Chapter 88: King’s Meadow

The auctioneer smiled, his expression shifting to something more reverent, more serious.

"Ladies and gentlemen, our third item."

A giant digital rendering appeared on the screen behind him—an aerial photograph so detailed you could see individual trees, the curve of a natural lake, the gentle roll of untouched hills.

King’s Meadow.

The entire hall became noticeably quieter, the ambient chatter dying instantly. Every major businessman straightened in their seats, their expressions sharpening.

Even those who had remained silent throughout the previous auction—content to watch, to observe—now leaned forward, their attention laser-focused.

The auctioneer continued, his voice carrying weight. "King’s Meadow. One thousand eight hundred and fifty acres.

Located on the outskirts of Greendale, directly adjacent to the Diplomatic Quarter and the Luxury Residential Zone." He paused for effect.

"The last untouched royal estate. For over two centuries, no construction has ever been permitted. The Ashridge family rejected every offer—from governments, from developers, from royalty itself."

He let the silence stretch, building anticipation.

"Current estimated market value: eighteen to twenty-five billion dollars." Another pause. "The opening bid: twenty-five billion."

The first paddle rose immediately—a man in the third row, his expression hungry.

"Thirty billion."

Another paddle, from the left side. "Thirty-five."

"Forty."

"Forty-five."

Within seconds, the bidding had already crossed fifty billion, the numbers climbing with dizzying speed.

Mindy simply watched, her expression unreadable, her hands folded in her lap.

Exactly as she remembered.

Sebastian Valecroft—his paddle rising with calm precision.

Drake Hawthorne—his movements aggressive, competitive.

Layton Knight—his expression calculating, measured.

Andrew Bose—his assistant Yeager whispering urgently in his ear.

Nearly every real estate giant was participating, their combined wealth staggering.

This land had ruined countless companies in her previous life.

She slowly leaned toward Ana, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Ana."

Ana turned, her expression curious. "Hmm?"

"Stop your father."

Ana blinked, confused. "What?"

"Stop him from bidding."

Ana’s brow furrowed. "Dad came here only for this land. He’s been planning this for months."

Mindy nodded, her expression serious. "I know. But trust me. If he buys King’s Meadow, he’ll lose a fortune."

Ana stared at her, her mouth opening slightly. Mindy’s tone was urgent, almost desperate.

She slowly nodded, then immediately grabbed Andrew’s sleeve, tugging. "Dad."

Andrew continued watching the bidding, his eyes tracking the numbers. "What is it?"

"Don’t buy it."

Andrew looked confused, glancing down at her. "What?"

"Don’t buy King’s Meadow."

Andrew frowned, his expression shifting to concern. He looked toward Mindy, his gaze questioning.

She simply met his gaze and nodded once, her expression grave. "I won’t lie to you, Mr. Bose. Please. Trust me."

Andrew frowned deeper, his mind racing. "Why? What do you know?"

Mindy didn’t answer immediately. Her eyes remained fixed on King’s Meadow displayed on the screen—the rolling hills, the ancient trees, the deceptive beauty.

In her previous life, Sebastian Valecroft had won this exact piece of land. The entire business world had praised him, calling it a masterstroke.

Newspapers had declared it the greatest real-estate acquisition of the decade. Located on the outskirts of Greendale, King’s Meadow connected directly to the new financial district, the diplomatic quarter, the luxury residential zone.

Every developer believed it would become the most expensive address in the country.

Sebastian had immediately invested billions into architectural planning—hiring the world’s top firms. Road construction—widening access, building infrastructure. Luxury villas and commercial towers—designs that would redefine modern living.

Then, fifteen days later, the government issued an emergency preservation order.

Archaeologists had discovered ancient royal remains beneath King’s Meadow—burial sites, ceremonial grounds, artifacts dating back centuries.

The land also housed one of the country’s oldest ecosystems—rare medicinal herbs used by indigenous healers, centuries-old oak trees protected by environmental law, flowering plants found nowhere else, and a natural spring-fed lake that supplied water to surrounding villages.

Every construction permit was revoked overnight. Every project stopped. Every investment disappeared—billions evaporating like morning mist.

Sebastian lost tens of billions. His company’s stock plummeted. Investors fled. The land remained untouched, exactly as it had for centuries.

Mindy slowly lowered her eyes, her jaw tightening.

Around them, several businessmen overheard the exchange. Someone chuckled, the sound dismissive. "A fashion designer giving investment advice?"

