“Lot fifteen,” the auctioneer’s calm voice carried across the hall. “A nineteenth-century gold pocket watch from the private collection of Robert Caldwell.”

Whispers rippled through the crowd, a wave of tension thickening the air. Tessa turned, scanning each face one by one. As she expected, every pair of eyes landed on Nathan. He sat there perfectly composed, leaning back like none of it mattered. Too composed.

“You knew my father’s watch was going to be auctioned, didn’t ...