Chapter twenty one
His eyes had a peculiar glint in it. They both seemed to be familiar with each other. Something about his aura, his calmness. Even though he wore a mask, there was something about him that Rylene could not pin point about it.
Rylene and the familiar mysterious man gazed at each other with glint in their eyes...you can call it curiosity.
Rylene smiled at him, there was a message in it. A message that only each other could understand about it.
'There is something about him that I cannot figure about. Some sort of attraction for that person with the owner of the previous body. The main question is.... Who the hell is he?,'
Micheal morgan noticed how the new rich visitor was gazing at number three.
Each member is given a number upon which they had arrived and became a member of the auction.
Since Rylene was new, and there was twelve members, he became number thirteen.
The numbers were granted to give secrecy so as to hide their identities.
But, he noticed something. Something very peculiar and rare.
Number three, ever since becoming a member, he had interest in absolutely nothing and no one. It was like he went there to just watch everything like he had nothing to do. His eyes were deadpan as if he had no emotions. He never missed any auction.
But today, he was gazing at number thirteen as if he knows him or something else in it. He vowed to watch number thirteen very carefully.
The auction was almost over but Rylene was busy thinking about something that she did not notice.
"Our new member, you haven't bought anything. Has nothing caught your eyes?" Micheal morgan asked with a known smile. This Returned Rylene back to the real world.
"Nothing was interesting to me,you see..the watch that you auction is less expensive than the one I am wearing right now..." Rylene said then pulled her sleeve.
"Wait, that is...Patek Philippe Grandmaster...sold for 31,000,000 in an auction two days ago. It was said that an unknown person bought it privately and hid his identity. I never thought to be honored to meet him," number one said coldly.
Rylene's gaze turned to him and then turned her attention back to Micheal morgan.
"Today's auction is over. We welcome number thirteen to our group. Please have a goodnight," Micheal morgan said then smiled.
Everyone got up to leave.
Rylene got up turning to leave but the mysterious man who was number three stood at his path. Rylene's gaze was several degrees sharper ready to take him out at that instant.
Number three leaned down to her ears
"Be careful with number one...he is dangerous,"
Before Rylene could fully process what he said, he already left. Number one aproached him with a smile and greeted him.
"I hope we get to know each other better," with these cold words said, he left.
Rylene's eyes narrowed at the retreated figure of that man. Memorizing his movements, habits and figure. Rylene was sure that she would remember him if she meets with him again.
"How about I bring for you your drink?" Micheal Morgan asked from behind him
"Sure," she answered
She returned back to the seat that she had sat during the auction. Micheal Morgan had left to get me my bottle of Isabella Islay.
But, there was still someone who was seated. She was the woman who spoke about being a newbie when she arrived at the auction place.
"You made the other members jealous, do you know that? " She asked.
"How so?" Rylene asked and she chuckled.
"They can never could have achieved such feet of buying such a small thing with lots of money. That shows them that you drown in money that you just waste in using for nothing while ...they have to still struggle to find money to buy that expensive thing inorder to not be left behind..," she explained but Rylene still felt that there was more of her explanation.
"There are some members who have been part of this auction for more than year but haven't bought anything worth that much money so....it makes them jealous...take for example..number one,"
"What about him..?" Rylene asked her.
"He wants to be at the top of everything! Even if he'd have to go to hell or heaven to get what he wants, he will...so I'd be careful if I was you. He sees you as competition,"
Rylene chuckled darkly. Her voice several degrees colder.
"He is no where near me, my darling,"
This made her shocked and intrigued.
" You seem special," she said then got up.
Her eyes held a soft gleam, warm yet mysterious, as though she carried secrets only a few would ever earn the right to know.
Her style was effortlessly refined — a fitted dress that followed her form just enough to suggest, not reveal, paired with subtle jewelry that caught the light when she moved. Her voice was smooth, low, and steady, each word measured and magnetic.
There was an elegance to her presence — poised, intelligent, and self-assured — but beneath that grace was a spark of danger, the kind that made people look twice and wonder what she might be thinking.
She walked towards Rylene with a seductive gaze.
But before she could reach her, Micheal Morgan had arrived with the bottle. He was shocked with the scene and his eyes narrowed with a cold glint.
"I am sure that we will meet again...and I cannot wait," she whispered then left, Not forgetting to smile at Micheal Morgan.
Micheal Morgan gave the bottle to Rylene and she received it. He suggested to escort him to his car and he agreed.
The night pulsed with music from inside the club as an expensive car rolled into the parking lot — its arrival impossible to ignore. The deep, refined hum of the engine cut through the air like a low growl of dominance. Headlights glowed white and sharp, washing over rows of ordinary cars before landing on one figure waiting near the entrance — the owner,Rylene.
The vehicle, a sleek midnight-blue machine with chrome edges that caught every glint of light, slowed to a graceful stop right before her. Its tires whispered against the smooth pavement, coming to rest in perfect alignment as if obeying her unspoken command.
The engine purred for a moment longer before falling silent, leaving behind a charged stillness. The smell of high-octane fuel and expensive leather hung in the air. The car's door unlocked with a soft click, the lights dimmed, and for a heartbeat, it felt as though the entire lot revolved around that single reunion — man and machine, power and precision, both belonging only to each other.