Another laughed, louder. "What would she know about commercial land?"

Missy smiled faintly, her voice carrying just enough to be heard. "There she goes again. Maybe she’s trying the same trick she used on the necklace."

Drake immediately frowned, his expression darkening. "Exactly. She’s trying to scare everyone away so she can buy it herself."

Layton quietly looked toward Mindy, his gaze steady. Unlike Drake, he didn’t dismiss her.

Ever since he learned the truth—about LUXT, about the hospital, about everything—he realized something. Mindy’s instincts were frighteningly accurate.

Without saying a word, he lowered his bidding paddle, placing it flat on his lap.

Missy immediately noticed, her eyes widening. "Layton? You believe her?"

Layton didn’t answer, his expression unreadable.

Drake scoffed, his voice loud. "I don’t."

He raised his paddle again, his movement defiant. "Fifty-five billion."

The bidding continued climbing, the numbers escalating relentlessly.

Sixty. Sixty-five. Seventy.

Beside Andrew, Yeager leaned closer, his voice low and urgent. "Mr. Bose, I think Miss Wilson misunderstood something. Our research team has spent months evaluating King’s Meadow. Everything indicates enormous potential. It would transform Bose Media’s real estate division."

Andrew remained silent, his eyes staying on Mindy. She wasn’t nervous.

She wasn’t bluffing. She looked certain—the kind of certainty that came from knowledge, not speculation.

After several seconds, he slowly lowered his paddle, his decision made. "We’re out."

Yeager looked shocked, his mouth falling open. "Mr. Bose—"

"I said we’re out." Andrew’s tone was firm, final. "I trust Miss Wilson."

Yeager clenched his jaw, his fingers tightening around his tablet. "...Yes, sir."

Across the hall, Sebastian quietly observed the exchange, his expression thoughtful. He had noticed something earlier—when everyone else looked excited, hungry, greedy, Mindy looked calm. Not hesitant. Not calculating.

He slowly turned toward his assistant, his voice low. "We’re withdrawing."

His assistant blinked, startled. "Sir?"

Sebastian never took his eyes off Mindy, his gaze lingering on her profile. "Trust my instincts."

The assistant nodded immediately, accustomed to his employer’s unconventional decisions. "Understood."

They also lowered their paddle, withdrawing from the bidding.

Mindy noticed, her eyes flicking toward Sebastian. Good. At least someone wouldn’t suffer the loss this time.

The bidding continued, the pace slowing as fewer paddles rose.

Seventy-five. Eighty.

Then—"Eighty-five billion."

Drake’s voice, loud and triumphant.

Silence filled the hall, thick and heavy. Nobody challenged him. Nobody dared.

The auctioneer smiled, his gavel raised. "Going once." Pause. "Going twice." Longer pause. "Sold."

Applause echoed through the hall, polite and measured.

Drake smiled proudly, his chest puffing. He had expected the land to cross one hundred billion. Instead, he had secured it for eighty-five—a bargain, or so he thought.

He turned slightly toward Mindy, smirking, his expression smug.

Mindy merely rolled her eyes, her voice a quiet murmur. "...Serves him right."

Wade almost laughed, his shoulders shaking slightly.

The auctioneer allowed everyone a short break—waiters circulating with champagne, guests stretching, conversations resuming—before smiling once again, his expression shifting.

"Our fourth item."

The lights dimmed, the hall falling into shadow. A spotlight illuminated a velvet pedestal at center stage, the cloth covering it shimmering under the light.

The moment the cloth was lifted, revealing what lay beneath, Mindy froze.

Her breathing stopped. Her hands clenched in her lap, her nails digging into her palms.

Angel Tear.

The hall collectively gasped, the sound rippling through the space.

Fashioned from platinum and white gold, the tiara seemed to glow from within. Set with four hundred twenty-seven Old European-cut diamonds, each stone hand-selected for clarity and fire.

Eighty-six natural seed pearls, their luster soft and ethereal. Eleven rare Kashmir sapphires, their blue so deep it seemed endless.

And at its center—a flawless thirty-two-carat pear-shaped diamond. The Angel’s Tear.

The tiara Maria Hawthorne had personally designed. For her daughter.

Wade quietly reached over, his hand covering Mindy’s trembling fingers. "We’ll bring it home."

She nodded silently, her throat tight, her vision blurring.

The opening bid began, the auctioneer’s voice cutting through the silence. "Twenty million."

