Chapter 55

Chapter 55:

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When, at last, the auctioneer called for Midnight Lilies, she drew a deeper breath and leaned forward, paddle poised.

The bids climbed fast—sharp, staccato numbers volleying across the room. When it hit five million, Cathryn raised her paddle with measured calm and entered the fight.

Upstairs, Andrew leaned forward, the faintest crease forming between his brows. So this was why she had come. He flicked a glance at Karl. “Find out who owned that painting before,” he said quietly.

Karl slipped out and returned within minutes, voice lowered. “The traceable record shows it was in the collection of Raymond Fuller. He later gifted it to Bettina Moore—your wife’s mother. It’s now in Douglas Grant’s hands.”

Andrew’s expression sharpened, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.