Tempting Him to Lose Control

Chapter 82: Chapter 82: I’ve Learned It, So It’ll Be Convenient to Take Off Later

Claire Kendall turned her head to see Ian Rhodes rubbing his unnaturally red eyes.

"Claire, it hurts so much," he whined. "I can’t see."

Hearing this, Claire Kendall frowned. "Don’t rub them. The more you do, the worse it’ll get. Let me see."

Ian Rhodes lowered his hand and obediently leaned in, tilting his head up slightly.

Claire Kendall leaned over, steadying his face with one hand as she cautiously lifted his swollen eyelid with the other.

"It looks like there’s something in there. I’ll try to blow it out for you."

She leaned in close and blew gently.

「In the private room on the second floor.」

Leon Wright sat across from Miles Warren, a sheen of sweat already forming on his forehead.

From their position, at their angle, the two people downstairs looked like they were practically glued together, poised as if they were about to kiss.

Miles Warren’s fingers, which had been casually tapping the table, suddenly clenched.

He looked over, and his gaze locked with Ian Rhodes’s.

Ian Rhodes stared back unabashedly, his good eye glinting with defiance and triumph.

Miles Warren broke eye contact and said nothing.

He leaned back in his chair, his figure sinking back into the shadows. He slowly rolled the blessed prayer beads between his fingers, one by one. His face was devoid of expression, yet he radiated a grim aura that promised a coming storm.

Leon Wright’s heart hammered like a drum.

’How can Ms. Kendall be so dense today? Why is she insisting on dancing in Mr. Warren’s minefield! I just hope she doesn’t ruin my West Side auction.’

He wiped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief and said tentatively, "Ah, young people these days. Especially the boys. They just have no sense of boundaries."

He called a waiter over. "Go give the gentleman at the center table downstairs a bottle of eye drops."

Downstairs, Ian Rhodes murmured, "It’s still a little itchy."

"Let me try blowing again." Not thinking much of it, Claire Kendall adjusted her position.

"Sir, are your eyes bothering you? These eye drops should help. This should provide some immediate relief."

Following Mr. Wright’s orders, the waiter stood right between Ian Rhodes and Claire Kendall, physically separating them.

Ian Rhodes froze for a second before taking the eye drops. His tone was flat as he said, "Alright. Thank Mr. Wright for me."

The waiter nodded and left.

Claire Kendall muttered under her breath, "Mr. Wright really lives up to his reputation as a big shot. He’s so attentive to detail."

Ian Rhodes clutched the bottle of eye drops, the smile on his face fading a little.

Onstage, the auctioneer’s voice suddenly rose.

"Ladies and gentlemen, our next item is an original embroidered silk dress from the Republican era. It is in pristine condition, and the starting bid is three hundred thousand."

The lights on the display stand brightened, illuminating a dark green dress that shimmered with a fluid luster. The petals on its satin surface, created with a long-lost gold-thread embroidery technique, were so vivid they looked real.

Claire Kendall’s eyes lit up.

’If I could replicate this vibrant embroidery technique and pair it with the elegance of Flowing Light Brocade, it would be a true masterpiece!’

Claire Kendall sat up straight, her eyes fixed on the dress.

’Vintage clothing doesn’t usually attract many bidders. It’s been worn, so the buyer won’t be wearing it, and as a collectible, it’s not as valuable as something like porcelain or a painting.’

Confident, Claire Kendall raised her paddle without hesitation. "Three hundred thousand."

A familiar, challenging voice came from behind her. "Four hundred thousand."

It was Yvonne Warren.

’Sinclair Design is all about mechanized, modern techniques. They have absolutely no use for this dress. Yvonne Warren is doing this just to spite me.’

Claire Kendall raised her paddle again. "Five hundred thousand."

Yvonne Warren immediately followed. "Seven hundred thousand."

A low murmur rippled through the hall. A single bid increase of two hundred thousand—it was the first of its kind for the evening’s auction.

Claire bid again, and Yvonne followed suit. To Yvonne, hundreds of thousands were pocket change. She had no interest in the dress, but if Claire Kendall liked it, she had to have it.

「On the second floor.」

Leon Wright watched the two of them bid against each other, his heart filled with dread.

’One is the apple of Mr. Warren’s eye, and the other is the precious young miss of the Warren family. What am I supposed to do?’

Yvonne Warren remained perfectly calm. "Two million."

The entire hall erupted in an uproar, and chatter broke out everywhere. Everyone could sense the palpable animosity between Claire Kendall and Yvonne Warren.

A dress from the Republican era, not a particularly distant period, had somehow reached the astronomical price of two million.

Clearly, Yvonne Warren was just trying to crush her with money. She looked at Claire Kendall, a triumphant smile on her face.

’Whether it’s a man or an auction item, if I want it, you, Claire Kendall, will never get it.’

Onstage, the auctioneer looked like his face was about to split from grinning so wide.

That last round of bidding had been so exhilarating he hadn’t even needed to guide the process.

Two million.

Claire Kendall hesitated. She could afford it, but the price had far exceeded the item’s actual value. For two million, she could acquire a dress with even more superior stitching.

She slowly lowered her paddle.

The auctioneer looked at Claire Kendall, adding fuel to the fire. "Miss, are you sure you won’t continue? A dress this beautiful, with such unique needlework... are you really going to let it go?"

Claire Kendall pressed her lips together and shook her head.

"Alright. Well, that’s a real shame."

The auctioneer boomed, "Two million going once! Two million going twice!..."

「In the private room on the second floor.」

Miles Warren looked at Leon Wright. His voice was perfectly level as he uttered three words.

Leon Wright froze when he heard it, then immediately leaned out the window.

He raised his voice. "The honored guest in the private room upstairs will Raise the Lantern!"

The entire hall fell silent. Everyone was stunned.

To "Raise the Lantern" was auction jargon. Whoever invoked it would automatically top any and all bids, no matter the price.

It was a move only a true powerhouse would dare to make.

In an instant, every gaze in the room converged on the bamboo screen of the second-floor window, but all anyone could make out was a faint, blurry silhouette.

No one dared to raise their paddle. To make a malicious counter-bid would be to openly oppose this powerhouse, and not even Yvonne Warren dared to do that.

Yvonne Warren’s smile froze on her face. She had a sinking feeling.

Sure enough, a moment later, Leon Wright spoke again.

"The Lantern is raised... as a gift for a fair lady."

"Our honored guest is gifting this dress to Ms. Claire Kendall!"

The gavel fell, settling the matter.

The hall exploded with thunderous applause as envious gazes fell upon Claire Kendall.

"Who in the world is that on the second floor?"

"Raising the Lantern! That’s the first time I’ve ever seen someone raise the lantern at an auction!"

"And he just gave it to that designer?"

Claire Kendall looked up, the corners of her lips curling into a slight smile as she sent him a text.

[Weren’t you ignoring me? Why send me the dress?]

He replied almost instantly.

[It’s beautiful. Learn the stitch, make one, and wear it. Then I’ll come take it off.]

Claire Kendall’s cheeks flushed as she read the message.

He sent another, this one a command: [Come up.]

Nearby, Yvonne Warren’s face was contorted. She had become the laughingstock of the auction.

She looked up toward the second floor. She couldn’t see the person clearly, but that hand resting on the table...

’How could that hand look so much like her uncle, Miles Warren’s?!’

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