Mindy immediately raised her paddle, her movement sharp. "Thirty."

Missy smiled, her expression cold. "Forty."

Drake looked toward her, frowning. "Enough."

Missy leaned closer, her voice a whisper. "I’m only doing what she did to you. She humiliated you."

Drake didn’t stop her, his jaw clenching.

But then something stirred—a memory, buried deep, surfacing against his will.

Flashback: Hawthorne Mansion, Fifteen Years Ago

A bright afternoon, sunlight streaming through tall windows. Maria Hawthorne sat beside a little girl with messy hair and paint all over her cheeks—six-year-old Mindy, her hands covered in watercolor.

Mindy looked curiously at the unfinished tiara lying on Maria’s worktable, its diamonds catching the light. "Mommy, is this for a queen?"

Maria laughed, the sound warm and full of love. She lifted Mindy into her lap, holding her close. "No. It’s for my princess."

Little Mindy’s eyes sparkled, wide and bright. "Mine?"

Maria kissed her forehead, her lips lingering. "Yes. When you turn sixteen, I’ll personally place Angel Tear on your head. It belongs only to you."

Little Mindy hugged Maria tightly, her small arms wrapping around her mother’s neck. "Promise?"

Maria smiled, her eyes glistening. "Promise."

Flashback Ends

Drake slowly frowned, his chest tightening. Why? Why wasn’t Angel Tear ever given to Mindy?

He remembered the promise. He had been there, watching from the doorway.

But then he remembered Raymond punishing Mindy—something about disobedience, about disrespect—by giving it to Emily instead. And then it was auctioned. He didn’t remember the reason why. Or perhaps he had never cared enough to ask.

The bidding continued, the numbers climbing.

"Forty-five."

Mindy—"Fifty."

Missy—"Sixty."

Mindy’s fingers tightened around the paddle, her knuckles white.

Someone else joined, a voice from the back. "Sixty-five."

"Seventy-five."

"Eighty."

The audience gasped. That was already beyond its estimated value.

Missy looked directly at Mindy, smiling, her expression triumphant.

Mindy raised hers again, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "Eighty-five."

The hall erupted into whispers, heads turning.

Drake suddenly placed his hand over Missy’s paddle, stopping her. "Enough."

Missy looked at him in disbelief. "What—"

"Mom made this for Mindy." His voice was quiet, almost regretful.

Missy stared at him, her mouth opening.

Before anyone could speak, another voice echoed through the hall, calm and measured.

"Ninety-five million."

Mindy looked toward Wade, her expression desperate.

Wade smiled reassuringly, his voice firm. He raised their paddle. "One hundred million."

Complete silence. Even the auctioneer paused, his gavel suspended.

Then—a calm voice came from the first row, unfamiliar and cold.

"One hundred ten."

Everyone turned. Not Sebastian. Not Drake. An unknown bidder—a man in a dark suit, his face obscured by shadow.

Mindy slowly lowered her paddle, her hand trembling. For the first time, she hesitated.

Layton looked at her, his gaze lingering on her face. He saw the disappointment she was trying so hard to hide, the way her shoulders curled inward, the way her breathing quickened.

Without thinking, he raised his paddle, his voice cutting through the silence. "One hundred twenty million."

Gasps filled the room, the sound collective and sharp. Even Missy looked shocked, her eyes widening.

"Layton, you don’t have to—"

"It was made for Mindy." His voice was firm, final.

Layton ignored her, his eyes never leaving Mindy.

Mindy looked away, her expression cold, her jaw tight.

Another paddle rose, the unknown bidder’s voice echoing. "One hundred fifty million."

Even Layton’s expression changed, his eyes widening slightly. The price had become irrational, absurd.

He instinctively reached for his paddle again, his hand moving—

Missy quietly whispered, her voice soft but cutting. "Even if you buy it, she’ll never accept it."

His hand stopped, frozen mid-air. He knew she was right.

The auctioneer smiled, his gavel raised. "One hundred fifty million. Going once." Pause. "Going twice." Longer pause. "Sold."

The gavel struck, the sound echoing through the silent hall like a gunshot.

Mindy stood, her movements slow and deliberate. Without saying a single word, she walked out, her heels clicking against the marble floor.

Wade quietly followed behind her, his expression grim.

No one noticed Sebastian’s gaze lingering on her retreating figure, his expression thoughtful.

Layton sitting motionless, his hands clenched in his lap, watching her leave.