Chapter 4: Bidding War at Midnight

By the time I arrived, bidding at the Blue Lantern Club was already underway.

The club was buzzing—laughter, clinking glasses, the low hum of conversation. The air was thick with gardenia perfume and expensive cologne. I slipped inside, letting the sounds and scents wash over me.

The debut night of the most beautiful male escort in Maple Heights was a grand affair—even entry cost a thousand dollars.

I handed over the cash without hesitation, feeling the weight of the bills in my hand. The crisp paper was oddly satisfying.

My assistant, Chelsea, looked heartbroken as I handed over the cash.

She pouted, arms crossed, her voice low. “Boss, why are you being so generous today? Last time you wanted that dress for two hundred, you couldn’t bear to buy it!” She stuck out her lip, feigning a glare.

Her words made me laugh. I ruffled her hair, grinning. “That was different, Chelsea. Tonight, I’m investing in my future.”

In the past, I really was reluctant to spend on myself. Even after years of hard work building up the Harper family business and amassing wealth, my family’s expenses were huge. Dad loved rare books, Mom loved jewelry, and Carter, working as an associate gunning for partner at a law firm, was always angling for promotion—naturally, he needed money for gifts.

I was always frugal, spending next to nothing on myself. But in the end, I just raised a pack of ungrateful wolves. Might as well enjoy it myself.

The realization was liberating. For once, I was the one calling the shots.

I patted my purse.

“It’s just a thousand bucks. I’ll earn it back. Tonight, I’ll show you how the world works.”

Chelsea grinned, her skepticism melting away. She nudged me. “Alright, boss. Let’s see some fireworks.”

The air was thick with gardenia perfume and coffee brewed in hand-thrown mugs. The golden oak beams were draped with layer upon layer of blue velvet. In the center, a man played piano, his music clear and elegant.

The room glowed with soft lamplight, shadows dancing on the walls. The crowd leaned in, mesmerized by the music, the promise of something forbidden.

He was tonight’s star—the male escort being auctioned off, Julian Lane.

All eyes were on him, his fingers gliding over the keys. He looked untouchable, a prince in exile. The way he played, you could tell he was somewhere else entirely.

Chelsea gasped.

“Miss, he’s even better looking than the boss!” She nudged me, eyes wide, her jaw practically on the floor.

I looked closely. His crisp white shirt hung just right, his figure tall and slender as a birch. His eyes were half-lowered, long lashes casting crescent shadows. A beauty mark at the corner of his eye floated in the shade, like snow on marble.

He was the kind of beautiful that made people stop and stare. I felt a strange mix of awe and envy, my heart skipping a beat.

My husband, Carter, was already considered handsome, but Julian Lane was even more so.

It was almost unfair—like the universe had decided to show off. I caught myself staring, then forced my gaze away.

My thoughts swirled—not just because of his looks, but because Julian Lane had played a crucial part in my tragic past life.

I remembered the way his name had haunted me, the way his choices had shaped my fate. His face was burned into my memory—always just out of reach.

Back then, I refused to let my husband save my sister. Evelyn, furious, came to the Blue Lantern Club looking for a male companion. It happened to be Julian Lane’s debut night. He caught the eye of Luke Quinn, a notorious rich boy from the west side. Luke was ruthless, known for his cruel ways. The last male escort he bought ended up hospitalized and didn’t make it out in one piece.

The rumor mill had worked overtime, painting Luke as a villain and Julian as a tragic hero. Mrs. Sanders at the bakery said she’d seen Luke drag a boy out by the collar. People couldn’t stop talking.

Evelyn prided herself on her kindness. She couldn’t bear to see Julian Lane fall into such misery, so in a moment of impulse, she bid sixty thousand—twice what Luke offered—and won.

It was the talk of the town for weeks. “Did you hear about Evelyn Harper?” “She saved that poor boy’s life!” The whispers never stopped.

Everyone praised her for her beauty and kindness, but no one knew she was broke, unable to even pay the club fee. The sixty grand came out of my pocket. The business suffered from such a huge, sudden withdrawal. To make matters worse, Luke Quinn was the son of the man who owned most of the clubs in town. Humiliated by Evelyn, Mr. Quinn targeted me for a while, making my life miserable. I had to personally apologize and buy club memberships at high prices to calm him down.

The fallout was brutal. I lost clients, friends, opportunities. All for a sister who never thanked me.

Just as things settled, I heard Julian Lane had been claimed by his family and become a minor celebrity. But he only saw Evelyn as his benefactor. At her request, he crushed the Harper family business, pushing us further toward ruin. He never knew it was my money that saved him. I was his true savior.

Irony is a cruel teacher. I watched from the sidelines as he rose to fame, never knowing the truth.

Later, I tried everything to see him and explain, but his security kept me away. By the time the business collapsed, I died miserably in the backwoods.

