The air froze for two seconds as Adrian Grant sat back in his seat without expression.
Eleanor Winslow waved over a waiter, "Please have the proxy bidder communicate with the client. This emerald is a relic from my mother. Ask if they would be willing to let me have it, and I’ll consider it a favor owed."
The waiter nodded and went to handle the communication.
In less than a minute, the proxy bidder stopped raising the price.
The auctioneer hammered, "Congratulations, Mr. Grant!"
Adrian Grant’s account paid the balance, and shortly afterward, the strand of emerald jade beads was handed to Eleanor Winslow by the waiter.
Eleanor Winslow caressed the jade beads with noticeable care but did not take them.
She looked at Adrian Grant with a slightly sarcastic smile, "Originally, this should have been compensation from Mia Winslow and her mother to me. Young Master Grant truly enjoys cleaning up after others."
Mia Winslow, who was mentioned again, wore an unpleasant expression.
"Not planning to take it?" Adrian Grant reminded her, "This is your mother’s relic, after all."
Does she disdain spending his money this much?
Jude Winslow suddenly grabbed the jade beads to break the deadlock, "Yes, yes, yes! I’ll hold it for Eleanor. Thanks, brother-in-law!"
Eleanor Winslow’s face turned slightly cold.
Blake Lockwood came today, showing some interest in a large emerald known as a "pigeon egg". For more chapters visit novel⁂fire.net
The emerald wasn’t well-favored, and its price was high. Soon, only Blake Lockwood and a competitor in the front row remained. The man in the suit appeared to have especially broad shoulders and neat short hair, judging by the back of his head, he was likely handsome.
"Trevor, I just love this color, will you buy it for me?"
Blake Lockwood vaguely heard a sticky sweet female voice from the front row. A young woman with a princess braid was sitting beside the competitor, clutching his arm and acting coy.
Blake Lockwood frowned, feeling the man seemed familiar.
Before she could recall who it was, the annoying competitor raised his bid again, adding five million at once.
Blake Lockwood unhappily lowered her paddle.
"What’s wrong? I’ll bid for it and gift it to you!" Eleanor Winslow noticed Blake Lockwood’s altered mood.
"Don’t." Blake Lockwood held Eleanor Winslow’s hand. "We can spend millions for happiness, but I don’t want to compete with a woman like that over a gemstone."
The auction concluded.
The handsome back-of-the-head competitor stood up, turning around to meet Blake Lockwood’s gaze.
The man had sharp eyebrows, starry eyes, a high nose bridge, carrying a mix of handsome beauty and wildness, like a defiant, arrogant wolf.
It was Trevor Hawthorne, not seen for several months!
Beside Trevor Hawthorne stood a delicate young woman, similar in age to Blake Lockwood, happily chatting away with him.
Trevor Hawthorne was momentarily stunned, clearly not expecting to meet Blake Lockwood here.
"Trevor, who is she?" The delicate young woman clutched Trevor Hawthorne’s arm in a territorial gesture, eyeing Blake Lockwood with vigilance.
Blake Lockwood glanced at the woman’s actions, crossing her arms, with a half-smile, "I think the color of that emerald suits me well, Trevor Hawthorne, what do you think?"
"Mrs. Hawthorne, long time no see." Trevor Hawthorne spoke, removing the arm from her grasp.
Pearl Morgan met the legitimate wife without a hint of guilt, sized up Blake Lockwood, then scoffed disdainfully, "I know you, Blake Lockwood! If it weren’t for your mother shamelessly forcing you to marry Trevor—"
The word "bro" hadn’t yet escaped her lips when "smack!" With a crisp sound, a slap landed!
Nobody expected Eleanor Winslow, who had been silent, to stride forward and slap Pearl Morgan.
"Miss Morgan, haven’t your elders taught you manners?" Eleanor Winslow said with a cold face.
In less than a year, Blake Lockwood lost her beloved parents, a pain she couldn’t mention, yet Pearl Morgan spoke viciously, and Eleanor hit her without holding back.
Pearl Morgan was stunned by the hit, covering her face with tears streaming down, pointing at Eleanor Winslow, her lips trembling, "E-Eleanor! Dare to hit me! How dare you hit me!"
Jude Winslow touched his handsome face, feeling that though his second sister was fierce and hard to deal with, she treated him quite well.
At least she never slapped him!
Mia Winslow saw this and quickly walked over, placing Eleanor Winslow behind her, apologizing to Pearl Morgan, "Miss Morgan, Eleanor has been unruly and spoiled since a child, but she didn’t mean it. Her hitting you is surely wrong, I apologize on her behalf! We’re all in the same circle, causing a fuss isn’t good, right?"
Much like a responsible elder sister protecting her sibling, yet in reality, smearing Eleanor Winslow!
"Sister, if I were you, appearing in fake clothing bringing disgrace and shame, I would go home to hide the clothes rather than openly defame me here!"
Eleanor Winslow’s words reminded everyone again of Mia Winslow’s outfit.
Mia Winslow’s face instantly turned uglier, giving Eleanor Winslow a dark glare before pretending she had other matters to attend to, then hurriedly said goodbye to those around her and left.
Pearl Morgan abruptly realized this, raising her hand intending to return the slap to Eleanor Winslow!
Blake Lockwood raised her hand faster than Eleanor Winslow, grasping Pearl Morgan’s wrist, "Miss Morgan, are you keen on being hit tonight?"
Almost simultaneously, a gentle but cold male voice reprimanded, "Pearl!"
Adrian Grant had unknowingly walked over, with a calm gaze that exuded an inexplicable intimidation.
Pearl Morgan’s tears poured down like rain, sobbing somewhat hiccupingly, pointing at Eleanor Winslow and complaining to Adrian Grant, "Uncle! It’s her who hit me! Eleanor Winslow hit me first!"
Adrian Grant barely reacted much, calmly questioning, "Are you trying to hit back?"
That tone, that demeanor, clearly seemed to ask: are you daydreaming?
Eleanor Winslow looked at Adrian Grant strangely: Was he actually standing up for her?
"Trevor..." Pearl Morgan looked pitifully at Trevor Hawthorne.
"Pearl, it’s not my wife who did it." Trevor Hawthorne gestured helplessly.
Pearl Morgan collapsed, crying uncontrollably on the spot.
Blake Lockwood leaned against the sofa, listlessly watching Pearl Morgan cry in breakdown.
Once the organizers guided other guests to the party hall, only those involved remained here.
Blake Lockwood asked Trevor Hawthorne, "When did you return?"
Trevor Hawthorne picked up a cigar intending to smoke but remembered the ladies present, then put it down, fiddling with it between his fingers.
Blake Lockwood gave a faint but not amused laugh, "Young Master Hawthorne, could you notify me ahead of time when you have such schedules? I’d appreciate your cooperation very much!"
Trevor Hawthorne glanced sideways at her, "Blake Lockwood, I texted you."
"?" Blake Lockwood frowned, "Impossible! I didn’t receive it!"
Trevor Hawthorne suddenly reached out, pinching her chin, drawing in half flirtatious, half dangerously close, "Mrs. Hawthorne, have you blocked me?"