Chapter 90: The Evening Celebration

The evening party was far livelier than the formal auction.

Ashridge Hall had transformed into a grand celebration—the austere elegance of the afternoon replaced by warmth and festivity. Crystal chandeliers glowed warmly above the sprawling garden, their light mingling with the soft glow of hundreds of candles arranged on tables draped in ivory linen.

An orchestra played soft classical music beneath centuries-old oak trees wrapped in fairy lights that twinkled like captured stars.

Noble families, business magnates, politicians, and socialites moved gracefully between conversations, champagne glasses clinking every few minutes, laughter rising and falling like waves.

Tomorrow would be Theodore Ashridge and Eleanor Bose’s official engagement ceremony—a formal affair with traditions dating back generations.

Tonight was simply a celebration. Of family. Of friendship. And of the remarkable success of today’s auction.

The mysterious buyer, however, had already disappeared.

After completing payment for every item he had won—Angel Tear, The Emperor’s Watch, The Ivory Chess Set—he politely declined every conversation, ignored countless attempts to learn his identity, and quietly left Ashridge Hall, slipping away like smoke.

Nobody knew his name. Nobody knew where he came from.

The only thing everyone knew was that he had spent hundreds of millions without blinking, as though money were nothing more than paper.

Near one corner of the garden, beneath a towering oak tree strung with lights, Mindy, Wade, Ana, and Eleanor stood together.

Or rather, Ana was talking. The other three were simply listening, their expressions ranging from amused to incredulous.

"...And then Dad actually believed I had broken the antique vase!" Ana exclaimed dramatically, her hands gesturing wildly. "I didn’t! I only bumped into the table!"

Wade chuckled, his tone dry. "That’s not how you told it yesterday."

Ana immediately protested, her voice rising. "Details! They’re unimportant."

Mindy couldn’t stop herself from laughing, her hand covering her mouth. "You should become a storyteller."

"I already am." Ana proudly lifted her chin, her expression smug. "I just don’t get paid."

Eleanor laughed, her shoulders shaking.

Just then, Missy entered the garden, her presence drawing immediate attention.

She had already changed out of her auction attire—the wine-stained dress replaced by a sapphire-blue satin gown that shimmered beneath the lights, catching every flicker of candlelight.

Her makeup had been redone flawlessly, her hair perfectly arranged in an elegant updo. She walked as though she had just conquered the world, her chin lifted, her smile confident.

Drake accompanied her, his expression neutral. Layton followed a few steps behind, his hands in his pockets, his gaze distant.

Eleanor watched them approach before muttering under her breath, "Why does she look so smug?"

Mindy quietly answered, her voice barely audible—"Not for long."

Only Wade heard her. He immediately lowered his head, trying desperately not to laugh, his shoulders shaking.

Ana looked over, her brow furrowing. "Did you say something?"

Mindy blinked innocently, her expression perfectly neutral. "No."

Ana narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "...Alright."

A few moments later, Theodore walked onto the center stage—a raised platform beneath the largest oak tree, its branches forming a natural canopy.

He gently took Eleanor’s hand, his touch tender. She smiled warmly at him, her eyes bright.

The orchestra gradually quietened, the music fading to silence.

Theodore raised his glass, the crystal catching the light. "Thank you, everyone, for making today’s auction such a tremendous success."

Applause echoed throughout the garden, polite and measured.

"I know some of you couldn’t obtain the treasures you hoped for." He smiled apologetically, his expression sincere. "But Ashridge Auctions will always return. I sincerely hope next time, fortune favors you."

Several guests laughed, the sound warm and genuine.

Theodore looked toward Eleanor, his gaze softening. "Tomorrow is our engagement. We would be honored to receive everyone’s blessings. So tonight..." He lifted his champagne glass higher. "Please. Enjoy yourselves."

Cheers erupted. Crystal glasses clinked together, the sound like wind chimes. Music resumed, the orchestra launching into a lively waltz.

Sebastian Valecroft arrived shortly afterward, his entrance understated but impossible to ignore.

Immediately, business leaders surrounded him—a swarm of tailored suits and eager smiles. Everyone wanted a conversation with the heir to Valecroft Antiquities, the man whose family’s collection rivaled museums.

After exchanging greetings—polite, brief, efficient—Sebastian eventually joined Layton near the edge of the garden.

The two appeared familiar with one another, speaking comfortably despite their reserved personalities, their voices low.

