Olivia Sparks - Volume 1 Chapter 130 Double The Pot

“Ehem.” A passing Oliver cleared his throat just as Olivia was to pounce on Maxen. “If I were you, I would save that kiss for later.” Oliver gritted his teeth. He couldn’t believe how these two were so careless in their interactions. Now he had to hand over his sweetie to break the lovers apart.

Maxen rolled his tongue on his teeth, his grasp on Olivia tightened when Oliver gestured for them to switch partners.

The scowl on Maxen’s face deepened the farther the siblings danced away. He locked his eyes on the emcee, tipping his head to the sidea silent code that it would be the final song for the night.

The emcee sent a thumbs up, flooding Maxen’s face with relief. He darted his gaze to the other side of the room and noticed Konstantin’s eyes were locked on Olivia.

Meanwhile, Olivia stifled the smile on her face, biting her bottom lip when Oliver didn’t stop from growling like an angered puppy.

“You’re so annoying,” Oliver huffed, cracking his tensed neck muscles. “Everyone’s been staring in your direction and you didn’t give a single f.u.c.k.”

“What? We’re just dancing. What’s wrong with that?”

“You weren’t. You were eye f.u.c.k.i.n.g each other the whole time. On top of that, I can smell your pheromones miles away from the hotel.”

Olivia grinned, but it fell when she saw Henry Lin glanced their way with creases on his forehead.

“You should have insisted for Mom to join us,” she mumbled, unhappy that their mother’s “healing” was kept under wraps from the public.

“She’s the one who declined to attend, saying parties makes her tired. Or maybe if you spared her a little of your time and talked to her, she might change her mind but nope, you chose to ignore her.”

“I’m not ignoring her. I’m busy with work.”

Rolling his eyes, Ollie digressed, “Yeah you are but we know the truth. Anyway, Finn’s birthday is coming up, so please, Livi. Just try to be on the same page as her.”

Olivia took a sharp breath, nodding her head in agreement. In the past, she was always looking forward to their mother waking up but when Amelia finally did, what Olivia expected to be a happy reunion turned into a sour one.

Sometimes when her brain pauses, she would find herself thinking about their mother, thinking about herself and her reactions.

Maybe it’s the hormones, Olivia thought in passing when a flashback of their meeting engulfed her mindthe night when her logic shutdown and her anger over Henry took over her she couldn’t see through what Amelia was trying to say.

She wanted to help her mother. She wanted to bring back the sparkle in her eyes that were infinitely trapped in grainy sepia photographs. But it was pretty obvious that light in their mother’s eyes was lost, and everyone could see that yet ignored it just so they could move on and and pretend everything’s back to normal.

Her reverie was cut short when Oliver halted.

“May I?” Steel-grey eyes turned into a crescent moon, a palm up in offering.

“Sure.” Olivia shrugged, accepting Konstantin’s hand.

“I forgot to say earlier that you look lovely tonight.”

Tilting her head up to look at him, a small smile curved on her lips as she thanked him. “What brought you here, Mr. Ivanov? Ouch.”

She felt his grip on her hand tightened, a frown formed on her face. She wiggled it free but he loosened up when he realized her discomfort.

“Sorry. I was just I I didn’t mean to I will never hurt you. You know that.” He spun her around, and when she was facing him again, he said, “And you can call me Kostya.”

“Ok, Kostya,” she replied with a small smile. Olivia’s eyes darted to her hand, and soon, Konstantin was soothing it, rubbing circles on the ball of her hand. She wiggled it so he would stop from doing so which he did.

“Does it still hurt?”

“It’s okay. I’m fine. Jeez you’re a nervous wreck. Is there a lady that you’re trying to impress here tonight? I don’t think dancing with me is a good decision.”

The two shared a laugh. They were far away from where Maxen stood but for an odd reason his hearing was magnified tonight that he swore he could hear Olivia and Konstantin’s shallow breathing.

“Yeah. It was a good kind of bad but still worth it if you ask me.”