Desperation drove me, but the doors were always closed. I was invisible, forgotten. My fists bruised from knocking.

Julian Lane didn’t personally harm me, but because of him, I died all the same.

His indifference was a wound that never healed. Even now, it made my chest ache.

Now, looking at his stunning face, my feelings were complicated.

Admiration, resentment, curiosity—they all tangled inside me, impossible to sort out.

After a long moment, I pulled myself together. Whether I hated him or not didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was becoming his benefactor in this life.

I straightened my shoulders, determination settling in my chest. My hands tingled with adrenaline. This time, I’d make my own fate.

The bidding was fierce below the stage.

Paddles shot up, voices rising. “Two thousand!” “I’ll add a thousand to Miss Carter’s bid!” “Four thousand!” The energy was electric, the crowd hungry.

The club manager was excited.

He rubbed his hands together, grinning. “No restrictions tonight—whoever bids highest wins. Any higher offers?”

Wearing a veil, I rested my chin on my hand, waiting. Finally, I heard Luke Quinn’s hoarse voice.

He sauntered in, the crowd parting around him. People shrank away, whispering. He liked the attention.

“Twenty thousand!”

“They say this Lane guy is the most beautiful man in a decade. I want to see for myself. Is he better than my other boys?”

The room fell silent.

The tension was so thick you could taste it. No one dared challenge Luke Quinn—his money, his power, his ruthlessness.

“Twenty grand is too much.”

“And it’s Luke Quinn—poor Lane is doomed.”

“Yeah, he’ll suffer for sure if Luke wins…”

The whispers rippled through the crowd, a mix of fear and fascination. My palms started to sweat.

Luke Quinn stood tall, his lecherous gaze fixed on Julian Lane. Years of debauchery had ruined his once-handsome looks. He now had dark circles and sallow skin, waving his glass and pretending to be a gentleman—a ridiculous sight.

He leered at Julian, his intentions clear. I felt a surge of protectiveness, unexpected and fierce.

Julian Lane pressed his lips together, his eyes cold as black marble, clearly disgusted with Luke. But trapped in this world, he could only watch as Luke approached, powerless.

I saw the fear in his eyes, the resignation. My heart squeezed for him.

“Pretty boy, you’re mine tonight.”

Luke’s words were a threat, not a promise. The crowd watched, silent and complicit. I clenched my fists under the table.

Just as Luke’s hand was about to touch Julian Lane’s face, I raised my paddle.

I stood, voice steady. “I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed tonight, Mr. Quinn.”

“—I want to light the lantern!”

The words hung in the air, a challenge and a promise. The crowd turned, eyes wide. I felt the heat of every gaze.

Luke was momentarily stunned.

He stared at me, disbelief etched on his face. “A woman, bidding against me for a man?”

His eyes gleamed with malice.

He sneered, voice dripping with contempt. “What, your own man can’t satisfy you?”

“You’re so desperate you came here for a boy toy!”

Chelsea’s face flushed with anger.

She bristled, ready to jump in and defend me. Her fists balled at her sides.

I pressed her shoulder.

I shook my head, giving her a reassuring smile. “Isn’t the Blue Lantern Club a place to spend a fortune for a little fun?”

“Why take it so seriously, Mr. Quinn?”

I met his eyes, offering him a drink.

I lifted my glass, toasting him with a smile. “But I think the cocktails here can’t compare to what the owner of the Southside Book Bar mixes herself. Don’t you agree?”

Luke’s face went pale. He narrowed his eyes, trying to see through my veil.

He hesitated, thrown off balance. “Who are you… Never mind, I suddenly feel dizzy. I think I’ll go home and rest.”

“I’ve never been to that bar, so I can’t compare the drinks. Since you want Lane, I’ll let you have him tonight.”

He drained his glass, tossed it aside, and strode out. The crowd parted for him, and just like that, the room breathed again.

Chelsea, ready to argue, was surprised by how easily he gave up.

She stared after him, mouth open. “Miss, why was Luke Quinn so agreeable today? I thought he’d keep bidding!”

I stayed calm.

I shrugged, hiding a smile. “Maybe he has things to do.” I could feel the secret burning in my pocket.

Others didn’t know—Luke was the lover of the Southside Book Bar’s owner. A notorious playboy and a cultured lady—no one would have guessed. But they were a pair, doomed by fate. In my last life, before I died, her husband caught them in bed together, causing a huge scandal. That gave me leverage to force Luke to back down tonight.

The knowledge was power, and I wielded it with care. In Maple Heights, secrets were currency. I felt a rush of satisfaction.

After Luke left, I paid Julian Lane’s fee. In my last life, Evelyn spent sixty thousand for his debut night, not knowing how hard it was to make money. I only had to negotiate with the manager—forty grand, and I got his contract and took him from the Club.

It was a hefty sum, but I didn’t hesitate. My hand shook as I signed the check, but I felt alive.