Meanwhile, two elegantly dressed young women approached Ana, their heels clicking against the stone pathway.

Every inch of them screamed luxury—designer gowns, flawless makeup, jewelry that cost more than most people’s cars.

One wore an emerald couture gown, its fabric shimmering like water. The other, a diamond-studded silver dress that caught every flicker of light.

Ana sighed the moment she saw them, her shoulders sagging. "Oh no..."

Margaret Ashridge. Theodore’s younger sister. Beautiful, spoiled, sharp-tongued.

Beside her stood Sophia Collins. Second daughter of Collins Airways. Just as wealthy. Just as arrogant.

Margaret folded her arms, her smile cold. "Well, if it isn’t Ana Bose."

Sophia smirked, her eyes scanning Ana from head to toe. "You finally learned how to dress like a lady."

Ana didn’t even bother pretending. She rolled her eyes, her expression exaggerated. "Margaret. Still bullying people? Looks like your brain never graduated from kindergarten."

Margaret’s smile twitched, her jaw tightening. "I see your tongue is still as sharp as ever. But at least our lessons helped."

Sophia laughed, the sound high and grating. "They certainly did."

Margaret grinned sweetly, her voice dripping with false innocence. "True! We had so much fun, Ana, right?"

Ana scoffed, her tone shifting. "Yeah. It was fun when I put a mouse in your bag and you screeched like a little six-year-old."

Margaret snapped, her voice rising. "We were six years old!"

Mindy couldn’t hold it anymore. She burst into laughter, her hand covering her mouth, her eyes watering. "You actually did that?"

Ana looked incredibly proud, her chest puffing. "They wrote ’Rat Boy’ on my backpack. So I gave them an actual rat."

Even Wade laughed so hard champagne nearly came out of his mouth, his hand flying to cover his lips.

"It makes absolutely no sense," Mindy said between laughs, her voice breathless.

Ana shrugged, her expression unrepentant. "I’ve always been creative."

Margaret’s face darkened, her smile disappearing. "I remember your mother slapped you for that."

Silence. The laughter died instantly.

Ana’s smile disappeared, her expression going flat.

Mindy and Wade stopped laughing, their faces sobering.

Sophia smiled smugly, her eyes glinting. "Still hurts?"

Margaret continued cruelly, her voice sharp. "I also remember your birthday. When everyone found out about your mother’s affair. You cried all night."

Ana stared at her for several seconds, her expression unreadable. Then she smiled—coldly, dangerously. "You know, I think I cried about as much as you did when your boyfriend was caught kissing your best friend." She looked toward Sophia, her head tilting. "What was her name? Evelyn?"

Sophia’s smile froze, her face going rigid.

Ana tilted her head, her voice sweet. "You should keep an eye on this one."

The silence was deafening, thick and uncomfortable.

Thankfully, Theodore and Eleanor walked over, their expressions concerned.

Theodore frowned, his voice firm. "Margaret. Are you bothering people?"

Margaret instantly changed expressions, her face smoothing into innocence. "What? No, Brother. We were just catching up."

Eleanor looked toward Ana, her eyes questioning.

Ana gave her a reassuring smile, her expression softening. Everything’s fine.

Eleanor relaxed before introducing everyone. "Margaret, this is Mindy Wilson. And Wade Wilson."

Margaret immediately behaved perfectly, her smile bright. "So nice to meet you."

Sophia followed politely, her voice warm.

Both Mindy and Wade returned courteous greetings, their tones measured.

A sudden stir spread throughout the garden, conversations pausing, heads turning.

Everyone instinctively turned toward the entrance.

An elderly gentleman slowly entered, his steps measured, his posture dignified despite his age. Supported by a tall, handsome man, his hand resting on the younger man’s arm.

William Ashridge. Patriarch of the Ashridge family. Eighty-three years old, sharp as ever.

Beside him walked Lucian Ashridge. Theodore’s elder brother. Tall, broad-shouldered, his expression perpetually serious.

Guests respectfully greeted them one after another, bowing slightly, their voices warm.

William’s eyes suddenly lit up, his face brightening. "Wade? Is that really you?"

Wade smiled warmly, stepping forward. "Mr. Ashridge. It’s been too long."

William laughed heartily, the sound booming. Then his gaze landed on Mindy, and his eyes softened instantly, his expression tender. "Mindy? You’ve grown. You look exactly like Maria. So beautiful."

Mindy smiled gently, her voice soft. "My mother was far more beautiful. No one can compare."

