Chapter 241: Standing Up For Her

"Because I wanted to thank her for saving my life."

The room fell completely silent.

Kristoff glanced at the painting that had started the entire conversation.

"But since this painting has become the subject of so much discussion..."

He looked toward the auction representative.

"I’ll pay for it."

A collective gasp swept through the room.

Several guests stared at him in disbelief.

Fifteen million was an enormous sum, even for the people gathered at the party. Yet Kristoff had offered to pay for the painting as casually as if he were settling the bill for dinner.

His gaze returned to Isobel.

"Consider it my thank-you gift."

Isobel’s eyes widened.

"Kristoff—"

"You saved my life," he said quietly, his eyes never leaving hers. "Fifteen million is a small price to pay for that."

The words sent another ripple through the crowd.

Mary’s face stiffened.

This was no longer about the painting.

Kristoff had just made it unmistakably clear that Isobel was not some opportunistic woman who needed to explain where her money came from.

She was the woman who saved his life.

And in front of everyone, he had chosen to stand beside her.

Kristoff’s expression remained impassive as he looked back at his mother.

"Mom, since tonight is partly to thank Isobel, then let’s not turn gratitude into an interrogation."

His tone remained respectful.

But the warning was unmistakable.

"She’s our guest."

He paused.

"She should be treated like one."

He lowered his voice so only Mary, Selene, Dawn, and Isobel could hear.

Then, he extended his hand toward Isobel.

"Come with me."

Isobel looked at him for a moment before placing her hand in his.

His fingers closed around hers, firm and reassuring.

Then, he led Isobel to the stage to claim the painting.

Behind them, the room erupted into a low murmur.

Mary stood frozen in place, her smile completely gone.

She had intended to make Isobel uncomfortable.

Instead, her own son had just made it clear to everyone in the room whose side he had chosen.

...

The atmosphere inside the ballroom changed as the charity gala moved into its second half.

The formal speeches and the charity auction had ended.

Now, the musicians took their places at the side of the grand ballroom, and the soft murmur of conversation was replaced by the elegant sound of a waltz.

A moment later, the host stepped onto the stage with a mischievous smile.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I believe we’ve been far too serious tonight."

Laughter rippled through the ballroom.

"So, shall we have some fun?"

The lights dimmed slightly, leaving the stage bathed in a warm golden glow.

"It’s time for our charity dance!"

The announcement immediately stirred excitement among the guests.

The rules were simple.

The female guests who are willing to participate would take turns walking onto the stage. The men in attendance could then bid for the privilege of sharing a dance with them later.

Every bid would be added to the evening’s charitable donation.

The first few women received modest bids.

Then the numbers began climbing.

Some men bid simply to impress the women they were interested in. Others treated it as a game, deliberately competing with their friends and driving up the price.

The ballroom filled with laughter and teasing.

Isobel watched from her seat, amused by the spectacle.

She had no intention of participating.

Unfortunately, someone else had already made that decision for her.

"Next...Miss Isobel Lancey."

A murmur swept through the ballroom.

Isobel froze.

"What?"

She looked toward the stage, certain she had heard wrong.

The host repeated her name.

"Miss Isobel Lancey, please come up. Someone requested for you and had placed an initial bid of a hundred thousand."

Dozens of eyes immediately turned toward her.

Isobel’s first instinct was to refuse.

But before she could say anything, Mary leaned toward her.

"Go on, dear."

There was a strange glimmer in Mary’s eyes.

"This is for charity."

Isobel narrowed her eyes.

She had a feeling there was more to this than Mary was letting on.

Still, with the entire room watching, refusing would only draw more attention.

Besides, it was for the benefit of the orphanage.

Reluctantly, she stood.

The moment Isobel stepped onto the stage, the ballroom seemed to become noticeably quieter.

She looked stunning beneath the golden lights.

Her elegant blue gown fell gracefully around her figure, and the soft glow illuminated her features, making her appear almost ethereal.

For a few seconds, no one bid.

Then—

"Two hundred thousand."

A man near the front raised his paddle.

"Three hundred thousand."

Another bid came from across the room.

"Five hundred thousand."

Isobel’s eyes widened.

The amount was already far beyond what most of the previous women received.

Then someone raised a paddle from the back of the ballroom.

"One million."

The room erupted.

Isobel turned toward the bidder.

The man sat alone at one of the tables.

He was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, but unlike everyone else, his face was concealed behind a dark, expressionless silver mask.

No one seemed to know who he was.

The host looked momentarily stunned before recovering.

"One million! We have one million!"

Whispers immediately spread through the ballroom.

"Who is that?"

"Do you know him?"

"I’ve never seen him before."

The masked man remained completely still.

His eyes, however, were fixed on Isobel.

She felt an inexplicable chill run down her spine.

There was something unsettling about the way he looked at her.

As if he hadn’t merely decided to bid for a dance.

As if he had come here specifically for her.

The host raised his voice.

"One million! Do I hear one point one million?"

A paddle rose.

"One point one million."

Every head turned.

Kristoff sat calmly at his table, his expression unreadable.

Isobel’s heart skipped.

"Kristoff..."

He didn’t look at her. His eyes remained fixed on the masked man.

"One point two million," the masked man said.

A murmur swept through the ballroom again.

Kristoff’s jaw tightened.

"One point three."

The bidding continued.

"One point four."

"One point five."

The masked man’s voice remained eerily calm.

Kristoff’s fingers tapped once against the table.

"One point six."

The host could barely contain his excitement.

"Ladies and gentlemen! We have one point six million!"

The ballroom had long since forgotten about the other dancers.

Everyone was watching the two men battle over one woman.

Isobel stood frozen on the stage.

She didn’t understand what was happening.

The masked man raised his paddle again.

"One point seven."

Kristoff’s eyes narrowed.

"Two million."

A few guests gasped.

The masked man paused. For the first time, there was hesitation.

He looked directly at Kristoff. Their eyes met across the ballroom. Neither man looked away. The tension between them became almost palpable.

Then the masked man slowly raised his paddle.

"Two point one."

A wave of excitement swept through the crowd.

The host turned toward Kristoff.

"Mr. Dalton?"

Kristoff leaned back in his chair. For a moment, he said nothing.

Then he reached for his paddle.

"Two point five."

The host blinked.

The ballroom went silent.