Awakened Housewife Ignore Betrayer's Begs (Scarlett) novel Chapter 89

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A wave of profound relief washed over Scarlett as she witnessed Damian finally lower his paddle.

Finished

But no sooner had she exhaled than Damian, standing beside her, suddenly got to his feet. Without a moment’s hesitation, he walked straight toward the auction’s proxy desk.

Panic surged in Scarlett’s chest as she watched Damian head for the proxy desk.

Acting on pure instinct, she called out, her voice sharp with anxiety, “Damian! What are you doing? Get down from there immediately!”

Both Vincent and Sabrina heard Scarlett’s distressed shout.

Damian clearly heard it too, but he didn’t pause. When he reached the proxy desk, he leaned over to whisper something to his dedicated auction assistant, while handing over his buyer verification card.

In the next second, the auction assistant held up the exclusive bid paddle representing Damian and announced loudly to the auctioneer. “On behalf of Mr. Langley, bid of 110 million dollars.”

Everyone present knew that Damian’s jump bid was no accident. Under the rules, as long as Vincent continued to bid, Damian could have his assistant follow up at any time. The initiative in this bidding war had already fallen firmly into his hands.

Down in the audience, Scarlett’s stomach twisted into knots of dread.

Vincent was a formidable, unyielding force, and this item was something Sabrina clearly desired. Damian’s dramatic gesture was a blatant, public provocation aimed directly at Vincent-a declaration of an all-out financial war.

If this continued, both men would be driven into a fiscal stalemate, a classic lose-lose scenario.

The entire spectacle felt utterly pointless, yet Scarlett knew she was powerless to dissuade Damian. She could only watch the scene unfold with a growing sense of helplessness.

By throwing down this gauntlet, Damian had effectively shifted the burden of the next move onto Vincent, and the crowd buzzed with frenzied speculation.

Some argued that Vincent, with his vast wealth, would undoubtedly counter, refusing to be publicly bested.

Others speculated that doing so would be financial suicide, and that the pragmatic businessman in him would force a retreat.

Sabrina remained seated, her posture composed, but her clasped hands hidden in her lap were slick with cold sweat.

If Vincent failed to raise his bid, it would mean that she had lost this unspoken contest to Scarlett.

The battle between the two men was, in essence, also a proxy war between the two women.

Every eye in the hall was now fixed on Vincent, awaiting his response.

The auctioneer began the final countdown on stage. When the last call echoed through the silent hall,

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Vincent’s paddle remained firmly on his lap. He did not bid again.

It was over. A wave of sighs and murmurs rippled through the crowd.

Finished

While Vincent’s withdrawal was the financially prudent decision, there were still hushed whispers that a man of his stature and fortune should not have conceded so readily.

Vincent ignored the surrounding chatter. He sat with an air of unruffled calm, his gaze steady and fixed on Damian, who still stood triumphant on the stage.

Sabrina felt a bitter lump form in her throat at Vincent’s surrender.

She was deeply displeased with the outcome, but she maintained her silence.

If one must lose, it was best to do so with grace.

Besides, she couldn’t logically fault Vincent’s decision.

Scarlett, who had technically emerged victorious in this covert,feminine duel, felt no sense of triumph. Instead, a deeper unease and anxiety settled over her.

Sitting rigidly in her seat, she felt a cold shiver trace a path down her spine.

After the bracelet was officially secured, Damian descended from the stage and resumed his seat beside Sabrina. Noticing Scarlett’s distant, preoccupied expression, he leaned toward her with a playful smile. “Why the long face? Not pleased with the outcome?”

Scarlett didn’t answer his question directly. She turned her head to look at him instead. “Can we leave soon?” she asked, her voice low.

Damian reached out and gently twirled a loose strand of her hair around his finger, his touch intimate. He leaned in closer, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. “What’s the rush, darling? Eager to get to the hotel with me?”

Scarlett’s cheeks flushed a deep, furious crimson. She shot him a glare filled with reproach, saying nothing, but her eyes spoke volumes of her anger and frustration.

Just then, the host announced that the auction would resume with the next lot.

Damian understood the true source of her irritation, but he made no move to address it.

With the auction still in progress, Scarlett couldn’t simply get up and leave. She had no choice but to remain seated, fuming silently.

Seeing her obvious displeasure, Damian’s own interest in the remaining auction items visibly waned.

The remainder of the event passed in a blur. Once it concluded, the event staff gracefully guided the VIP guests to an adjacent, lavishly appointed reception hall.,

Inside, long tables were laden with fine wines, champagne, fresh fruit, delicate pastries, and an array

of

gourmet snacks…

Damian escorted Scarlett inside. The moment they entered, a group of businessmen immediately

surrounded them.

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“Mr. Langley! Aren’t you going to introduce us to this stunning vision beside you? Worried we might try to steal her away?” one portly man joked.

“Come now, it’s not that. He’s just being his usual secretive self,” another chimed in with a laugh.

“Precisely! Mr. Langley always plays his cards so close to his chest.”

The men who approached all had business dealings with Damian, so this level of familiar ribbing was commonplace.

But on this occasion, Damian seemed to take their comments to heart. He gently pulled Scarlett from where she stood slightly behind him and drew her to his side, introducing her to the group with uncharacteristic openness. “This one is different,” he stated, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “She’s the one I genuinely care about.”

The group erupted in knowing laughter, nodding and winking as if they understood perfectly.

Damian’s reputation as a notorious playboy preceded him. Any woman seen on his arm was temporarily labeled as “the one”.

These men had heard this line from him countless times before and attributed no particular significance to it.

Scarlett, knowing Damian’s nature all too well, certainly didn’t take his declaration seriously.

Sensing their skepticism, Damian felt compelled to reiterate, his tone more earnest this time. “I’m being serious. She is the one.”

The men laughed again, humoring him with placating nods. “Of course, of course! She’s the one.”

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Awakened Housewife: Ignore Betrayer’s Begs