The auctioneer stepped onto the stage flanked by two model-thin women in glittering evening gowns. They stood next to him as he presented the first item—a pair of Ming vases. He droned on for several minutes about the origins of the vases before he began the bidding.

"Those are nice," Melanie said calmly, peering over the edge of the balcony.

​​

Catherine glanced at them with disinterest, for she wasn't interested in any of the items up for auction. They were just status symbols that the rich people in the room brought to impress each other. She sighed.

"What's wrong?" Sean asked. "Bored already?"

"Wouldn't these things be better off in a museum?" she asked. "That way, the people who like them could go see them for free. But most of these things will just end up in climate-controlled storage rooms. It's such a waste."

Melanie sneered, "You're so naïve, Cathy. As if ordinary people can appreciate these things."

"You know money can't buy taste, Aunt," Catherine snapped. "You'd be surprised how many wealthy people completely lack it."

She shot a glance at Madison's flashy dress and smiled. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sean, who leaned over the edge of the railing and watched the item on stage with interest. She leaned forward too, curious to see what had fascinated him.

It was an antique diadem. A pattern of sapphires and emeralds adorned a delicately shaped gold band. Catherine tried to focus on what the auctioneer was saying, but the bidding had already started. She waited to see if Sean would bid, but he didn't.

"Hmm," Madison said. "I guess it's pretty if a bit small."

"I agree, dear," Melanie said. "With such thick, beautiful hair, you need some real gems."

Catherine bit her tongue. They were so crass and rude. She wished they'd leave the box and mingle with the other auction guests. She'd invited them as revenge. She wanted them to watch as she sold all the paintings they'd spent her father's money on, but it seemed they were taking their sort of revenge.

"Why don't you buy something for your cousin, Cathy," Lawson suggested. "I'm afraid the neighbors have found out about that nasty business with the house, and everyone is talking about you. If you made a public gesture like that, it might help with the gossip."

"Why doesn't Madison go convince some hapless man down there to buy her a tiara if she wants one so bad," Catherine thought.

"What?" Melanie asked.

She blushed, realized she'd spoken out loud again. For a moment, she thought about waving a hand and letting the comment pass, but she changed her mind.

"Why doesn't Madison go find her a suitor to buy her some jewelry?" she asked louder.

"We're just looking out for your image," Melanie sniffed. "Don't you worry about your cousin? You know, there are several gentlemen interested in her at the moment."

"Oh, I'm sure there are," Catherine said. "Madison always had that sort of reputation."

Everyone fell quiet. The bidding on the floor below grew heated as several voices shouted out at once. Catherine looked over the edge, but she didn't see anything unusual. She sipped her champagne, enjoying the way the bubbles swirled in her mouth.

"Come now, Cathy," Melanie said, beckoning at a chair between her and Madison. "Why don't you come to sit with us and give your uncle and Sean a chance to talk about the business."

Catherine narrowed her eyes. Her aunt always had an agenda, but she couldn't guess what she wanted. Bored and curious, Catherine stood and sat in the empty chair between Melanie and Madison. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lawson shift his seat closer to Sean.

Catherine sat straight in her seat and stared down at the auction below. She was desperately curious to know what her aunt and cousin wanted, but she wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of asking.

"Well then," her aunt whispered. "It's clear you've got Sean wrapped around your little finger. Can you please convince him to give Lawson a better role in the business? It can't go on like this—Andy has taken over everything."

"Who's Andy?" Catherine asked.

Her cousin smiled like a cat that had eaten a bird, "She doesn't know who Andy is, Mum."

"That's a pity," Melanie said.

"Just tell me," Catherine snapped.

"Well, I suppose we can," Melanie said. "Andy Jones is Sean's man. He came to take over the company, and nothing happens without his express approval."

"Well, if Sean put him in charge, he must be capable," Catherine said with a shrug.

"Well, sure he's capable," Madison sniffed. "But he's completely changing the company. We just thought you might be concerned about that—you know since you're so obsessed with your dad's legacy and all."

"What's he doing?" she asked.

"Oh, hasn't Sean told you all about that?" Madison asked. "I thought you two were closer than ever."

Catherine bit the inside of her lip. She knew they were taunting her, but what if they were right? What if Sean was completely changing her dad's company?

"So, do we have a deal?" Melanie pressed.

"Why would I make a deal with you?" Catherine asked.

"Because, if you get my dad his old position back, we'll pass on all information to you," Madison said.

"And how do you know I want information?" Catherine asked.

"Please," Madison laughed. "You didn't even know who Andy was. You can play cool, but I've known you for a long time, Cathy. And I know you want the information."

Catherine ped bit her lip hard and shook her head. Their offer tempted her, but she wasn't going to make any deals with them. It had taken her too much effort to get Lawson out of the company—she wasn't going to let him back in. If Andy were a threat, she'd find a way to deal with him on her own.

She stood and crossed to the edge of the balcony. A new item was wheeled into the soft spotlights on the stage, and she smiled. It was one of Lawson's old paintings.

"And here we have a fine example of Picasso's work, during his blue period," the auctioneer droned.

"What the hell?" Madison hissed, looking at the painting. "This is low, even for you, Cathy."

"My Picasso," Lawson moaned. "How could you?"

"How much of my father's money did you spend on it?" Catherine asked. "How much did Maria and Samuel suffer so you could hang it on the hall for guests to see on their way to the bathroom?"

"She asked you a question," Sean said.

"I don't know," Lawson mumbled. "Ten million pounds, probably."

"Ten million?" she asked. "You better hope it sells for at least that much."

"Shh," Melanie hissed. "The bidding is already at six."

"You can't sell it," Lawson whispered. "It's not yours to sell."

"Sure it is," she whispered. "You bought it with my money, after all."

"I did not," he hissed back. "It was the first painting I bought, and I bought it before your father ever died."