Chapter 70:
He stared at the shard in disbelief, the damning words “Made in Kheley” seared into his mind.
How could this be?
It was fake? The seller had assured him it was a newly unearthed artifact from a thousand years ago.
Even the guests had believed it. Everything was fine—until Yelena ruined everything.
Arion’s thoughts churned as he glanced at Yelena, uncertain whether her revelation came from genuine expertise or sheer luck.
Bella, meanwhile, was too stunned to speak.
How could this have happened? Arion, the great connoisseur, had made a mistake?
“So, this vase is fake. And actually, many of the so-called treasures here are as well. If you don’t want to be ripped off, you might want to reconsider your bids.” Yelena broke the tense silence, her voice calm but cutting.
Her words sent a ripple through the crowd, their murmurs quickly swelling into an uproar.
The host, pale with anxiety, tried to regain control of the situation, but the growing commotion was too overwhelming.
Callum sighed, his expression a mix of amusement and admiration. He had brought Yelena here to broaden her horizons, but instead, she had ended up teaching them all a lesson.
This place was a web of hidden complexities, and Yelena seemed to navigate it effortlessly.
Bella, however, refused to believe Yelena’s apparent expertise.
She was convinced that it was sheer luck.
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How could Yelena possibly know how to appraise antiques?
Unable to stomach Yelena’s composed demeanor, Bella spoke up, her tone sharp. “Since you’re so confident in your appraisals, why don’t you pick something for yourself?”
Callum nodded, his tone indulgent. “Yelena, if you see something you like, let me know. I’ll buy it, genuine or fake—it doesn’t matter.”
Yelena’s lips curved slightly in response. Spending a fortune on a fake? Not a chance.
The murmurs around them grew louder as the crowd caught wind of Bella’s challenge. People leaned closer, their curiosity piqued. They wanted to see if this girl really knew what she was talking about.
Faced with the growing pressure, Yelena sighed inwardly. She scanned the table, her gaze moving over the display until it stopped at a painting in the corner.
With a calm confidence, she gestured toward it. “How much for that painting?” she asked. “I’ll take it.”
The crowd turned to look at the painting and immediately erupted into laughter. The piece was barely noticeable amidst the grandeur of the other items in the hall.
It featured just two indistinct blobs of black, almost like tangled steel wool, with no discernible shape or artistry.
It didn’t resemble anything remotely valuable—more like a child’s doodle than a masterpiece. The crowd’s murmurs grew louder.
“We thought she could appraise treasures, but it seems she was just lucky earlier!”
“Yeah, this can’t even be called a painting. Just two blobs. Honestly, I could do better with my eyes closed.”
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