Arden’s laughter didn’t faze me.
Neither did Gideon’s threats.
I turned to Voss.
“The card reader.”
I held out my hand.
Voss blinked.
“What?”
“The card reader. Hand it over.”
I held his stare. My voice was flat.
“Didn’t you want to verify my assets?”
The laughter died.
Every eye in the room locked on me.
Arden’s smile stalled.
Gideon’s brow tightened.
Vivian’s handkerchief stopped mid-dab.
“Have you lost your mind?”
Voss stared at me like I’d started speaking in tongues.
“A hundred billion. Do you understand what that number means?”
“You don’t have a hundred bucks to your name. What exactly are you planning to verify?”
I cut him off.
“You talk too much.”
I reached into my jacket and pulled out a card. Pure black.
No bank logo.
Just a gryphon traced in dark gold along the edge, wings spread.
I dropped it onto Voss’s tray.
“Swipe it.”
It landed on the silver with a soft click.
Voss looked at the unmarked card, and the smirk on his face could have lit the room.
“Where’d you get this, a gas station rewards rack?”
“This machine is linked to every major financial institution on the planet. It’s not the self-checkout at your corner store.”
The laughter that followed was louder this time. Meaner.
Arden had her hand over her mouth, shaking with laughter.
“Oh, it’s cute, though. Very convincing.”
“Mr. Hawthorne, you’ve been around. Ever seen a black card with no bank on it?”
Gideon didn’t even look.
“Ridiculous.”
“Manager Voss, call the police. The Hawthorne family isn’t here to play along with a lunatic.”
Vivian touched Gideon’s arm.
“Gideon, I think she’s actually unwell.”
“She’s not stable. Maybe we should call a hospital instead of the police.”
“A girl her age shouldn’t spend the night in a holding cell.”
A psychiatric hospital. Of course.
She wanted me buried alive, just like my mother.
I didn’t answer her. I looked at Voss.
“What’s wrong? An auction house this prestigious, and you’re scared to swipe one card?”
“Or are you afraid of what you’ll see?”
That did it.
“Fine. You want to die on this hill, I’ll dig the grave myself.”
He snatched the card and jammed it into the reader.
“Watch the screen.”
“The second it says ‘insufficient funds,’ you’re done.”
He hit the verification key.
The entire hall settled in, arms crossed, waiting for the punchline.
Arden already had her phone up, recording.
One second. Two seconds.
The numbers on the screen started climbing.
Voss glanced down.
He went still.
The taunt on his lips died somewhere in his throat.
He rubbed his eyes. Leaned closer.
The glow from the screen lit up a face that had gone white.
Six zeros. Seven zeros. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven.