Chapter 3 It's Him?
Oliver's words stuck in his throat.
Deep down, resentment and unwillingness churned within him.
If it weren't for Sophia, how could he have endured so many years of hardship?
He should have inherited the company long ago and lived happily with Clara as husband and wife!
Sophia had seen enough of the spectacle. She said goodbye to Gavin, picked up her purse, and headed for the exit.
Behind her came the sound of hurried footsteps. She didn't turn around until Oliver's hand, trembling with suppressed rage, grabbed her arm.
Sophia's beautiful eyes were filled with frost. "Let go!"
Oliver's expression was dark as he said harshly, "What exactly did you tell Grandfather? Why does he still want to leave the company to you?"
"Grandfather is considering the company's long-term development. He has sharp judgment—saying such things naturally means he believes my abilities surpass yours!"
A hint of sarcasm flashed through Sophia's eyes.
Oliver had been a poor student since school. If Gavin hadn't been keeping him in check all these years, he probably would have gone astray long ago.
He'd spent the past two years abroad living it up—how could he possibly keep up with domestic developments?
Looking at her arm still being gripped, Sophia didn't hesitate to lift her foot and step down.
She was wearing high heels today, and when she stepped on Oliver's foot, she even deliberately ground her heel.
Oliver's expression instantly changed as he quickly stepped back, furious. "You!"
Sophia looked at him with complete indifference, taking out a disinfectant wipe from her bag and methodically cleaning the spot where he had grabbed her.
This scene, in Oliver's eyes, looked even more like provocation.
He said hatefully, "What's the meaning of this? You actually think I'm dirty? Don't forget we're married!"
"Are you actually clean? If it weren't for Gavin's sake, I wouldn't want to waste even one word on an idiot like you."
Sophia casually threw the wipe into a nearby trash can, looking at him coldly."As for being married? In my eyes, that's just a legally protected relationship. We're married now, but who knows about the future?"
She turned to leave, but Oliver rushed forward to block her again.
"What did you mean by that? Are you actually thinking of divorcing me?"
He sneered sarcastically, "Sophia, don't think I can't see what you're scheming. Your family has fallen, and you're not favored, so you need the Miller family's support."
"I don't know what despicable methods you used to make Grandfather like you so much. Anyway, the biggest reason I took Clara abroad was because of you!"
"Stop finding reasonable excuses for your selfish behavior. Your words now only make me find you more disgusting. If you don't want your dirty deeds abroad reaching Gavin's ears, stay away from me."
Sophia's threat was blatant.
With that, she got in her car and drove away.
When Oliver took Clara abroad, Gavin had cut off his living expenses. His mother had been secretly supporting him all these years.
Sophia had been watching Oliver's every move. She had as much evidence of his misdeeds as she wanted.
If it weren't for Gavin's sake, she would have exposed everything long ago.
Oliver stood there grinding his teeth, only able to watch the red Maserati make a beautiful drift before disappearing.
He looked down at his hands. For some reason, since returning this time, he always had a feeling of loss, as if something important had quietly slipped through his fingers.
He tried to reach out and grasp it, but caught only wind.
Gavin had given them the auction's time, location, and invitation.
The next evening at seven o'clock.
Sophia arrived at the venue on time. She wore a black evening gown today, form-fitting and perfectly outlining her graceful figure.
She glanced at Oliver standing nearby, but didn't wait for him, directly submitting her invitation and entering.
This auction was held under the banner of charity, with all proceeds going to children in impoverished mountain areas.
Sophia and Oliver were seated in the middle rows—not the best viewing seats.
Sophia discreetly surveyed the entire venue.
There had been rumors that the heir of the Windsor family would attend today. Even though it was just an unremarkable auction, it had gathered most of the elite families from their circle.
Groups of people stood together discussing whether the heir of the Windsor family would actually come.
Oliver walked up to Sophia with a cold expression. "Why didn't you wait for me just now? You knew there were so many people here—do you have to see news about our marital discord spread before you're satisfied?"
Sophia glanced at him. "Do you think it would matter if we acted lovingly now? Your deeds have already spread throughout the circle."
Oliver was speechless again.
In two years apart, Sophia had become increasingly sharp-tongued, every sentence aimed right at his weak spots.
"I won't argue with you." He took a deep breath. "I heard there's a century-old antique being auctioned today. Grandfather's birthday is coming up; I want to buy that antique as a gift for him."
Sophia nodded casually, ignoring him as she sat down in her seat.
Today's main focus was still on the heir of the Windsor family.
Sophia scanned the crowd several times but didn't see the important figure.
Her seat was by the aisle. The venue was completely full, yet the seat to her right remained empty.
There wasn't even a nameplate on the chair back.
Soon, the auction officially began.
The host took the stage with excitement, enthusiastically introducing the auction process before moving into the formal bidding.
Sophia had no interest in these auction items.
Items were auctioned off one by one until it was time for the piece Oliver had his eye on.
"Starting bid: two million dollars!"
"Three million dollars!"
"Four million dollars!"
"Ten million dollars!"
The price skyrocketed instantly.
Oliver gripped his bidding paddle and spoke through gritted teeth. "Fifteen million dollars!"
This was all the money he currently had. He had to use this opportunity to regain Gavin's favor.
Though Sophia didn't understand antiques, Oliver's bid had far exceeded this piece's actual value.
Quite a few people had recognized him.
At this price point, it was already a loss, and others who had been interested put down their paddles.
Oliver felt somewhat smug. "I've driven the price this high; let's see who dares compete with me?"
The auctioneer asked from the stage.
"Are there any higher bids?"
"If not, this treasure will go to bidder number 23!"
The auctioneer raised the gavel, about to finalize the sale, when his expression suddenly changed as he looked toward the front in surprise.
"Bidder number 1 has offered thirty million dollars!"
"What? Thirty million dollars!"
"For such an antique, someone actually bid thirty million! Is the bidder clueless about its value or just doesn't care about money!"
"Could this be the handiwork of the heir of the Windsor family?"
Sophia suddenly thought of something and turned around. From the entrance, a man in a black suit was slowly walking in.
Her pupils dilated slightly, her expression frozen.
'It's him?'