The na of the Billion Bloodline Group was quickly becoming a buzzword in the upper echelons of Notting Hill. It hadn’t yet reached the status of long-standing families or global firms, but within the city, its reputation was spreading like fire. And much of that was thanks to Sanna Curts herself.
She could not stop praising them. To anyone who would listen, she sang about how they had saved her company, about how they alone had possessed the insight to see her business through its roughest storm. That kind of endorsent, coming from a woman well-known for her lavish events and respected social ties, carried weight.
Because of her, other families began to take notice. Whispers circled at gatherings and private dinners. Who had been reckless, or bold, enough to invest in such a risky venture? Sotis these punts paid off, yes, but most often they were little more than expensive failures. Whoever had placed their trust in the Curts at such a low point was either foolish beyond asure... or terrifyingly shrewd.
Now, in the glowing light of Sheri’s graduation event, the question rose again, focused sharply on the glittering jewel resting against her collarbone.
"A gift from the Billion Bloodline Group?" Anton Stable muttered as his eyes narrowed on the necklace. His voice wasn’t ant to carry, but it did, heavy with doubt. "Do they truly have so much money to waste on a gift like that... or are they trying to trick us all?"
The words, though quiet, stung Sanna imdiately. Her lips tightened into a frown, and she turned her sharp gaze on him.
"You think it’s fake?" she said, her tone cutting. "Why don’t you look for yourself? Examine it with your own eyes!"
In truth, Sanna herself had no absolute certainty. The world of replicas had grown sophisticated; counterfeiters could reproduce jewels so convincingly that only seasoned professionals could tell the difference. Still, she chose to believe. She chose to put her faith in the company that had put their faith in her. The Billion Bloodline Group would not dare insult her, or her daughter, by sending sothing so foolish as a forgery. At least, that was what she desperately hoped.
With a graceful motion, she gestured for Sheri to remove the necklace. Sheri’s hands moved slowly, almost reluctantly, unclasping the piece and lifting it away. Even she was nervous.
Why would a venture firm, one we barely know, send sothing like this? Sheri thought as her fingers trembled faintly. We’ve never t them face-to-face, and we still haven’t even repaid the loan they gave us. And yet here is a necklace worth a tenth of that entire loan? It’s madness. Surely this can’t be real.
The jewel was placed into Anton’s waiting palm. He held it with a weight that felt heavier than re gold and gems. His eyes flickered with professional instinct. The Stable family dealt in luxury car sales, but over the years they had dabbled in other luxury markets, watches, jewelry, rare collectibles. Anton himself had been trained to spot quality at a glance, to separate true buyers from pretenders the mont they stepped into his showrooms.
He tilted the ruby under the light, studying the gleam. The craftsmanship was impeccable. The tal was pure. Every surface scread authenticity, yet the very rarity of the piece made him hesitate.
"Well?" Christopher Owens asked, leaning closer. "You’ve been staring at it long enough. Real or not?"
Anton exhaled slowly, fingers brushing over the clasp. "It’s difficult to say. This piece is... unique. One of one. There are markings here that appear correct, but I’m not a certified jeweler. I cannot confirm with absolute certainty."
That answer drew a mixture of reactions. So frowned. So smirked knowingly, sensing blood in the water.
"If you were to ask , though," Anton went on, "I’d say the chances it’s a replica are very high. Do you understand how rare the Ruby Canel truly is? It isn’t just about money. Access matters more. Connections. Relationships. You can’t simply walk into a shop and purchase sothing like this, even with unlimited funds. It is highly sought after, coveted by collectors, by the wealthiest individuals across the globe. A piece like this could be purchased for one million... and then resold for ten."
His words hung heavy. Around them, murmurs grew louder.
Sheri’s lips pressed together, her heart sinking. She had suspected as much, and yet hearing it confird aloud still stung.
Why am I upset? she asked herself, staring down at her own hands. I already guessed it wasn’t real. So why does it feel like a betrayal? Is it because... for a mont, I believed soone actually cared enough to give and my family sothing so extravagant?
Her thoughts twisted further. Part of her, a foolish part, had wondered if the gift was sohow connected to Max. She had seen him and their old classmates wearing Bloodline rchandise. She had heard rumors about gyms and businesses. There had to be so link, right? But the truth was clearer: she was grasping at straws.
Max hadn’t had access to his wealth back then, even if he did now. And even if he had, why would he care to save the Curts after everything, the broken engagent, the way her family had turned on him?
All she had was the faintest connection, a connection that many people had at the school, although he was the only person with wealth capable that wasn’t enough.
As the tension thickened, Sanna stepped in again, her smile suddenly widening.
"Oh, I know," she said, voice ringing with theatrical delight. "We have soone here who can settle this debate once and for all. A professional. Soone who runs their very own jewelry shop."
She had saved this move deliberately, just in case soone like Anton challenged her. Now she revealed it like a trump card. Sanna’s faith in the Billion Bloodline Group had beco absolute.
And she was determined to prove it to everyone present.
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