Chapter 12 - The Auction
Three Months Later.
The sun was bright and clear over the Hudson River as the grand ballroom of the St. Regis Hotel filled with two hundred of New York’s most elite bankruptcy attorneys, hedge fund managers, and art collectors.
On the stage, an auctioneer from Sotheby's stood behind a lectern, holding an iron gavel.
"Lot 14," the auctioneer announced, pointing to a large digital screen behind him. "The complete contents and leasehold interest of Penthouse 52A, 432 Park Avenue. Bidding starts at twelve million dollars."
Sitting in the front row, wearing a cream-colored silk trench coat and holding bidding paddle number 01, was me.
Sitting beside me was my father, his silver-topped cane resting between his knees, his eyes scanning the crowd with cool indifference.
"Twelve million," a venture capitalist from Boston called out from row three.
"Thirteen," a real estate mogul from Dubai offered.
I didn't raise my paddle yet. I waited, watching the numbers climb.
"Fifteen million," the auctioneer called out. "Do I hear sixteen?"
I raised my paddle softly.
"Sixteen million to the lady in the front row," the auctioneer nodded.
The venture capitalist turned, saw my face, recognized the Sterling family crest embroidered on my leather handbag, and immediately lowered his paddle, stepping back into the aisle.
No one else bid.
CRACK.
"Sold for sixteen million dollars to Miss Katherine Sterling," the auctioneer declared.
My father turned to me, a faint smile touching his lips. "What do you plan to do with the apartment, darling?"
May you like
I looked at the digital photo of the living room displayed on the screen—the room where the antique cane had torn across my silk blouse three months ago.
"I’m having the entire floor demolished, Father," I said softly, my voice completely clear. "We’re turning it into a public green space for the Sterling Foundation’s children's choir."
