If she could also gain Mr. Pendleton's recognition, her accomplishments would outshine even Mrs. Delacroix's.

Victoria had just stepped out of her car when another luxury vehicle pulled up in front of the Royal Solmaris Auction Hall.

The crowd's eyes immediately locked onto the flashy license plate—three consecutive eights—and a collective gasp rippled through the air.

"Isn't that Sebastian Kingsley's car?"

"Sebastian? Who's that? I've never heard of him."

"The Kingsley family's empire is primarily overseas. It's no surprise you haven't. Sebastian only began expanding his business here this year, and rumor has it, he's just as powerful as Blackwood Enterprises."

"Pity he's already secretly married—and with a child, no less. Otherwise, I'd have introduced my daughter to him."

"Secretly married? Didn't Alexander do the same? Is hiding marriages some new trend among the elite?"

"Trend? Hardly. Only those with something to hide or something to protect would keep their families in the shadows. No respectable man would conceal his wife and children."

As whispers swirled, a delicate, porcelain hand slipped into Sebastian's.

At the same moment, a slender leg in a stiletto emerged from the car, instantly commanding attention.

A hush fell over the crowd. Just that glimpse of her leg was enough to set imaginations aflame—if her legs were this breathtaking, how stunning must the rest of her be?

Moments ago, all eyes had been on Victoria. Now, every gaze was riveted to the car, breaths held in anticipation.

Slowly, she stepped out.

Her sky-blue evening gown clung to her tall, graceful frame, accentuating every elegant curve. Her poise was regal, her presence magnetic.

Her features were exquisitely refined—soft yet striking, as if painted by a master's hand. The longer one looked, the more mesmerizing she became. Hers was a beauty that transcended mere appearance; it was in the way she carried herself, the quiet confidence she exuded.

"Good heavens, who is she? Which family does she belong to? I've never seen her before."

"She arrived with Sebastian—could she be his secret wife?"

"No wonder he's kept her hidden. With a woman like that, I wouldn't want to risk showing her off either. Someone might just steal her away."

"They say Alexander's wife is so plain he's ashamed to be seen with her, but Sebastian's wife is so stunning he can't bear to share her with the world... What a contrast."

Victoria, who had basked in the spotlight mere moments ago, now stood frozen, her fists clenched.

The woman who had stolen everyone's attention was none other than Amy Sinclair.

She wore a fitted gown—just like Amy.

This was deliberate.

Just then, Nathan Prescott stormed over.

When his eyes landed on Amy, disbelief flashed across his face.

Without hesitation, he blocked her path.

"What are you doing here, you washed-up nobody? This isn't a place for trash like you!" His lips curled into a mocking smirk. "Oh, I see. You're here to hunt for your next rich husband, aren't you? Amy, have you no dignity? Barely divorced, and already prowling for your next target?" He raised his voice, ensuring every ear caught his words. "Security! This woman doesn't have an invitation—she's crashing the auction! Remove her immediately! With valuables like these on display, who knows what she might try to steal?"

Several ex-military security guards immediately marched forward, their expressions stern.

One spoke firmly. "Who here is without an invitation?"

Nathan pointed accusingly at Amy. "I know her! She has no business being here. Get her out—she's trouble!"

At his command, the guards closed in, forming a tight circle around Amy.