Ella
The silence that followed that single word—billion—was so absolute it felt unreal, like the world had been muted.
One billion.
Not whispered. Not hesitated over. It was spoken smoothly, casually, as if the speaker had just ordered a glass of water instead of dropping a number that could buy entire districts, rewrite company boards, and shake auction houses to their foundations.
I felt it before I saw him—the shift in the air, the way the room subtly leaned backward under the sheer weight of that bid.
Every head turned.
Slowly.
Reverently.
I turned too.
The man stood near the back of the hall, hands tucked into the pockets of a perfectly tailored black coat, posture relaxed to the point of arrogance. He didn’t look like he’d just thrown a grenade into the art world. He looked…
