beings in the room, with their gazes cast upon the man who wouldn’t give two fucks about who they were at the moment.

They really found it so surprising and enigmatic that since the Millers had one of the best art galleries, the king himself wouldn’t need a reason to attend an art auction. Alex quickly located their seats in the room and ushered his boss to the position.

The sudden sound of a bell signified the starting of the auction, as it diverted the attention of the people who were still staring, back to the real reason they were present at the auction.

The host for the auction who was a french man in his mid thirties and of a small stature, flashed a humble smile at everyone present in the room and welcomed them to the auction by making a short speech.

Shortly, the first painting to be auctioned was brought before the audience in veiled cloth, as the auctioneer told them whom the painting belonged to and did a preview, about the message that the artist used the piece to communicate.

He then went ahead to unveil it before their curious eyes, as a few mumblings were heard amongst the bidders before they announced the price.

The piece seemed so competitive because of the artist as the bidders continued to input their bids into the machines, as the duel continued for five minutes before someone finally took it for two times the initial announced prize. It was a wow for them that they were present.

The second piece was unleashed the same way and after a duel amongst the bidders, a young lady finally took it for Ninety percent higher than the price they had announced for it.

However, many of them were cautious in their pickings and interest, as it seemed like Dalton remained so calm to everything that was going on in the room.

He could remember the vivid pictures of the image he had watched her paint, and knew exactly what he wanted to buy. Some who knew Collin had also watched him too, as he also seemed calm and disinterested in everything he had seen so far.

There were twenty pieces of paintings to be auctioned, and Aria’s own was put as the fifteenth one because of uncertainty and her experience as an artist.

Though she had offered to them a nice deal and even received the highest price for her art amongst others, they were still skeptical if people would buy the painting at an outrageous price.

The craziest part was the one she included in the last paper in a clause, which made them think that she might have finally gone mad from overly self esteem as a debuting artist.

‘If the art sold in question exceeds twenty times its original price, the artist gets another 40% from the net and gross. If not, the artist pays 40% of twenty times the amount, together with returning the initial fee and letting go of the painting.’

They knew it was another crazy request and totally absurd, but it was accepted anyway because money was the deal. She losing, meant she would lose her money, the worth and the painting.

“And here is a piece, from an unknown artist with the name “Greatest,” the host paused, “Greatest nightmare,” he continued, to the loud murmuring of people in the hall. They would have expected to see a bizarre and grotesque painting of an artist with such a name. There was total displease in their murmuring.

“This artist painting here, shows the painting of this severed imaginative person using the patches, to represent life as a mirage and irremediable damage, misery to rise, and many other deep communications you might like to decipher yourselves,” the host rounded off his preview totally knocked, as he seemed to have forgotten the rest of it.

The artist had written out what the piece was about on a paper in jumbled big words, but it was really hard to say to everyone present. They were brutal words that outrightly attacked the powerful and rich.

“Two million,” the host announced the price, and even cleared his throat in doubt to what he said.

There seemed to be no immediate interest in the painting as everyone kept their hands crossed, waiting for it to pass and for the next one to come when they heard the price it was auctioned at. It was so much higher than they imagined.

“Three million,” someone inputted into the machine and the host gasped, as everyone turned their heads to see who it was. They were beginning to change their minds.

“Ten million,” Dalton inputted, and there was a great gasp.

There were exclamations in the hall, as people were struggling to understand what was going on. They couldn’t fathom what was happening, as they were getting convinced that there was a need to also put their own bids into the painting, while wondering what would have made the great Dalton himself choose such painting.

“Eleven million,” a young guy inputted, and joined the fiery competition too. His father owned the largest men’s underpants company in the country.

“Twelve million,” A beautiful young lady whose father was a wealthy politician said, as she had always had her eyes on Dalton for a very long time. Liking things of the same taste wouldn’t be that bad.

“Seventeen million,” Collin inputted, trying to reason hard in his head why that person was trying to buy the painting too.

He had bid more than he had ever planned on the painting, even if his personal funds from London had still not been transferred into his dollar account. He had limited personal funds to himself, and he would soon exhaust them on a painting.

“Thirty million,” Dalton inputted again, as the room became very hot and suffocating. Alex was shivering in shock, and there was hubbub everywhere. It wasn’t even the painting of a popular artist.

“Thirty million for the painting,” the host said in a different tone of voice that was laced with surprise and blankness, “Anyone, do we have thirty one million? Thirty one million for the painting, anyone?”

The elites in the room were all tense. It was evident that Dalton wanted it. They could never even dare. Their hearts were filled with pondering and thoughts, if the painting was going to be left in the ML gallery for an exhibition, or was to be hung somewhere in his abode.

“Do not, boss. You would be left penniless before your money finally gets processed,” Collin’s assistant advised, when he was about to input an increase in the bidding.

“Final call here…. Thirty million for our lovely painting,” the host said again after he had regained himself, “No? Final bid going at thirty million dollars. And one…. two… Three…. Sold to 0034 Mr Miller.”

There was no way Dalton Miller wasn’t going to find out who the man who had challenged him was, and why exactly he wanted that painting for himself too at all cost.

It wasn’t like he had not seen other paintings at the auction, before he suddenly was fixated on paying for that exact one he wanted. The artist of the painting was not even known.

‘Wait, what if he knew the artist?’