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The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 93

**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**

**Chapter 93**

In the dimly lit auction hall, a tension hung in the air, thick and palpable. The stakes were high, and Aysel found herself at the heart of a dangerous game. The debt from the auction loomed ominously over her like a dark cloud; either she would bear the burden alone, or she would have to extend her hand, almost begging, toward Magnus. The thought sent a shiver down her spine.

Damon stood nearby, his brow furrowed in concern. Something felt off, a sense of foreboding gnawing at him.

Before he could voice his worries, Celestine’s voice rang out, cutting through the murmurs of the crowd as she boldly raised the bid from Aysel’s staggering “one hundred million” to “one hundred and ten million.”

A wave of gasps echoed through the hall, a mix of disbelief and awe.

“Are they out of their minds? It’s just a charity auction—do they really need to throw around this kind of money?” someone hissed, incredulity etched on their face.

“You don’t get it. This is a battle of legacies—the true heiress against the foster heiress,” another whispered, eyes darting between the two women.

“Competing with real silver and gold? That’s… quite a statement,” a third added, nodding appreciatively.

“This money could buy far more than just a mere necklace. I almost feel sorry for them; if they can’t spend it all, they might as well send it my way,” someone chuckled, the laughter tinged with envy.

The chatter surged like a tidal wave, the auction hall vibrating with excitement and nerves. The auctioneer, her hands trembling in anticipation, felt the thrill of her career reaching new heights. She was now presiding over an event where the bids had soared past a billion in total.

In a corner, Rudi Sanchez’s husband shook his head, disbelief written across his features. “Magnus is far too generous with his little girlfriend. Letting her do whatever she pleases,” he muttered, a hint of disdain coloring his tone.

Even the wealthiest among them had their limits when it came to spending. Normally, bids would have plateaued long before breaching the hundred million mark.

Rudi Sanchez’s expression darkened, her face paling as she glared at the distant box where Magnus sat, her mind racing with schemes to report back to the patriarch at the old estate.

Celestine felt the tension coil within her, her fingers curling into fists. She had no intention of raising the bid any further in the next round; this was a battle she meant to win, but at what cost?

As she waited, her heart pounding, a window in Magnus’s box opened, revealing a strikingly pale face, flawless and ethereal. A mischievous smile danced on the lips of the future Lady of the Moonvale Pack, and those who knew the game all shared a collective thought: “It’s over. That woman has returned.”

In an instant, she gestured toward Celestine and Damon, her voice dripping with mock admiration. “Impressive, impressive. I withdraw.”

Celestine sprang to her feet, her cloak brushing against a teacup on the table, nearly knocking it over.

Aysel Vale,

Her breath caught in her throat. How had she been ensnared once more? One hundred and ten million was no small amount, and the weight of it pressed heavily on her shoulders.

Just moments ago, she had reassured Damon that the Moonvale Pack would shoulder the cost; now, the reality of the debt loomed large, ready to swallow her whole. Liquidating her assets would mean parting with multiple estates and precious jewels, a painful sacrifice to cover the gap.

Across the room, their eyes locked in a fierce stare: one face radiating triumph, the other etched with iron resolve.

The Sanchez twins huddled together, whispering anxiously. “So… did that woman win?” one asked, her voice barely a breath.

Her sister rolled her eyes, exasperated. “Win what? Didn’t you see her father’s face?”

“What if Celestine hadn’t bid? What then?” the other pressed, curiosity piqued.

Their mother, Magnus’s aunt, effortlessly lifted both twins with a calm demeanor. “Then she would have bought it. The heir of the Sanchez Pack isn’t short on funds,” she replied, her tone matter-of-fact.

Chapter 93 1

Chapter 93 2

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