“Worth it if the girl that you’re making jealous would pull my hair once this dance is over.”

Dipping her, their eyes met for a brief second when Olivia scanned the room, smiling upon seeing Maxen in a corner.

Pulling back up, she noticed Konstantin stiffen, yet again. She searched the room, processing who could he be looking at but when she traced his sight, she saw him gazing at her.

Her brows furrowed, and he mirrored the same. “Something wrong on my face?”

“What?” He shook his head. “No, you’re perfect.”

“Oh. Ok. Well, with the way that you’re looking at me, it’s either I have dirt on my face or the girl you’re trying to impress is looking at you right now.”

“Yes, she is.” Konstantin gulped. His beading with sweat temples amused Olivia, piquing her interest on who that lady was.

“Remember that one time it was raining and you swoop under my umbrella asking me if I have an extra one?” Olivia asked.

“I mean, who brings two umbrellas?” His chest rumbled. How could he forget the memory that replayed a million times in his head for years?

“Now that I think about it, you must have wanted to share umbrellas with someone. You sneaky arse. You should have told me. I would have brought you to her.”

“It’s fine. It was a beautiful memory I won’t trade with anything else.”

Seething on his spot was Maxen, his jaw ticked as three more songs played and a few more men danced with his baby. He sent daggers to the emcee who sent him another thumbs up. Rolling his tongue over his teeth, the emcee froze in his spot. He lifted his thumbs up, slicing it over his neck, finally getting the message that was sent across.

Maxen watched as the emcee approached the stage and sent a signal to the maestro to soften the music so he could start with the next half of the affair.

Soon, the dance hall was empty, and the guests were back to their seats. One by one, pieces of art ranging from paintings to jewelry were sold.

“And now” the emcee’s voice dipped low, the vibrato in his tone sent a rush of adrenaline to everyone in the room. “The highlight of the night, a piece from Xandra. Her last one sold for sixteen million dollars. Let’s see how this one will fare tonight. All proceeds will go to her chosen charity, House of Chamenos.”

Rolling out from the backstage, a covered masterpiece took center stage. And when the emcee pulled the linen, a painting of a mother offering the world to her infant made the whole room silent, a pin drop could be heard from the outside. The background was too dark, the mother’s face was distorted into a swirl, and the only light colors in the portrait was the innocence of the infant.

A corner of Olivia’s lips curled down when something tight tugged on her heartstrings. A part of her told her brain that she needed to own that painting. She glanced across the table when she felt her purse vibrate, smiling at the person she knew would send her a message.

[Maxen: Need some fresh air?]

Reading Maxen’s text message, the curl on her mouth morphed into a small smile, her fingers danced on the phone screen.

[Olivia: You’re the one who will be needing that later. *wink*]

A smirk painted her lips. She eagerly anticipated Maxen’s reaction who bit his lips as he scratched the skin atop his eyebrows.

[Maxen: Make sure you don’t tap out when I start kissing that s.e.xy mouth.]

[Olivia: Challenge accepted, Your Highness.]

The two were busy exchanging messages, letting others bid on the piece that they should be watching out for.

Beside Olivia, Oliver elbowed his sister. He was distracted at how inattentive she was the entire time. Wasn’t she supposed to be charging bids at that moment?

From the one million opening bid, it doubled. Then it tripled. And god knows how much money was burning inside the room. It’s for charity, anyway. Or that’s what their excuse was. Everyone knew it was a piss fight between the billionaires inside the room, itching to prove their worth with how much money they could spend in a night.

The emcee went around the hall, entertaining the guests, firing jokes here and there, begging some to double the pot.

Soon enough, another silence befell the room when Henry Lin bid for fifteen million dollars.

“Is there anyone who will challenge fifteen million dollars?” The emcee’s powerful voice reverberated in the room, pleading the guests to bid higher.

Lifting his pad, Konstantin countered, “Sixteen million dollars.” Gasps and whispered filled the room but what took their breaths away was the bid that sealed the night.

“Twenty million dollars, sir.”