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He didn’t stop until he was standing directly in front of her. His towering figure cast a long shadow.
He reached out, picked up the diamond from the platter, and held it out to her—his palm open, his eyes locked on hers.
Holding it out, he said softly, “Since you like it this much, then accept it.”
The stone sparkled under the lights, cold and brilliant.
Anya finally lifted her eyes to him, but there was no warmth in them—just coldness, unlike the soft gaze he used to know.
“I only accept gifts from people I’m close to, Mr. Kingsley,” she said calmly, her voice smooth and poised. “You and I arestrangers now. So please keep your distance, and don’t do things that could cause misunderstandings for me.”
Dante’s face froze, as if slapped. Then he scoffed, the sound bitter and disbelieving. “Strangers?”
Anya simply gave a faint shrug, tilting her head ever so slightly. “Yes. Just strangers.”
The very next moment, Dante tossed the diamond back onto the plate. The sharp clink echoed like a gunshot. His jaw clenched, his nostrils flared, and then he turned abruptly and stormed off.
The auctioneer flinched and bowed his head slightly, then quickly turned away, carrying the diamond toward Jennifer, who stood up silently to receive it.
The silence didn’t last long.
Gasps.
Then a rising storm of gossip:
“Oh my god… did she just talk to Dante Kingsley like that?”
“That was so damn bold of her. She rejected his gift?”
“Isn’t he, like, one of the richest men in the country? I’mdyingjust to get a glance from him!”
“My sister tried to speak to him last week, but he didn’t even blink her way. And now he’s offering a two hundred million dollar diamond to this girl?”
“Who is she? I’ve never seen her before. Is she from overseas?”
Within minutes, the entire hall was buzzing. People leaned in, whispered behind hands, typed hurried messages under the table.
The gossip swirled like wildfire. Within minutes, the news of Dante Kingsley offering a diamond to a mysterious girl—and being coldly rejected—became the hottest, most scandalous topic in the social circle.
Dante stormed out of the auction hall, but didn’t leave the premises. Instead, he stood in the dimly lit corridor just outside, half-shielded by one of the marble pillars. The noise of the auction continued behind him, muffled now, distant, like a world he no longer wanted to be part of.
It had been over a week since he last saw Anya.
And today, the way his heart reacted just from seeing her eyes again—it made him feel like a damn fool. A starving man, desperate for a taste, only to find her gaze colder than ice. She looked at him like he was nothing more than a stranger in a crowded room.
As if he had never mattered at all.
Dante’s fingers clenched around the cigarette between them, his knuckles whitening. He brought it to his lips and took a long drag, exhaling slowly as the smoke curled in the cool evening air.
But the burn in his chest wasn’t from nicotine.
His jaw tightened.
A moment later, a familiar voice broke the silence.
“Mister Kingsley,” came a teasing drawl. “I heard you got publicly rejected by a young girl today. That’s new.”
Dante’s brows twitched, irritation flickering through his expression as he turned his head.