Without hesitation, she opened the driver’s door. “I’m driving.”
She slid into the seat quickly, gripping the steering wheel with excitement.
Emma settled into the passenger seat, amused. She opened the glove compartment and pulled out two pairs of sunglasses.
“I bought these,” she said, handing one over. “This one’s for you. And this one’s for me. Look—matching.”
Sophia grinned and put them on. “Do I look super rich?”
Emma put hers on too and grinned. “You look illegal.”
Sophia laughed and started the engine. The Corvette roared to life.
Both of them squealed.
Music blasted through the speakers as she pulled onto the street. The wind rushed in through the slightly open windows, tanglingtheir hair. Both girls started singing loudly — completely off-key — drumming their hands against the dashboard.
As they approached a red light, Sophia lowered the volume slightly.
Emma turned toward her. “Wait. What’s your new name again for hosting auctions? I forgot. I don’t want to accidentally call you the wrong name in front of people.”
“Sylvia,” Sophia replied, easing her foot on the brake.
Emma tilted her head. “Sylvia,” she repeated slowly. “Why did you change your name? What was wrong with Sophia? You could’ve hosted auctions under your real name.”
Sophia’s hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel, though her expression remained calm.
“After I moved to London, I needed to rebuild my identity,” she explained quietly. “I wanted a clean slate. In London, I worked more closely with high-society collectors. Art investors. Private bidders. I needed to make a strong impression. A new name helped me stand out and cut off from my past.”
Emma gasped and clutched her chest. “So I’m basically sitting next to a celebrity right now? A high-society auction queen?”
Sophia turned and gave her a playful wink. “You should get an autograph.”
Emma laughed and bumped her shoulder.
And as the light turned green and the car sped forward again, the sunlight reflecting off the red hood.
Chapter 13 My Greed For Money
Magnus stepped out of the towering glass building of Empire of Diamonds, the sunlight reflecting sharply off the polished exterior.
Brent, his secretary, followed a step behind, tablet tucked neatly against his chest. He matched Magnus’s pace without a word, already scrolling through the day’s schedule.
The city buzzed around them — cars passing, faint honks in the distance, the hum of afternoon traffic.
Magnus adjusted his cufflinks absentmindedly as his gaze swept across the street.
A red Corvette shot past at high speed, engine roaring, sunlight glinting off its polished surface.
Magnus’s steps slowed.
His eyes followed the car.
For a brief second, something flickered across his face — a strange, instinctive annoyance. His jaw tightened, and a faint crease formed between his brows.
Brent noticed immediately.
“Mr. Graves?” he glanced at him. “Is something wrong?”
