<h4>Chapter 91: The Missing Bid</h4>


    Catherine’s POV


    The elegant foyer of the auction house buzzed with Skyview City’s elite as I checked my phone for the tenth time in five minutes. No messages from Anna. My stomach twisted into a tight knot as I watched Samuel guide Nora away from that asshole Sawyer Walker.


    Joseph hurried to his brother’s side with that cating expression he always wore when damage control was needed. "Samuel’s just a hothead with a poisonous mouth. He tries to verbally destroy anyone he doesn’t like."


    Sawyer’s face remained locked in that stony mask of humiliation. Joseph nced at his watch, clearly trying to change the subject. "What time is it?


    Why hasn’t Anna shown up yet?"


    The question sent a fresh wave of anxiety through me. Anna was neverte especially not for something this important. The Skke District auction was everything she’d been working toward for months.


    "I don’t know," I admitted, my voice tighter than l’d intended. "She texted earlier saying she was on her way."


    The auction coordinator appeared at the main doors, signaling for everyone to take their seats. My pulse quickened as I scanned the entrance onest time.


    Joseph’s brow furrowed. "You don’t think something happened to her, do you?"


    His words sliced through me like a de of ice. After everything that had happened-Logan’s betrayal, the "ident" at the Porter estatewas it naive to think Anna was simply runningte?


    Samuel approached, his usually confident expression now clouded with concern. We exchanged nces, a silent acknowledgment passing between us. Without a word, we both pulled out our phones, calling Anna and Rachel repeatedly.


    Voicemail. Every. Single. Time.


    "Something must have happened to Anna, I said, unable to keep the tremor from my voice. "Just days ago we were talking about how surprisingly calm things had been. I can’t believe this is happening today of all days."


    Samuel’s jaw tightened. "Let’s not panic yet. Anna isn’t one to give up easily. Let’s take our seats."


    His words were measured, but the tightness around his eyes betrayed his real feelings. I took a deep breath, trying to slow my racing heart. That’s when I spotted Jack Simpson weaving through the crowd toward us, his usuallyposed face marked with uncharacteristic tension.


    "Samuel, keep an eye on things here.


    I’m going to talk to him," I murmured, already moving toward Jack.


    I’d intended to interrogate him, but he spoke first: "Where’s Anna? Why isn’t she here yet?"


    I studied his face carefully, searching for any hint of deception. Finding none, my anxiety only deepened. "I was about to ask you the same question."


    Jack’s genuine confusion sent ice water through my veins. If even Jack Simpson didn’t know where Anna was, something was seriously wrong.


    Anna’s POV


    Daniel Davis and I were racing to the auction when fate delivered a spine-chilling message. Just two blocks from our destination, a horrific scene unfolded before my eyes. A massive truck plowed into a white sedan—my car—at the intersection, sending it flipping onto its side with a sickening crunch of metal.


    That should have been me in that car.


    If Sean hadn’t insisted that Rachel pose as me and leave first, I would have been the one trapped in that twisted metal coffin.


    "Help them!" The words tore from my throat before I could process what was happening.


    Daniel mmed on the brakes and we both sprinted toward the wreckage.


    My heels wobbled on the asphalt, but adrenaline pushed me forward. A crowd was already gathering, their faces painted with horror and morbid fascination.


    I spotted Rachel crawling out from the back seat, her movements slow and pained. The wig meant to mimic my hairstyle hung askew, blood streaming down her forehead where her sunsses should have been. My chest constricted with guilt so intense it felt physical.


    "Where’s Sean? How is Sean?" My voice was barely recognizable, thin and trembling with panic.


    Rachel pointed toward the driver’s seat, her breathingbored. "Sean is trapped."


    Bystanders were discussing rescue options in urgent tones while sirens wailed in the distance. I stood there, designer clothes suddenly feeling like a costume, utterly useless in this moment of crisis.


    Sean spotted me from inside the wreckage. Even with blood trickling down his temple, his first thought was of my obligations.


    "Ms. Shaw, you should go. I’m fine.


    The police will be here soon. You need to get to auction." His voice was weak but resolute, more concerned with my business than his own safety.


    Rachel yanked off the wig, revealing her matted hair. She tugged at my borrowed designer suit-now torn and bloodied-kicked off the heels, and fixed me with a determined stare.


    "Boss, you need to go. I’ve got this." Her tone brooked no argument, but I could see the pain she was trying to hide.


    Daniel gently touched my elbow. "Ms. Shaw, it’s time."


    _This is why I hired them-their dedication is unmatched. But am I really considering leaving them here?_ The internal battle raged inside me.


    The auction would determine the fate of Skke District, everything I’d been fighting for. But these people had just taken a blow meant for me.


    "Both of you need to go to the hospital for aplete check-up." I heard myself giving instructions, as if the act might somehow absolve my guilt.


    "Don’t skip it just because you feel fine. Head injuries can have dyed symptoms. You need thorough examinations."


    My voice grew firmer, but my legs felt like they might buckle at any moment.


    "Contact me immediately if there are any issues. Thepany will cover all medical expenses. Your safety is what matters most."


    _If that had been me in that car..._ I couldn’tplete the thought. Rachel was physically strong, trained in self-defense. Sean was quick, alert. Both had been prepared. I might not have even had the strength to crawl out like Rachel had.


    The ambnce finally arrived, blue lights painting everyone’s faces in ghostly hues. Paramedics rushed forward, pushing through the crowd with practiced efficiency.


    "T’lle to the hospital to check on you both as soon as I finish at the auction," I promised, my tone heavy with concern and apology.


    With onest nce at the mangled white sedan-the vehicle that should have been my steel coffin—I forced myself to turn away. Each step with Daniel toward the auction venue felt like a betrayal, but the clock was ticking. Someone had just tried to kill me, and I couldn’t let them win.