Chapter 129
Connie sighed, “At this point, all we can hope for is that Vesta doesn’t bid on the emerald jewelry set coming up.”
Charlene felt the same way.
But…Was it possible?
The starting bid for the emerald set was ten million.
Someone bid fifteen million.
Charlene was the second to bid: “Eighteen million.”
“Twenty million.”
“Twenty–five million.”
Charlene and Connie sighed in relief when they saw Vesta hadn’t bid, but just as Charlene was about to raise her paddle again, Vesta lifted hers.
“Fifty million.”
The room gasped in surprise, but Vesta calmly lowered her hand.
Charlene clenched her fists, thought for a moment, and then bid: “Sixty million.”
“Sixty–five million.”
“Seventy million.”
At this, Charlene hesitated. It was her grandmother’s 70th birthday, a rare occasion, and if she bid eighty
million-
Just as she thought this, Vesta raised her paddle again: “One hundred and twenty million.”
Charlene’s heart sank, and after catching her breath, she silently lowered her bidding paddle.
Perhaps everyone had become accustomed to Thorne’s extravagant spending.
From that point on, no one else placed a bid.
The item went to Vesta.
Charlene wasn’t interested in the remaining lots, but the auction house rules required attendees to stay until the end of the auction, so she had no choice but to remain seated.
The prices for the remaining items were expectedly higher, and seeing Thorne effortlessly spend over three hundred and sixty million in one evening, Connie couldn’t help but comment, “Thorne won’t keep bidding, will he? Even for someone as rich as him, there’s a limit to such spending. He really doesn’t hold back when it comes to spending on his mistress.”
Charlene couldn’t provide an answer to Connie’s musings.
However, the answer soon became clear when Thorne didn’t bid again.
After the auction, Charlene and Connie left the hall.
As they were leaving, Charlene didn’t give Thorne another glance.
Connie, however, was quite curious about that side of the room, so she saw Dalton going over to Thorne and Vesta to greet them.
As Charlene and Connie were exiting the auction hall, an acquaintance of Connie’s approached them. After exchanging a few pleasantries with Connie, the acquaintance’s gaze fell on Charlene and asked in a kind
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one, “Connie, who’s this young lady? I don’t think I’ve seen her before. Which family’s daughter is she?”
Connie introduced Charlene to her.
Hearing this, the lady’s smile faded slightly, “Ah, Mr. Ross’s niece, I see. Quite the beauty…”
She knew something about the Ross family situation.
It was said that Mr. Ross’s sister had suffered from love–related distress in her youth, which affected her mental health, leading her to spend years in a sanatorium.
Given Charlene’s attractive appearance and gentle demeanor, and assuming her education was also “impressive, her mother’s mental health issues might not be seen as too significant of a concern.
Unfortunately, the Ross family’s business had been declining over the past few years.
Even with Vernon tirelessly working for the company, the chances of The Ross Group making a comeback seemed slim.
With these two significant drawbacks, no matter how appealing Charlene was, she wouldn’t be deemed
suitable to enter her doors.
What a pity…
Even though the lady didn’t outright say it, Charlene and Connie could somewhat pick up on what she was implying.
The lady had more to say to Connie, so they didn’t leave immediately.
Meanwhile, Thorne, Vesta, and Dalton also emerged from the auction hall.
Dalton excused himself, “I have to leave for a bit, we’ll catch up next time.”
“Next time,” Thorne replied.
Dalton nodded and left with his friend.
Others came up to greet Thorne.
As Thorne turned his body towards them, he and Charlene’s eyes met.
Charlene paused, quickly averting her gaze.
Thorne, too, looked away and continued his conversation with the newcomers.
Vesta, noticing Thondifferent behavior towards Charlene, couldn’t help but let a slight smirk cross her
face.
After chatting for over ten minutes, Connie’s throat was parched. She and Charlene headed to the refreshment area, planning to grab something to drink before leaving.
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