William laughed again, his eyes crinkling. "Still modest. Exactly like Maria."

Then, without warning he whispered—"I heard from Jasper you’re separated."

Mindy nodded, her expression calm. "The divorce is still in progress."

William immediately clapped happily, his hands coming together. "Good! Then marry Lucian."

Silence. Complete, stunned silence.

Everyone nearby froze, their mouths falling open.

Even Lucian rubbed his forehead, his expression pained. "Grandfather..."

William ignored him, his tone cheerful. "I know he isn’t particularly handsome. But I’ll give a very generous dowry."

Mindy blinked, genuinely unsure how to respond. "I... I think I’d like to stay single for a while."

William waved dismissively, his hand fluttering. "That’s alright. And stop calling me Mr. Ashridge. I’m your grandfather’s oldest friend. Call me Grandpa. I was disappointed when Jasper told me you got married. When you’re ready, give my grandson a chance."

Lucian sighed, his voice flat. "Grandfather. Please."

William continued anyway, his voice rising. "What? Beautiful girls keep rejecting him. It’s because he always looks so scary."

Mindy glanced at Lucian—tall, imposing, his expression perpetually stern—then at William. She smiled, her eyes sparkling. "I think you’re much more charming than him, Grandpa."

William’s eyes sparkled, his face lighting up. "You hear that? Wilson girl has excellent taste!"

Lucian shot Mindy an expressionless glare, his jaw tight.

She ignored him completely, her smile widening.

"Let’s go," Lucian muttered, his voice resigned. "Before you insult me further."

William happily allowed himself to be led away, still talking. "I told you years ago! Wilson girl would’ve been perfect!"

Theodore laughed awkwardly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "He isn’t exaggerating. He actually tried introducing you two before you got married."

Mindy didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, her expression caught between amusement and disbelief.

Thankfully, Wade stepped in, his voice smooth. "She’s focusing on her career for now."

William finally nodded, his expression understanding. "Fine. But don’t wait too long."

Then the grandfather-grandson pair continued greeting other guests, William’s voice carrying across the garden.

Not far away, Layton had heard every single word. His face darkened, his jaw clenching, his hands tightening into fists.

Sebastian noticed, his gaze sharpening. "What happened?"

Layton quietly looked toward Mindy. She was laughing again, talking comfortably with Wade and Ana.

The heaviness from the auction had disappeared, replaced by lightness.

He sighed, his shoulders sagging. Then he changed the subject, his voice low. "Do you know who that mysterious bidder was?"

Sebastian shook his head, his expression thoughtful. "No. My people found nothing."

Layton frowned, his brow furrowing. "...Strange."

Sebastian nodded, his tone measured. "Whoever he is, he’s definitely not from Cracros. And he wasn’t buying those antiques for himself."

Layton slowly turned toward him, his eyes narrowing. "You think someone hired him?"

Sebastian’s expression remained thoughtful, his gaze distant. "I’d bet on it."

On the opposite side of the garden, Tori Cooper stood among several wealthy ladies, her posture elegant, her smile warm.

She laughed elegantly while exchanging harmless gossip—fashion, travel, charity galas.

To everyone present, she appeared to be another refined society lady, perfectly at ease in this world of wealth and privilege.

No one knew that she and Emily Hawthorne had practically grown up together—more like sisters than friends.

Publicly, they acted like strangers. Privately, they had shared secrets for decades.

Tori Cooper. Wife of Richard Cooper. Founder and Chairman of Cooper Fine Weaves.

Twenty years ago, nobody knew the Cooper name. Today, the company supplied luxury textiles to royal households, haute couture fashion houses, premium airlines, and five-star hotels across the world.

Richard spent most of his life traveling for business. Sometimes Tori accompanied him.

Which was precisely why investigating her had always been incredibly difficult—her movements unpredictable, her connections vast.

She smiled gracefully while accepting another glass of champagne, her fingers delicate around the stem.

Then the peaceful atmosphere shattered.

Police sirens echoed outside Ashridge Hall, the sound cutting through the music like a blade.

Every conversation stopped. Guests turned toward the entrance, their expressions shifting from curiosity to alarm.

Three uniformed police officers entered, their steps measured, their expressions serious.

Behind them, walking calmly with his silver-headed cane, was Jasper Wilson. Followed closely by his loyal butler, his expression unreadable.

The entire garden fell into stunned silence, the air thick with tension.