The Unwavering Heart That Broke novel Chapter 128

Nathalie pressed her lips together, holding in all the frustration building inside her. Another roadblock to filing for divorce. Just how was she supposed to leave him? Her head pounded with anxiety.

The silence in her apartment felt heavy.

Later that afternoon, her phone buzzed. Damaris was calling.

“The auction’s tonight, Nathalie. Are you ready?”

“Yeah, I’m all set,” Nathalie answered.

“I’ll swing by and pick you up,” Damaris offered.

“Sounds good.”

Nathalie left work early and headed straight for the auction hall. The place was huge, already buzzing with guests, chandeliers reflecting off glossy marble floors. The auctioneer stood at the front, and everyone clutched a glossy booklet showcasing the night’s treasures.

Damaris flipped through her catalog, stopping at a photo of sapphire earrings. “Starting bid’s three million, and the price goes up by half a million each time. Unless someone goes crazy, they should sell for less than eight million.”

Nathalie kept her gaze fixed on the photo. Her determination was written all over her face.

Suddenly, a ripple of noise swept through the room. Guests turned to look toward the entrance—and there he was. Lance. He stood in the doorway, wearing a tailored black suit that couldn’t have fit him better. He looked as smooth as always, with that quiet confidence he wore like cologne.

And on his arm was Felice, draped in a black evening gown, her smile warm and graceful, never a hair out of place.

Damaris muttered under her breath, not bothering to lower her voice. “Those two are unbelievable.”

Nathalie tightened her grip on the booklet, a sense of dread washing over her.

Why was he here? And why bring Felice?

Damaris kept going, sounding close to losing it. “Do they have to show up everywhere? It’s like they’re haunting us.”

Nathalie reached for Damaris’s hand, her own voice tight. “What are they doing here?”

Damaris just rolled her eyes. “Who knows. Maybe he wants the whole world to know about him and that homewrecker.”

Nathalie didn’t respond. She just stared at Lance, her mind racing.

Maybe he felt her gaze. He glanced her way, but his eyes met hers for only a moment before he looked away.

“Number 23, four million.”

“Number 30, four and a half million.”

“Number 38, five million.”

“Number 30, five and a half million.”

With every new bid, Nathalie was right there, raising the stakes, refusing to let go. She would win these earrings, no matter what.

The price hit six million, and the competition thinned out. Most people gave up. Nathalie lifted her paddle again.

“Number 30, six and a half million. Six and a half, going once, going twice…”

Suddenly, a new voice made the auctioneer’s eyes widen with excitement.

“Number 50, ten million!”

The crowd erupted in whispers.